It’s a family photo of my mother, father, brother, and me.
I don’t even remember the picture being taken. I can’t have been older than five. My gaze immediately flicks to my mother and the sad smile on her face. Anyone would look at it and think she was happy, but I knew this expression well. To me, she was never good at hiding her emotions, and I could always read her like a book.
Her eyes are hollow as if her soul has long been taken from her, and the curve of her lips is so forced that I wouldn’t be surprised if my father had said something to her moments before.
Ryker’s hand is clutching her shoulder, and from the looks of it, it’s not an affectionate gesture; it’s tight and pinched, and seems more likely to be possession and control than anything else.
I run my thumb over her face delicately, brushing off the speckles of dust. My heart lurches in my chest at how badly I wish to hold her one last time.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, Mum,” I murmur through clenched teeth.
It’s strange to me that Ryker still has this, considering he was never a family man. I know it belonged to my mother, but why would he keep it?
I lower the frame back into the box as my fingers brush a stained envelope. I glance over my shoulder quickly to check that Ryker isn’t lurking. I shouldn’t be digging around my father’s belongings, but right now, I couldn’t care less.
I pull back the envelope to find my name written on the front in my mother’s handwriting. I waste no time in taking it out and opening it up to find a handwritten letter inside. I’ve never seen it before, and it makes my eyes burn knowing it’s been kept from me.
My head lowers at the sight of her beautiful handwriting. It’s neat and small, and has a natural swirl to some of the letters. I close my eyes and take a steady breath before I pluck up the courage to read.
My boy, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You have always been my light in such a dark place—without you, I have no idea where I’d be.
Every word is imprinted in my mind, and I try to rack my brain to remember when she wrote this for me and why. Almost like she was pre-empting her death.
“Goddess,” I grunt as I roll my fingers over my forehead.
I take a second before continuing to read.
I pray the world is kind to you. I want nothing more than for you to be loved, to experience happiness, and not live with any regrets.
There’s a sudden stabbing sensation in my chest.
This life is yours, Caleb. Take it and do everything you’ve ever wanted, and never let anyone walk over you. Do things that scare you, challenge you, make you feel alive. Live a life filled with joy and nothing less. I’ll forever be proud of you. I love you more than life itself.
My fingers tighten around the letter as I heave out a breath. The only love I’ve ever known was hers—it’s the only thing that kept me alive when I was young.
But I want more than just her love. I want to feel love in its rawest form. The kind that makes you forget everything else exists, the kind that has butterflies swarming inside your stomach, the kind that makes you have faith in the world again.
The kind I’ve never had the chance to experience, but desperately want to. My heart thumps when an image of Evan flashes in my mind. Goddess, I push him away, and I hate myself for it. But if I bring him close, I’ll hate myself even more for putting him in a compromising situation. I can’t win.
After shoving the letter back into the envelope, I contemplate putting it back, but it has my name on it, and I’m entitled to have it in my possession. I slide it into my pocket instead and dust myself off, just in time for the office door to open.
My entire body turns rigid as Ryker steps inside and flicks his eyes over me.
“You’re still here,” he states.
“Oscar said you were busy.”
“Indeed. What were you doing?”
“Nothing,” I murmur.
Ryker’s brows raise as he walks towards his desk before staring down at the box beside my feet. I say nothing as he leans down to take the picture frame between his hands.
His gaze flicks over the photo, and for a split second, I swear I see something other than hatred, almost like his eyes come alive. I know he’s taking in my mother, but he never deserved her.
My heart races as he continues to stare, and I wonder how long it’s been since he’s looked at this photo. “Snooping around my stuff, huh?”
“You still have it.”
