“My dad did. Absolutely.”
Losing her mom at eighteen had to have been infinitely hard as well. Barely a legal adult. He hated to think about losing his dad.
Sophie took a slow, audible inhale and closed her eyes before continuing. “Some of my earliest memories are of waiting rooms in psychologists’ offices. For my brother. We spent hours in them. Sometimes multiple times a week. My mom would pack up my coloring books and a box of crayons, a pile of picture books, and my favorite stuffed animals to keep me occupied.”
“What’s wrong with your brother?”
She scoffed. “Question of the hour. Oppositional Defiance Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, several other possibilities were thrown around. My mom was determined to find a way to help him. Determined or … obsessed.”
“But not your dad?”
She shook her head. “That’s how their marriage ended. He insisted Robert was just a boy with a lot of pent-up energy, too much time on his hands, too much boredom. My mom knew it was more.”
“Based on your brother’s recent activities, it sounds like your mom was right.”
“My parents fought all the time. It was horrible. And then Robert was always getting in trouble. For as long as I remember. He got suspended, expelled, changed schools, started new treatments until the new doc would say they’d done as much as they could, usually because of lack of cooperation on Robert’s part. Chasing answers was all my mom did until my dad left.”
“What’d she do then?”
“She had to go to work. She held down two jobs to try to pay for all the therapy, which my dad refused to help with.”
“Dedicated.”
Sophie pursed her lips together. “It ruled her life, really, the pursuit of answers for Robert. Ruled our lives.”
A surge of protectiveness engulfed him, like nothing he’d ever felt before. How could these people be so blind to a little girl’s needs? “How much younger than Robert are you?”
“Four years.”
“You were a little girl, and your mom spent all her time on a crusade for your brother, and your dad … he left. Is that right?”
She smiled sadly. “Pretty much.”
“Did you and your brother ever get along?”
“He hated me. I was scared of him.”
Nate understood, finally, how she’d had to turn inward. Why she kept everything to herself.
No one had ever been there for her.
“That’s all pretty messed up,” he said. “They are messed up, Sophie. Not you. You are … unbelievably normal, considering what you’ve lived through.”
She laughed sadly. “You said yourself normal doesn’t exist.”
He slipped his arm around her and pulled her to his side. “Let’s upgrade it from normal to amazing.”
Her expression became somber. “No. I’m not. I’m… It wasn’t my dad’s apology that hit me hardest today,” she said. “It was something he pointed out.”
“Such as?”
“He compared me to him.” She said it as if it was the absolute worst insult a person could give, and he realized, in her eyes, it probably was. “He pointed out how I’m lonely and unhappy just like him.” Her voice cracked. She took a moment to recover before going on. “I don’t want to be like him. But he’s right. I spend holidays by myself. Friday nights by myself. Almost every waking hour I’m not working by myself. And while my job makes me happy, my life doesn’t. Because … I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
Big pause.
“My brother hated me from the moment I was born just because I existed. I was never enough to drag my mom’s attention away from my brother’s problems. Wasn’t enough to keep my dad from leaving…” She inhaled shakily and put her hands over her face. “So how … how could I ever be enough for someone else to c-care about?”
