Page 46 of I Love You, It’s Ruining My Life

“No,” Jack groaned, “The only reason Noah told me was he didn’t want me to try and pull something. He said you were happy, and you’re both tired of me ruining everything. Which… do you think I do that? Ruin everything?”

“Not intentionally,” I replied, after thinking for a few moments, “But yes. I don’t think you ever actually learned any coping mechanisms for negative emotions. So, you sabotage everyone to try and keep us from experiencing your pain. Only, you’re so spontaneous you end up causing even more issues in the process.”

“Now you sound exactly like my therapist,” Jack scoffed, “And that’s not a compliment. I’m tired of people telling me what I need to hear instead of what I want to hear.”

“Jack,” I warned, only to find myself interrupted again.

“Ew. Dad voice. Sorry, I’m working on it, I promise,” he admitted, “I’ll be on my best behavior at Christmas. If Cassidy gives her permission.”

“And how do I tell you if she does?” I asked. “Nobody knows how to get ahold of you, and it’s causing problems.”

“Oh, you can write. Or come visit,” Jack said, “Just keep me posted.”

“I will,” I promised, “I know you hate being uncomfortable, but I’m proud of you. For getting help, for working towards getting better.”

“Thanks,” he said after a long awkward moment, “Okay, I’m about to get kicked off the phone, I’ll talk to you later.” The line went dead before I could tell him goodbye, which was on brand for my brother. And I was certain Cassidy would hate it.

“Uncle Jack wants to come… here?” Cassidy asked, a layer of judgement filling her voice with a venom I’d never heard from her, “Why?”

“Because he’s family, and he’s been in the hospital since Thanksgiving,” I explained, “but I told him he needed your permission to come, and if you said no, he won’t.”

“Well, he’s mean and rude, and he’s going to ruin Christmas talking about you and Nalini and Mom,” she insisted, “So no.”

“What if he apologizes?” I asked, but Cassidy’s lips pinched together.

“You said apologies don’t always fix things,” she pointed out, which was true — and honestly I was glad the lesson had been learned when it was one I still struggled with myself, “and he can’t apologize to Mom. And I don’t want to forgive him.”

“You don’t have to forgive him,” I told her, though she was clearly suspicious of the words. “Uncle Jack is sick, and he makes a lot of bad decisions, like what happened at Thanksgiving. He’s trying to get better, and that doesn’t mean he didn’t hurt you. You’re allowed to be hurt.”

“Did you forgive him?” Cassidy asked, and I paused before realizing I had the moment he’d admitted he needed help.

“Yeah,” I replied, “And it’s not the first time I’ve had to. I tried really hard so you wouldn’t see him like that, because I know you love him a lot. Thanksgiving was not the worst thing he said to me. Remember how before Mom got sick, I didn’t talk to him at all?” Cassidy paused for a moment before slowly nodding, “A lot of that came from me being hurt from his bad decisions. Me, Uncle Jack, and Uncle Noah had a giant fight, and it’s taken me a long time to forgive both of them. And it took them a long time to forgive me. But in the end, I missed them both a lot.”

“Is Uncle Jack going to be super rude all of Christmas?” Cassidy finally asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, deciding the truth was the best option, “but I don’t think he will. He knows what he did was wrong, and he feels terrible about it. I’m not going to make you give him all the chances I have, and I know it’s not fair you have to make this big decision. But I want you to be comfortable with him here, and if you think he deserves a chance, then he can come. But if you say no, I’m saying no.”

I watched my daughter think through it, and honestly I was proud at the way she was asking questions instead of reacting. It showed how she was slowly turning into the human I’d hoped she’d be when she grew up, even if I hated how so much of her maturity had come from trauma.

“Fine, he can come,” Cassidy finally said, “but only if he promises never to do it again.”

“I think that’s very fair of you,” I said, hugging her, “and if you change your mind when he’s here, he’ll go. Deal?”

“Deal,” she said with a curt nod. There were a lot of times I wasn’t sure I was doing the whole single parenting thing right, especially when I was terrible at setting my own boundaries. And I really hoped this was the best way to handle the situation, and I hadn’t started Cassidy down a long path of turning into me. I wanted her to have the boundaries I’d always lacked, but I wanted her to be empathetic to others. And sometimes figuring out the balance was hard, but I still hoped this was a chance to figure out how to heal our family.

Chapter thirty-five

Nalini

Christmas came with a lot of baking, and for once my time in the kitchen wasn’t the result of stress. The days moved at a rapid pace, especially as we started getting ready for our guests to arrive, and with it came six types of cookies, two pies, and three pans of giant cinnamon rolls. If I wasn’t baking, Kam was trying to get ahead on cooking so he didn’t spend all of Christmas morning frantically trying to get it all done.

I was honestly surprised at how excited I was by it.

Mom hadn’t celebrated any holidays; anything that I participated in growing up had always been when others took pity on me. She’d always said they were too frivolous, but I'd accidentally figured out the truth when she let it slip my Dad loved them. The one constant in my life was that anything my father loved, I wasn’t allowed to do. She hated him when he left her to go back to his wife when she got pregnant; she hated being pressured into keeping me instead of giving me up for adoption, and I was the one punished for all the bad that happened to her with an emotional distance nobody could cross.

It was easy to watch movies and imagine what it might've been like if I had a Mom who cared, who passed on our traditions and encouraged me to have the kind of holiday magic I’d always dreamed of. Who hadn’t told me Santa wasn’t real at the ripe old age of three years old, and wanted me to have an imagination.

It was obvious Kam didn’t like my Christmas movies, but he’d started making me feel like I was in one. And it turned my insides into a gooey mess that just made me want him more.