Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Yep. Anything can happen with a few wishes and a whole lotta hope.
He places a kiss on my forehead and walks us out of the early morning, chilled water. When we get back up to the house, he sets me down on my feet.
“Grab what you need. We’ll spend the day at the beach.”
* * *
We’re going to be heading back to the city soon. Neither of us is ready for this fairy tale to end. Sure, we can come back now any time we want, but in this house, it feels like we are cocooned in a bubble, living in a fantasy world.
I’m not ready for the real world and the problems that arise in it to invade my happiness.
Together, we’re having a picnic on the sand, watching the waves, and enjoying the sun.
He looks at me with such earnest interest. Sometimes, I don’t know how to handle that look. No one has ever wanted to know me this much.
“You went through a lot with your parents. Tell me about it.”
In almost a mumble, I say, “Why do I feel like I can tell you this and you won’t judge me for it?”
“We all have our backstories.”
“Yes. Well, mine is one giant lie. A truth even I don’t like talking about.”
He looks taken aback. How can it be possible for this man to randomly fall out of the sky and be perfect for me? Someone who may understand the hidden lives we lead.
“Go ahead. No judging,” he says.
With a slight groan—because I don’t tell this to everyone I meet, but this is Cain, my Cain—the words start to pour.
“The night of graduation, my cousin and his mom were at our house for a small after-party. Of course, my parents were fighting again, and I told my cousin how embarrassed I was by them. I said I wished I weren’t related to my father as he was getting drunk and belligerent, which was my father’s normal state when he wasn’t working.
“My aunt heard us talking and piped up with a comment of how I didn’t deserve her brother, who had sacrificed for me his whole life being married to my bitch of a mother. I had no clue what she was going on about, and when I asked, she said that now the truth could come out. I wasn’t Glenn’s kid.
“Irene was like a faucet that couldn’t be turned off. She told me all about how my mother had cheated on my father early in their marriage and got pregnant with me. She wanted to get a divorce and put me up for adoption, but Glenn didn’t think that was the right thing to do. He was in love with the idea of a family and told her she could quit her job, and he would take care of us both. My mother manipulated him, and over the years, he just got more upset and turned to drinking. They both were a nightmare to be around, even on their good days. But it doesn’t matter because even the good days were all a deception. I packed up my stuff that night and walked out the door. I haven’t talked to the family again since.”
I finally look back up at Cain. I see my unshed tears reflected in his eyes.
Like he knows what it feels like when deep family lies are unearthed.
The destruction they cause.
“Thank you for telling me your story,” he says, giving a squeeze to my hand that I didn’t realize he was holding.
His smile has me sitting up straight. He gives me a strength I didn’t know I needed.
Changing the subject from me, I look around the beach. “It’s so beautiful. I remember always wanting to go to the ocean when I was a kid. Did you come to Cape May a lot as a kid?”
“Nah. Just a few times.”
“Is it close to where you grew up? Where are you from again?”
“Enough talking. It’s almost time to leave, and there’s one more thing I want to do before we go.” Cain picks me up, and together, we run into the water.
We splash around and have fun, but then something hits me as I look off into the distance and then back at the abandoned picnic blanket.
He did it again.
Deflected. His past left to the side to never be discussed.
He never wants to talk about anything from his past. I get it. I really do.
I hate to talk about my parents, who never cared for me either. Hell, the moment I graduated high school, after they told me what a failure I would be, I vowed to never speak of them again, so I can understand not wanting to talk about it, but if we are really going to try to make a go of this, I need to break down his walls.