Second Chance Vow

“Your mom’s bipolar.”

We locked eyes again.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg. My mother is a lot of things, but being a mother is not one of them. At first, I believed her. Even when I knew better, I still believed her. The woman who ripped my life to shreds day after day was the same one I prayed would tuck me into bed at night.”

My chest heaved, and my heart broke while Christian’s stare never faltered. He sat there patiently listening to every word out of my mouth, never once interrupting me. I instantly looked down when I felt him gently place his hand on top of mine in the grass before he laced them together. It was such a soothing, reassuring gesture. Feeling like we were one.

To have a real connection with someone, with a boy who didn’t even know me, but wanted to know everything was an emotion I’d never experienced before.

I wanted to tell him everything, especially the effect he was having on me, and for a second, I’d thought about it. Except, I realized I didn’t have to, he knew—he was feeling our deep connection too.

Making it a little easier to continue, “I was by myself a lot. I’m still by myself a lot. More than I should be at my age. My aunt works at the hospital all the time, and she’s barely around. All I have is Jax. I think I’d be lost without him. Sometimes I think it’s easier for my aunt to work and not have to look at me. I remind her of my mother, her sister, and the shit she put her through was similar to what she did to me. She didn’t know she had a daughter. My mom ran away from home when she was fifteen and never looked back. You know what they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Her mother was the same way. I come from a long line of crazy women.” I laughed, even though I hated that fact.

“I don’t want to be like them. I’ll never be like them. I refuse. The only thing my mom has ever done for me was to have her court-appointed lawyer find her sister. He did, and she came to my rescue before I was awarded to the state.”

My eyes were fixated on his hand that never left mine. In the dark, his rough, calloused fingers were so comforting resting over mine, and I wanted to turn my hand over to feel him.

When he reached over and lightly grazed the side of my cheek with his other hand, his fingers moved to tug on the ends of my hair that framed my face. His knuckles grazed my cheek, and I nervously licked my lips, peeking up at him through my lashes.

“It wasn’t you, Kinley. She’s just sick.”

“I know. She self-medicated with whatever she could get her hands on—it was mostly booze. I slept on couch cushions for most of my life, and we were in and out of shelters. Sometimes we lived out of her piece of shit car. As a little girl, she made a game out of it. How many people could we get money from standing at an intersection? The older I got, the more I didn’t want to play her games. I haven’t spoken to or seen her in three and a half years. She wants to see me, and a little part of me wants to see her too.” My face frowned. “That’s normal, right? Or am I just really stupid?”

“It’s not stupid.” Slowly, he kissed away my tears until his lips were near my mouth.

It was the craziest sensation in all my life. He kissed me again. Except for this time…

It felt like we were breathing each other in.

Chapter 6

Christian

Now

I walked into the house that used to be our home with boxes in my hands. Today was the day I was officially moving out. Everything was ironed out with our lawyers. I was giving Kinley the house and her car. We were splitting our savings, and selling our two vacation homes—one was in St. Thomas, and the other was in Colorado. Since we didn’t have any kids, our settlement was simple.

In three days, we’d sign our divorce papers, and then our attorneys would schedule our day in court for the judge to sign off and make it official.

We were no longer married.

Our last therapy session was two days ago, and nothing was sorted or fixed between us, not one damn thing. We hadn’t spoken which was by far the worst silence, when we were deliberately not wanting to speak to each other, it was worse than when we were arguing. At least then it felt as if we were fighting for something.

However, at this point, I didn’t know what to say, what to feel, fuck…