Cayden is finally unburdening his soul, and each revelation is baring his beauty, exposing why I fell under his spell from the very first moment we met. It’s nice to know I wasn’t going crazy. That this place, the tree, the red ribbon, it all played a part in why I am here. But when Cayden sighs, I know our story is far from ending in a happily ever after.
“You told me your name, and I told you mine. You asked why I wasn’t wearing the clothes you had stolen from your brother, and I explained my story. I told you everything, and you listened. And when I finished, then you told me yours.
“This happened for the next two months, and that summer was the best summer of my life. I had made a friend, but the secrecy surrounding our friendship just made it even more exciting. We’d speak for hours, sitting under that tree or me pushing you on that swing. However, one night, when I asked why you wore that outfit, your carefree demeanor changed. Your sadness was suddenly mine too. You shared with me that even though you lived in what appeared to be a castle, with everything you could ever want, you were happiest here. You wore that outfit in hopes that one day, your Prince Charming would wake you from your death-like sleep.
“No guessing who the villain is in your story or why you chose Snow White as the character you connected most with.”
“Stella,” I gasp, this tale woven from sheer woe. “The evil stepmom. Although, in my case, we are flesh and blood.”
He frowns, saddened that I’ve come to learn a piece of my past he wished I never remembered. “You were looking for what every kid wants. To belong. It didn’t matter that you had money or that your surname was renowned. You were lonely. So fucking lonely that you created a world in your head to escape that solitude. That was the moment I vowed to do anything to protect you. I didn’t care what my father did; I promised you’d never be lonely again.
“But that promise was made by a naïve, stupid kid. Life doesn’t work that way because once summer gives way to fall, the sunshine goes into hiding, just as you did. Your house, it was your vacation home, so it made sense that when vacation was over, so was your stay. We didn’t even get to say goodbye.
“As the months turned cold, the memory of your smile, your laugh, was the only thing that saw me through. I had saved money from all the things I sold, but that soon disappeared, and I was back to stealing to survive.”
“What about your dad?”
“What about him?” he replies quickly, his anger almost burning.
“He just left you and Lacey to fend for yourselves?”
Cayden’s mood soon turns from nostalgic to murderous in seconds. “There is one thing you need to know about my dad. All he ever cared about was himself. We were nothing but a burden. He only stuck around for the child support, which he spent on his own dirty habits. He was a drunk. And a mean one at that. So it was better when he was gone.”
“The screams, the distinct sounds of someone being hit, the muted sniffles, I know I’ve heard them before…I just don’t know who they belong to.”
Lacey once told me she remembered violence was rampant in her home. She just couldn’t remember who the screams belonged to. I now know they were Cayden’s pleas for help. I’ve never really hated anyone until now.
Cayden can sense my thoughts, and he violently shakes his head. “Don’t. I don’t want your pity. That’s not why I’m telling you this.” I understand completely and am quick to rein in my sympathy.
“Times were tough, but whose childhood isn’t? I did what I had to, to survive. And soon, the memory of knowing you wasn’t as clear as it once was. That is, until the next summer. Late one night, I was about to cross over the lake, and it appeared our worlds weren’t so different, after all.
“I was a kid, dealing weed to kids with money to burn. They were happy to buy my drugs but wouldn’t be caught dead talking to me in any other circumstance. But that was fine. I wasn’t there to socialize. I was there to survive. I didn’t want to believe the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, but I knew what road I was headed down. I was angry all the time, and the only person who made me feel like I was worth something was gone.
“But when I saw that red ribbon tied to that swing, I just…everything changed. You had done the one thing no one in my entire life had. You came back for me. I was someone worth knowing.” His chest rises and falls, and it’s clear to see the effect this memory, that I, have on him.
“I know I should have stayed away, but I couldn’t. And when I saw you, standing by that swing, hands filled with lemons, I knew I’d never let you go again. I knew what we had could only ever be a summer fling, but I didn’t care. I would take anything you wanted to give.
“So that’s what happened. For the next eight years, every summer, I waited, waited for you to come back to me. And every summer, you did. I knew our future could never amount to anything. A poor boy like me and a rich girl like you. But your life wasn’t hearts and roses. You lacked the love you always craved, and that red ribbon was our SOS. I knew you were in trouble when it was there. Your mom knew you were sneaking off in the boat, and she grounded you countless times, but that didn’t stop you. But that’s all we ever had. Stolen kisses and covert touches. That’s all I could ever offer you.”
Cayden is incredibly still, divulging our secret in a rushed breath. I know there is so much more to our story, but our history is going to take a lot longer than a night to detail everything we experienced. He is giving me the essentials, so I understand just how important our love really was.
“What happened when I was seventeen? What changed?” Cayden once told me that he broke my heart, and for the next ten years, I broke his. Doing the math, something momentous happened when I was seventeen.
Cayden sighs, revealing from here on forward, our story turns. “You grew up and changed. We both did. We both couldn’t live in denial anymore. It hurt. Too much. You told me you were going to college to study marketing even though your true passion was art. You were—you are an amazing artist. You drew me that.” He gestures with his chin to the picture above his bed. “You told me it was a self-portrait of how you saw yourself when in my arms.”
Turning slowly to look over my shoulder, I take in the beautiful artwork, unable to believe my hand drew something this perfect. I instantly felt a connection to this piece, and now I know why.
This picture is worth a thousand words. The vulnerability and the comfort of being stripped bare this way reveal that I felt then what I clearly still do now. “I loved you,” I whisper, and it’s not a question but rather a statement as I don’t need confirmation. The sketch is all the answer I need.
“Yes, you did.”
His saddened response has me turning back around to face him. “What happened?”
He’s trying his hardest to stay strong. But when he walks to where I sit and drops to his knees before me, all the layers are peeled away. “I pushed you away. What could I offer you? I thought I was doing the right thing. You spoke of staying here once you graduated from school, but I couldn’t let you waste your life. You didn’t belong here. You deserved better. So I made sure you stayed away.”
I swallow down my fear.