“Yeah.” My fingers stay clasped around hers. She’s like a lifeline. One I never realized I needed. Or wanted.
After settling on the bench, she turns her body until we’re able to face one another. When I remain silent, she says, “Tell me what happened.”
A burst of air escapes from my lungs as I slide the phone from my pocket. My fingers tremble as I pull up the email. It’s so much easier to show her than say the words out loud. Alyssa leans closer as we read the message together in silence.
Shock washes over her features as her widened gaze darts to mine. “When did you reach out to her?”
“The day after we found her online.” I jerk my shoulders self-consciously. “I’m not sure what I was expecting.”
That’s not altogether true. I haven’t heard from the woman in more than a decade. I figured there was no way she’d bother to reply, and I could put to rest all these uncomfortable and turbulent emotions inside me. Instead, she responded.
Alyssa’s gaze returns to the phone I’m clenching in my hand. “She wants to meet with you.”
A pit of nausea forms in my gut. I have no idea if I’m ready to come face-to-face with Candace. Quite honestly, I can’t imagine ever being prepared for that scenario. What would I say?
Hey, how are you?
How’s the fam?
Why did you throw me away like a piece of garbage and start fresh?
I wince at the last thought.
When I remain silent, she asks, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
I plow a hand through my hair and focus on the trees that dot the landscape surrounding us. The picturesque setting with all its greenery, red-brick buildings, and thick ivy that clings to the walls isn’t enough to distract me. Already leaves are falling to the ground, creating a carpet of gold and red. “I don’t know.” I hesitate before adding, “Part of me is sorry that I ever looked her up.”
Alyssa takes a moment to digest that bit of information before whispering, “You don’t have to take this any further. You can change your mind.” Her fingers tighten around mine. “You don’t owe this woman anything.”
How sad is that? The woman we’re talking about happens to be my mother. Biologically speaking, anyway.
All this has done is dredge up even more turmoil. The hurt and pain of her abandonment is like a living, breathing entity that has taken up residence inside my body. It’s yet another realization that the memories and damage she inflicted have held me captive for way too long. Candace might have walked out of my life more than sixteen years ago, but she’s still controlling it as if she were here beside me, and I’m tired of it.
Tired of her holding all that power over my life.
There has to be a way to exorcise these demons. What scares me most is that I might not be able to put the past behind me and move forward. Maybe it’s too late. Maybe these feelings are too entrenched. I never dealt with the havoc Candace wreaked inside me. Honestly, I thought if I crammed it down deep enough, I would eventually forget about it. Guess the jokes on me—that never occurred. And I’ve been paying the consequences ever since.
When I was younger, Jenna would broach the subject of counseling every so often, and I’d scoff at not only her, but the idea of crying on some random stranger’s shoulder about the bullshit in my past. I couldn’t see how my mother walking out on me when I was a kid could have long-term effects on my future or happiness.
Turns out that it has.
I have no idea if counseling could have saved me from some of the heartache I’ve inflicted on to myself by not dealing with these issues, but it sure as hell couldn’t have hurt.
“You’re right, I don’t owe her anything, but maybe I owe it to myself,” I grudgingly admit.
“Whatever you decide,” Alyssa says, leaning against my shoulder and holding me tight, “I’ll be here for you.”
Little does she realize that those words feel like a lifeline right now. In order to move forward and have a fighting chance at a relationship with Alyssa, I need to break free from my past.
And meeting with Candace is the only way to achieve that.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Colton
Why couldn’t I have left well enough alone?
I was perfectly content living my life.
All right, so maybe perfectly content is something of an overstatement, but it was all good.
I sit behind the wheel of my BMW in a parking space in front of the coffee shop somewhere in the middle of where we both live. The only person who knows I’m here is Alyssa. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Dad or Jenna. They probably would have tried to talk me out of it. Well, maybe not Jenna. I think she would have understood. But Dad?