The Lies We Tell (The Four 1)

I spoke into the dark room, intending to apologise to her, but instead, the words I’d never spoken to anyone, other than Cass and Zayde, came out instead. “When I was fifteen, my mother killed herself.”

I heard her sharp intake of breath, but she remained silent, stroking her fingers over my skin. “Your mother had an affair with my dad. Went on for years, I think. He wasn’t exactly subtle about it, either.” My fists clenched, the memory of my parents’ constant arguments forever burned in my mind. “My mother withdrew into herself. Started seeing a doctor, got prescribed a fuckload of drugs, turned into a shell of herself. Your mother was constantly finding excuses to come over to our house, flaunting her affair in front of my mother, knowing there was nothing she could do.”

“Cade. I had no idea what she was up to. I’m so sorry.” Winter’s voice was low and sad. “Since me and my dad moved away, I’ve hardly had anything to do with her. He really loved her, you know. It’s weird—she seems to be able to get men under her spell, and they’ll pretty much do anything for her.”

“She’s a beautiful woman. And she can charm anyone,” I admitted through gritted teeth.

“Not you, though.” She wriggled further up my body and kissed my jaw.

“Never. Uh, so one evening—it was a Friday night—I got home and there was no one else around. My dad was out with Paul and Michael—Cass and Z’s dads—and West was round his mate’s house. My mum had been in bed ill all day. I went up to check on her, and she wasn’t in her room.”

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Cade, you don’t have to talk about this,” she said softly, running her hand up and down my arm.

“It’s okay.” I tightened my hold on her, staring up at the ceiling, unseeing. “I had a feeling, y’know? That kind of sick feeling you get where something’s wrong. The house was too still, too quiet. I checked her bathroom, but she wasn’t there. I thought maybe she was downstairs. Getting something to eat or whatever, since Allan wasn’t around that weekend. Something made me check the guest bathroom down the hallway, and when I tried the door, it was locked.”

I choked on the words as I rushed to get them out. “I panicked when she didn’t answer. I somehow managed to break down the door, and I found her, but I was too late. If only I’d got home sooner, I might have been able to save her. If only—”

“Caiden.” She climbed onto me, raining kisses all over my face. “I’m so sorry. I hate that you think that way. You shouldn’t. You couldn’t have known. You can’t feel responsible for what happened.”

“I do, though.”

She made a pained noise and stared down at me. “You. Are. Not. Responsible.”

I had no words.

I pulled her down so she was lying flat on top of me, her head on my chest and my arms wrapped around her, her presence soothing me. Telling her—I hadn’t meant to, but it was out there now, and it sounded cliché as fuck, but I felt like a burden had been lifted.

And whatever was going on between us, I trusted her.

I trust her?

Yeah, I did.

We lay there for a while, occupied with our own thoughts, until she lifted her head to look at me, taking a deep breath. “I need to tell you something.” Her voice was hesitant, her eyes all huge and serious. “When I met up with my mother yesterday, she told me to stay away from you. And she…fuck. I’m sorry, Cade.” Tears filled her eyes. “I didn’t know whether to say anything, and it’s been killing me. She told me that your mum took her own life. She didn’t give me any details at all, just made it as a throwaway comment, but-but…” She trailed off, the tears now running down her face freely.

I was fucking speechless. And livid. I lifted her off me and shot off the bed, crossing straight over to the bathroom and slamming the door behind me.

“Fuck!” I punched the door, then again for good measure. Sinking down onto the floor beside the bath, I dropped my head into my hands, pain radiating up my arm.

I sat there for a long time, breathing in and out deeply, trying to calm myself.

When I managed to cool off enough that I no longer had the urge to punch something, I headed back into the bedroom, The lamp had been turned back on, and my eyes went straight to Winter, huddled on the bed.

“Do you want me to leave?” Her quiet, shaky whisper cut through the silence.

I climbed onto the bed and scooted up against the headboard. “Snowflake.” I pulled her into my arms. “Why would I want you to leave?”

“You were angry with me.”

“No. I wasn’t angry with you; I was angry with her. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I didn’t tell you that I knew.”

“Hey, you only found out yesterday.” A thought occurred to me. “Is that why you were so upset on the phone to Cass?”

She nodded.