Page 141 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

“That time Cross was in the hospital after I graduated?”

“Something happened at a party,” Dante said.

Catherine shook her head. “I was dealing at some street races, and someone who felt I ripped them off tried to assault me. Cross saved the day again—I lied to cover my own ass afterwards. It was already too late then, though, because I was falling back into the same old spiral.”

“I wasn’t sixteen this time around,” Catherine said, feeling a lump starting to form in her throat. “I didn’t do the same kind of thing I did when I was sixteen. Instead, I went to the doctor, got pills to make me feel better, and abused them because numbness was easier. I was buying off a girl at school who had a connection, too, so I was also using someone else’s meds. I drank a bottle of wine a day to wash them back. I couldn’t get up in the morning without my hands shaking. Cross didn’t know until I told him.”

Antony leaned back in his chair, and rubbed at his temples. “This is a lot to take in, Catherine.”

“I know.”

“What happened after that?” Dante asked, ignoring the exchange entirely.

“He, uh, got me clean, covered my ass and lied to everyone about what was going on, and put me back up on my feet one last time. He wanted me to back off dealing with Andino because he thought it was going to be a catalyst to another round of my depression, but I didn’t want to stop. I went behind his back—I lied to him like I lied to everybody else.”

“And so he made you leave,” Dante assumed.

“Yeah, he did, and it was the best thing he could have ever done for me. The thing is, Daddy … you both love me, and you both want to make me happy, and keep me safe. In different ways, sure, but the end goal is the same. Don’t you realize that? You and Cross, you’re working toward the same thing, but you both think you can do it better. Now it’s not me sabotaging it, anymore, so please don’t be the one to interfere this time, either.”

“I do want you to be happy,” Dante said.

“And I am,” Catherine insisted. “Happier than I was years ago. In a different way than I was when I was thirteen, and fell in love with him the first time. I have got this figured out, Daddy. I am okay, and I want to keep being okay. I need to be where I am happy, and so I am going to go there. He has always made me happy, as long as I was happy with myself. For a long time, I didn’t even realize I was unhappy with me.”

“I see.”

“He always saved me. I always lied. I didn’t mind learning how to save myself this time around, and I need you to let me figure out the other half, too. No more lying. No more pretending. I’m going to be happy, and that means doing whatever it takes to get there, and stay that way. I have not been very good to Cross, not like he has been for me, but he still wants me. He has always wanted me. I’d like to be what he deserves this time around. I want to make him happy; I want to be happy.”

Dante nodded, and closed the distance between them so that he could stand in front of her. “Cross makes you happy.”

“Very happy.”

“I’m worried there will be no one to catch you if you fall, Catherine. I might not be able to catch you.”

“I learned how to catch myself because he didn’t give me a choice. Let me do that now.”

“All right, so I will step back and let you do that,” Dante murmured.

Catherine stood stone-still as her father pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. Her mother got up from the leather couch, crossed the small space between them, and wiped one tear that had escaped from Catherine’s eye with a soft smile.

“No matter what, we’re proud of you,” Catrina said. “We love you.”

Catherine took her mother’s kiss. “Yeah, I know that now, Ma.”

“We should have said it louder.”

“And more often,” Dante agreed.

“You did,” Catherine assured, “but I still had to figure it out on my own time.”

“Well done. I think some time to digest all of this is needed, though.” Antony pushed his form up from the chair, and clapped his son on the shoulder. “Now, someone needs to take me home. Cecelia doesn’t like being in that mansion all alone at night.”

Dante chuckled. “Yes, Papa.”

“I’ll take him,” Catherine offered, shrugging. “I’m going that way, anyway. It’s not that far out of the way.”

“To Manhattan?” Dante asked.

“To Cross.”