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Gah, I had to stop driving myself crazy with all these thoughts. He obviously wasn’t going to open up to me and share a single detail about his imprisonment, so I should just stop thinking about it.
Good mantra. Not that it worked. The curiosity killed me, but at least I tried to play it off. Offering him a wave and hopefully what looked like a cheerful smile, I greeted, “Good morning,” as I swept toward the coffee machine.
I kept my back to him as I gathered my supplies. Finally, he went back to fixing his own breakfast, and I heard him pull his bread from the toaster and slather on some butter and jelly. Meanwhile, I managed to keep myself busy until my coffee was ready.
Once I had a fortifying mugful in hand, I finally turned around. He hadn’t moved to the table to sit. He leaned against the counter on the other side of the kitchen as he chewed his toast and watched me with a leery squint.
Since he didn’t sit, I didn’t feel as if I could either, so I leaned against my counter as well, and took a big gulp. My steamy brew didn’t fill me with the courage I’d hoped it would, but I acted as if it had, anyway, and let out a refreshed sigh.
“You were up early,” I said.
Knox nodded but didn’t tell me where he’d gone, which kind of stung. He couldn’t even open up enough to tell me he’d only been working out. I hated that.
Once upon a time, we’d told each other everything, from banal to important. We’d always been so open and honest with each other. I think I missed just sharing my life with him most of all.
I began to wonder if he could read my thoughts because of the sad way he watched me, like he missed that most of all too. So I said, “What?” hoping he’d finally share...something.
But he shook his head and glanced away as if to tell me he hadn’t been thinking anything worth noting. Then he said, “You drink coffee now.”
I glanced down at my cup in shock as if, wow, I did drink coffee now. He was right; I hadn’t done that when I’d known him before. Granted, I’d only been sixteen, but still... I used to complain about how my father made himself look so important whenever he drank his morning dose. Yet, here I was, drinking it now too.
Knox had noticed the change. It gave me a moment of petty satisfaction, not just because he’d actually noticed, but because he seemed sad about it.
I’d done nothing but see all his differences since he’d gotten out. They’d been shoved in my face repeatedly, screaming at me how he was not the same guy he’d been six years ago. It only seemed fitting that he’d finally see something different in me, and missed the loss of who I’d been.
I shrugged. “Yeah. The first roommate I had after leaving home was a big coffee drinker. She got me into the habit.”
His gaze sharpened. “Pick told me you left your family as soon as you turned eighteen. You don’t have anything to do with them now.”
A part of me wanted to be bitter and snap back, “I thought you didn’t want to talk,” but a bigger part of me was just so freaking glad he finally was.
Acting as casual as possible, I said, “That’s right,” as I took a sip of my drink.
“Why?” he said quietly, his eyes filling with confusion. “Why in God’s name did you disassociate yourself from them?”
I almost spit my coffee out I sputtered so hard from the shock. But really, why did he even need to ask me that? The Bainbridge clan had destroyed any loyalty or compassion I’d ever had for them the night they’d sent Knox to jail. I had begged each family member, cajoled and cried, reasoned and screamed at them. But not one of them had showed him any kind of mercy. Whatever had happened to him these past six years—every single scar on his body—was on their hands.
And so I’d escaped them as soon as it had been legally possible.
“Because they weren’t any kind of family to me,” I said. “When I needed them the most, they weren’t there for me.”
He shook his head. “But—”
“No.” I held up a hand because he didn’t get it. He couldn’t get it. He hadn’t been raised by a true family either. “In the past few months that I’ve worked at Forbidden, I’ve come to know what real family is. And they band together when the going gets tough, they support each other, rib and tease each other, trust each other, and most of all, they accept you for who you are. I never had any of that from my mother, father, or either of my brothers. And dissociating myself from them was the easiest, most amicable decision I ever made. I have never once regretted it.”
“What about college, though?” he pressed, watching me as if he didn’t believe a word I’d just said. “Your big dream. You were supposed to become a child psychologist.”
I sighed, remembering that dream fondly...but not missing the loss of it. Glancing at him, I said, “I decided I didn’t need a fancy degree to help people.”
He opened his mouth, but I held up a hand as I moved toward the table and seated myself before curling my knees up to my chest so I could hug them. “When I was staying at the Gambles’ house before I moved in here, Noel’s ten-year-old brother would climb into bed with me each night after having a nightmare. I guess a year and a half ago, he and another brother and a sister of theirs were living with his mom...who neglected them. He was malnourished and half dead when Noel discovered how bad they had it. So he scooped all three of his siblings up and moved them in with him. But little Colton still suffers from anxiety, worries his mother’s going to return and take him away, drag him back to that other life.”
Knox slowly eased a chair back and lowered himself into it. I smiled as I watched him, loving this, loving being able to share something with him. For the past too many years, every time I’d had a happy moment and felt the urge to tell him about my day, it’d been like a knife in the gut to remember I could no longer sneak out into the trees and tell him anything.
But here he was now, listening to me.
“Finally, I googled what you’re supposed to do with kids having nightmares, and then I employed a couple of the suggestions. You’re supposed to listen and understand, so I asked him about them, and he actually told me everything. Aspen had kind of already told me, but it was more heartbreaking to hear it from Colton’s point of view. So I reassured him, like they tell you to, letting him know Noel had full custody of him now, he didn’t have to worry. And we tried to come up with ways to combat the fear. The article I read talked about nightlights and security objects and some fun-in-the-dark games to conquer your fears. So I had him search the room in the dark for some little things I’d bought him and wrapped with glow-in-the-dark stars on them. I got him a lucky rabbit foot keychain, with the whole explanation of why it would give him good luck, then I attached a keychain-sized bottle of breath spray to the rabbit foot. I told him it was monster repellant so that if he ever woke up afraid, he just needed to spritz that into his mouth and exhale to keep the bad dreams away.”
Knox cocked up a curious eyebrow. “And that actually worked?”
