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Coming back here to Myrtle Beach is bittersweet.
Bittersweet because even though this is one of the first places I remember, I’m not returning of my own free will. I want answers, and I want them now.
Thumping on my parents’ front door, I take a deep breath because shit is about to get real. Stella has some explaining to do, and I’m not leaving here until she gives me the answers I seek. When she opens the door, however, I’m not sure if she’ll even let me into the house.
“Given your staff the day off?” I quip as she usually wouldn’t be caught dead opening the door.
She folds her arms across her chest, pursing her lips. “I see you haven’t lost this attitude. I refuse to speak to you when you’re this way.”
Tonguing my cheek, I shake my head, infuriated. “This way? Have you ever thought I’m ‘this way’ because you’ve lied to me for so many years? No wonder I can’t remember you. My brain has clearly gone into self-preservation mode because I’ve finally had enough.”
When she opens her mouth, primed on telling me more lies, I strike forward, unable to stand here a second longer. “I know what you did.”
“Did?” She nervously toys with her pearl earring.
“Yes, Mother.” A word has never sounded so dirty. “I know you paid me out for a lousy twenty thousand dollars. How could you?”
She blinks once, caught off guard. “I did it to protect you.” Her excuse didn’t stick the first time around, and it sure as shit doesn’t now.
“Oh, cut the crap. You did it to protect yourself and your precious reputation because, God forbid, I was seen with a Coachman. Cayden told me what you did to his…dad.”
I gulp as I’m still coming to terms with what I did. I shouldn’t be here condemning her, but I need her to know how her cruelty affected so many people.
“Come inside.” She steps from the doorway. This isn’t optional.
Desperate to find out the truth, I brush past her, hating that I’m stepping into the lion’s den—voluntarily. She closes the door, sealing me in for good. “Let’s go into the study. Your father doesn’t know about this, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
I follow as her heels click across the flooring, each step stabbing away at my resolve.
I am angry, so damn angry that everyone, including Cayden, has lied to me. I understand why he did what he did, but so much time has been wasted. And I lost my child…our child. I will never forgive myself for being so selfish. And I will never forgive Stella for playing a part in all of this.
We enter the study, the mood hostile. Stella makes a beeline for the liquor cabinet, which surprises me. She pours two glasses of top-shelf scotch. “Here.”
I accept the offering as God knows this will be easier to stomach with alcohol running through my system. When Stella throws back her drink, her face twisting in pain as the burn hits her throat, it seems she feels the same way.
“It’s true,” she commences, taking a seat behind the large mahogany desk. I decide to stand. “I did pay that money, but I did it because I wanted you to have a chance in life. You were so…infatuated with Cayden Coachman. It was the only way I could save you from throwing your life away.”
“You had no right to do that. None. It was my life,” I cry, hooking my thumb toward me.
“Think of me what you will, but Cayden had no issues accepting the money.”
Inhaling through my nose, I try to focus on why he did it, not the betrayal I feel. “Yes, he was wrong to accept, but you saw he never cashed that check. Yet you stood by and watched me change into you.”
She purses her lips, shoulders pulled back. “I watched you do something with your life. Cayden was a deadweight around your neck, and whether you believe me or not, I did you a favor.”
“I still went back to him!” I reveal, adrenaline coursing through me.
“What?” she gasps, her mask finally slipping.
“For ten years. You may have come between us, but I always found my way back. And he welcomed me home because”—a sob escapes me—“the love we shared, it wasn’t something we could forget. I’m sure I tried, but in the end, my heart won out.
“But because of what you did, I hurt him. I floated in and out of his life, hurting him how he hurt me. But he did everything, everything to protect me.”
By the time I’m done, tears stream down my face.
Stella is out of sorts as I’m certain she isn’t accustomed to such emotion. She no doubt sees this as a sign of weakness, but I don’t. I see it as being human—something she isn’t.
“I know how you ridiculed Cayden’s father when you were children.” She clears her throat, her cold eyes darting to the left, unable to look at me. “How could you do that to him? You have no idea what that did to him…to Cayden,” I add, frowning when thoughts of what he endured as a child crash into me.
I dare not tell her about what happened between Cayden’s father and me. She doesn’t need to know because until I can figure out what exactly is going on, I won’t tell a soul.
“He was nothing but white trash,” she states very matter-of-fact. “And so is his son. You don’t remember the tears, the heartbreak, but I do!”
I flinch, as her emotion is one I haven’t seen before.
“People like us don’t fall in love with the Cayden Coachmans of this world.”
