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I’m still shaken from what just happened, so I walk to the passenger side.
“Not after watching her put down roots all week long.”
“Roots?” I open my door, staring at him from over the car.
“The garden?” His brows lift. “In our backyard?”
“Bullshit.” I laugh. My smile falters. Could he be right? Is that what Cassie’s been doing? Putting down roots? Making this her home? Making us home?
“Hey, I just say it as I see it.” He winks.
“So that’s your trick?”
“If you look at everything and not focus on just one thing, you get to appreciate the entire picture, but most people don’t do that.” He rests his elbows on the top of the car. “Like you and Cassie, when you called me that day to Miller Lane, I didn’t just see a guy lying on the floor through a window. I saw what brought my brother to that window, and when Cassie came back into your life, I watched my brother fall in love with that woman. See, Lix had it wrong when he said Cassie had no chance against you. He said that she was drawn to you because you saved her. When really, it was the other way around. You had no chance against Cassie, she saved you, and that’s why you were drawn to the window. When you met her, she touched a part of you no one else could, and that’s why you kept going back.”
“I went back because I wanted to be sure she was safe.” I try to reason. Although, his makes more sense.
“Right.” He nods. “And how many other Julias have you stalked?”
“Shut up,” I snap.
“Like I said, you never had a chance against her.”
“Let’s go.” I get into the car.
He’s right. At first, I thought something was wrong with me. I couldn’t stop thinking about her after that night. Then I started to stalk Glenn’s home. Partly because I wanted to be sure she was safe, but selfishly, I wanted to see her again. Which was wrong on so many levels. If she had come back, that would’ve meant she wasn’t the strong and fearless woman I couldn’t stop thinking about.
The following two days, I stayed clear of Cassie. I had to sort some shit out, and the guilt was eating me alive.
So I decided to see the one person who might help.
I sit in the cold plastic chair, hands folded in front of me with my mouth resting on them.
She comes through the door, and her eyes find mine.
I took Cole’s week. I had to see her. After what happened at Cassie’s, I’m all fucked up. I don’t know what to do.
I hurt Cassie. Left a mark on her beautiful face.
A mark out of anger.
Mom searches my face as she lowers into the chair across from me. “Brett?”
I pull my hands away long enough to say, “Hi, Mom.”
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“No.” I drop my hands on the table, keeping them locked together. “I almost killed a man.”
She stares at me as if she knows all I need right now is to see her comforting face.
“Am I…” I clear my throat, looking down at my hands, ashamed to ask, but I need to know the truth. “Am I like him?”
“Oh, honey,” she whispers in a gentle tone, and, like any good mother, she’s aware of what I’m speaking of without thoroughly explaining myself. “I know your memories of your father are bad. It’s all your mind will allow you to remember.” She pauses until I raise my eyes to hers. “But it wasn’t all bad. You just can’t remember the good times. Your father had some good qualities. After all, I fell in love with him, and that love made three beautiful boys.”
“How can you defend him?”
“I’m not defending him or saying what he did was okay. I’m only saying that you were traumatized as a child, and you can’t see anything but the bad times. I don’t know what happened to your father. He wasn’t always—”
