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“Don’t do that,” he muttered.
I rolled my head back. “Do what?”
“Lie to make me feel better.”
I sighed but nodded despite hating the idea of being blunt like him. Why would I want to hurt someone’s feelings if I didn’t have to? If a white lie could spare someone pain, wasn't it a good thing? He had already been through so much. It made my own boring life pale in comparison. The only action I’d seen was getting from my father’s estate to here. During those short weeks, I lived more than I ever did during my whole life. I was lucky, or at least oblivious to the suffering life could deal you.
Marc wasn’t. He learned the hard way how it was to survive hell, and he did. A small smile crept on my lips as I watched him. No wonder he didn’t care about choosing his words. A few truths were nothing, not matter how they stung. Somehow, I admired it about him. How he never cared what anyone would think or do. He just didn’t give a shit. Had he always been like that? Or did the pain he was forced to endure shape him into the cold-hearted man he was now? Maybe one day I’d find out.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, snapping me back to him.
Again, I couldn’t say what was on my mind. It was too awkward, too personal. How could I tell him how he was the strongest, most amazing man I ever knew?
“How tough you are.” It slipped past my lips before I could stop it.
He let out a little laugh, rolling his head to look at me, and I tried to ignore that spark of excitement that zapped through me every time those steel irises locked on mine.
“How do you do it?” I asked. “How do you find the strength to go on when everything is… falling apart?” I whispered the last word, vulnerability hitting hard. From the look on his face, he knew I no longer referred to his own struggles. I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing my breathing to remain calm even though my pulse picked up its speed.
He rolled his head back, turning his gaze to the ceiling. “You just do,” he said at last. “You have no fucking choice.”
I blinked away a lone tear falling down my cheek. That was the harsh truth.
His hand found mine, holding it tight as he spoke toward the ceiling. “Life goes on,” his voice was raw, cutting me like broken glass. “Even when you wish it wouldn’t. When you wanna lay down and never get up. You do. It just goes on, Kaylie. And you roll with it.”
Silent tears fell. He was right. Speaking from experience, no doubt. And I wasrollingtoo, trying to stay afloat in the sea of emotions dragging me down. If I slowed down. If I let everything settle, I wasn’t sure I’d be strong enough to keep myself together. How did one get over missing a whole life based on one sick lie? How could I accept my father did this to me?
“You’re not alone, Kaylie.” He squeezed my hand. “Don’t make the same mistake I did.”
“What’s that?”
“Shutting everyone out.”
I smiled through my tears. Of course, he did. I never saw him as the type to share or cry on someone’s shoulder. But knowing he went through something so bigalonefilled me with a deep sadness and a strong need to hug him tight. I didn’t, but it took all I had to remain still.
“Even Johnny?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
He let out a harsh laugh, and something that looked a lot like regret came over his face. “Especially Johnny. The hell I gave him. I’m surprised he didn’t kill me.”
“He knew, didn’t he?”
Marc gave a small nod and it was all I needed to understand. The amount of time they spent together, he had to have known, even though Marc never talked about it.
“You know, I went to work right after, as if nothing happened.” His voice grew hard, closed off. The only way he knew how to deal with it. “As if pretending it didn’t, would make it all right.” His hand slid from mine, but I was quick to grab it, holding on so hard it probably hurt.
“Johnny kept telling me to take a break, to go home, but I couldn’t. I just fucking couldn’t.”
“You couldn’t face it,” I whispered, suddenly understanding too well. I was doing the same, but I clung to denial instead of anger. I kept telling myself this was just a dream. And I would wake up and my father would be there giving me my medicine… I squeezed my eyes shut to trap fresh tears.
I couldn’t hide from it anymore. It was not a dream. The frail illusion I clung to burst to a million of pieces. I couldn’t put them together, no more than Marc could piece his broken life together.
My father never cared for me. It was the cold hard truth, as Izzy would like to call it. It was something I had to come to terms with. I was nothing but aget out of jailcard to him, and he used it well.
Lies. So many lies. For so long that it was hard to believe the truth when it was revealed. The only good thing that came out of it was that Ihada life. A future.
Marc shifted beside me, and when I blinked him back into focus, he was on his side, eyeing me with those sharp steel eyes. “You’re facing it,” his voice was low, knowing, and I managed a weak nod.
“I’m alone,” I whispered the truth that cut the deepest. All I ever wanted was a big loving family and friends. I never had any. It was me and my dad. Now, it was justme…
