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And I’d basically turned Brandon into my enemy because he was the only one who wouldn’t put up with it. Who actually challenged me on my shit when things were at their worst. Who told me point blank that I couldn’t keep hurting Dad or Darcy, that he wouldn’t stand for it. And because of it, I’d almost come to blows with him.
And then there was Margot. She’d always been kind and welcoming to me, probably because she knew I was important to Jacob, even if I didn’t really want to see it. And I’d never been that kind or welcoming back. The few times I’d actually come around for family events over the past few years, I’d gone out of my way to try to make her feel unwelcome in her own damn home. As if I had a right to be there anymore, more than she did.
And Jacob, the only real parent I’d ever had, who’d given me an incredible life instead of the shit hand I probably would’ve been dealt if my own parents had kept me, or if he didn’t adopt me and I’d been dumped into the system instead… I’d disappointed him, again and again. Attacked him for wanting more for me.
I’d accused him of wanting me to be something that I wasn’t, someone more like him and his other sons, when all he really wanted me to be, probably, was a good man.
Even I could see that, sometimes, but I’d been so unwilling to let down my guard with them—with anyone, maybe—since the car accident. To believe that they actually loved me. Just me, how I was.
No matter how fucking deficient I was.
Because maybe for a long time, I didn’t actually fucking love me.
Because after the accident, laid up in that hospital bed, unable to play hockey or be the person I thought I was, the person I thought had earned my family’s approval… I really didn’t know what was left of me.
And when I finally recovered and started to rebuild my life, I’d made damn sure it was a life they wouldn’t approve of anymore. Or the very least, that they wouldn’t understand.
It would bemylife. Not the one they expected me to live.
I’d built a life that they wouldn’t be a part of. That was on me, though. Not them. I’d been the one who excluded them from my life, not the other way around.
You’ve hurt every member of your family. Repeatedly.
Don’t do that to her.
I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to hurt her.
But I was, wasn’t I?
I wasn’t even sure I knew how to stop. I’d never had a lasting relationship before or one that was deep. I’d never actually devoted myself to a woman in a way that mattered. I’d never actually cared to before.
I’d told myself I didn’t want any woman tying me down.
But maybe the truth was I’d never really been man enough to take on a woman. To allow myself to let her into my heart. To love her. No matter if she loved me back or what.
I’d never taken that kind of risk. Not even close.
I didn’t take on any challenge at all unless I believed I could win. And so far, any relationship I’d had, I’d looked at it the same way. Like something I could win, walk away from victorious.
And I’d never looked back to see if the woman was okay with how I left her. I didn’t even treat the women I’d dated with as much respect as I treated an opponent I’d crushed in a fight.
It was like I’d never really grown up in that regard or something.
Like there was a part of me that was still twenty years old. A part of me that had actually died in that car. And then just remained stuck. Like a ghost.
Hanging around and causing mischief, whispering dark shit in my ears. Keeping me trapped in a terrible part of my past that I’d rather just forget.
But I couldn’t forget it, could I?
Not with that spoiled brat ghost lingering, trying to remind me of who I was… when maybe that just wasn’t who I was supposed to be anymore.
ChapterThirty-Five
Jolie
“Here they are,” Danica said. “What do you think? You want to try them on?”
I was dimly aware that she was holding up a pair of earrings that she’d made and I was supposed to be paying attention. I heard her, sort of, but I was too enamored with a perfect spiral. The tiny, white, ice cream cone shaped seashell in my palm was an absolutely flawless design, except for one thing. The little crack running right through it.
