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It feels like some cosmic error that I got this lucky. That I found someone who’s willing to make that kind of sacrifice.
And maybe I appreciate it extra, since I’ve experienced versions of love neither permanent nor guaranteed.
My throat is too thick to speak, so I pull her into my arms again. Trying to wordlessly convey what the offer means to me. And hopefully she hears it, because she relaxes into me, her body language totally opposite from the tense anger of a minute ago.
“I don’t have to think about it. But I love you for offering.”
She’s silent. Disagreeing, probably, but respecting my decision.
“Do I tell Sydney?”
Cassia exhales. “I haven’t texted Regan back about the divorce. We’re not supposed to be the adults. My parents are the ones who are supposed to tell her.”
“My mom isn’t going to tell Sydney. She wouldn’t have told me.”
“Would you want Sydney to tell you, if she had found out?” she asks.
“No. I wish I’d never found out. If that had happened…I just wouldn’t have wanted Sydney to shoulder it all by herself. I can handle it.”
She chews on her bottom lip. “She could find out one day. Go looking for answers. Do you want her to find out you had some?”
“She’spregnant, Cassia. She can’t get tested. Can’t donate. What’s the point?”
“She could say goodbye,” Cassia says softly.
I sigh.
Realizing…I have to tell her.
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
CASSIA
Icross my arms, eyes scanning the grooved exterior of the office building that houses the law firm my dad has worked at for as long as I can remember.
I’ve always known his job was stressful and important. Time with him growing up always felt finite. In high school, I’d wake up extra early some mornings just so that I could see him before he left for work. Part of that was driven by guilt—basketball was a passion we shared until I dropped it at the start of high school. My father agreed with my excuse—I should focus all my attention on academics so I could get into a good college and then vet school—but I never admitted the real reason to him. And I could tell he was disappointed by my decision, even if he never said so.
Maybe I was so wrapped up in my own drama then, the same way I was all summer, that I missed noticing all the cracks appear. That I ignored all the warning signs.
Another person passes by, giving me a curious glance before entering the building.
I’ve been standing out here for ten minutes, just staring. It probably looks like I’m casing the place for a planned robbery.
I’m not sure if I should do this.
When I called my mom to let her know I was coming back to Pembrooke for the weekend, she was excited. Once I’m on campus, I usually only come back on school breaks. I didn’t ask her about the divorce and she didn’t bring the subject up. I’m not sure what to make of that.
What I do know is that I haven’t spoken to my dad in weeks.
Despite his busy schedule and missing some moments, I never felt like he was absent. I always felt like I had the whole family that I’m mourning the loss of. And I’m not sure when that shift happened.
It’s probably why I asked Holden for a break this summer. Because I’ve spent years—my entire life—not as a priority. I know my parents love me, just like they love their five other kids.
But I’ve never been the main focus. I was the easy kid who got good grades and wasn’t out late enough to need a curfew. My behavior was taken for granted, the same way it started to feel like Holden took me for granted. Like he could show up whenever it worked for him, and I’d be accommodating.
I needed to know I was still a priority to him and felt like I needed to shock that into happening by having him confront the possibility of losing me. I’m not sure if that was the right way to handle things. I feel silly for doubting him as thoroughly as I did, looking from the place where we are now. But I’m also unsure we’d be in this place if I hadn’t asked for a break.
And now I feel like I need to give my dad a similar ultimatum. To let him know I’m upset my parents are getting a divorce, but that what scares me the most is it feels like I’m losing my father. He should have been there to tell me about the divorce too. To reassure me—and my mom—that it was a change they’d handle together. That it would be okay.
