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But she only nods, begging me to believe her. “Don’t you remember? He used to play catch with you.”
“He never played catch with me,” I spit out, but then memories I’ve tried so hard to repress come charging forward, and I blanch.
Suddenly, vivid memories of Phil, not my father, playing catch on the front lawn assault my senses, and I hold the table for support.
“No, it can’t be him,” I deny, but I know what she says is true, as faint flashbacks of Phil being kind to me rise to the surface.
“That’s the only reason I left you. Phillip promised me he would look after you, and I knew your father loved you in his own way.”
“Loved me? Do you realize how crazy you sound? He used me to get back at you! And then Phillip made me his drug mule!”
“I never thought he’d hurt you,” Cynthia says, her desperate eyes beseeching me to believe her.
“Well, he did.”
“I didn’t know. Phillip promised me.”
“Yeah, well, Phil is a fucking liar!” I yell, kicking back my chair.
“Mia, please, let me explain. There’s more,” she says, standing and attempting to latch onto my arm to stop my retreat.
But I pull out of her grasp before I detonate and take her down with me. “I’ve heard enough.”
“I know you’re angry with me…”
“Angry?” I sarcastically chuckle. “I’m a little more than just angry. I know I asked for the truth, but I just need time. And space. I need to get my head around this and not see you as being the bad guy because right now, from where I stand, you’re worse than them.
“Your selfishness and your cowardliness is the reason I’m so fucked up. It’s the reason I wanted to kill myself every day of my damn life!”
My harsh words slap her across the cheek, and she recoils, the hurt evident on her face. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, tears running down her cheeks.
“Yeah, so am I.” I shoulder past her, shoving open the back door before I suffocate.
I take off into a quick sprint, desperately needing to get away from the truth I so longed for. But I now realize I preferred the illusion of my past because hearing the truth has not set me free. It has only made me angrier and all the more hostile toward someone I was starting to open up to.
“Idiot,” I mumble as I slow down to a walk after charging off into the dense woods like a raving lunatic.
My heavy breathing is the only thing I can hear, and it’s refreshing to know I’m out here on my own because I need time to digest Cynthia’s confession.
I did ask for the truth, but I was so not ready for her to divulge the sins of her past and for them to be so earth-shattering. I know there’s more to the story, but I’ve heard enough for today. This will put my curiosity to rest for now, and I’ll think twice before asking for the truth again.
Not once did I fathom my past could be so messed up.
But the more I learn, the less I want to know.
I turn around before I get lost and slowly make my way through the woods. Just as I’m about to push through the clearing, I see Polly sitting on the top step of the deck, puffing on a cigarette. Next to her sits Quinn, and for some reason, I mask my steps and creep toward them, hoping to remain unseen.
I can’t hear them, but I can sure see them. I clearly see Polly lean into Quinn, and he lightly pulls her into his side for a loose hug.
However, I surprise myself because my jealousy doesn’t have me charging toward them in a fit of rage. I can see their embrace is purely platonic.
No doubt the whole house heard Cynthia’s and my exchange downstairs because I wasn’t exactly quiet. But Polly has a right to know as this involves her, too.
It involves us all.
Hearing a branch snap behind me, I quickly spin around with my heart in my throat. I let out a relieved breath when I see Tristan and Lucky a few feet away.
“Hey,” he says, his cheeks pink from the cool breeze.
