Page 112 of Secrets Like Ours

Would he still love me if I told him everything? Would we ever be able to move on from that?

He didn’t seem strong enough to take on more pain. He looked like a man teetering on a cliff, one step from disaster.

I had to protect him. That had always been my role, both when we were kids and now.

Maybe it was unhealthy for us to live this way. Maybe the world would call us sick, enmeshed, unstable. Pathetic, even. Maybe the only “right” thing would be to tell him everything and walk away.

But then, we didn’t owe the world anything.

The world had turned its back on us. It had abandoned us, tormented us, chewed us up, and left us for dead.

No.

We didn’t owe the world a damn thing.

I’d tell him one day. Maybe after Christmas, when he’d had a few months to heal. Or maybe after we had children and joy had carved its place back into our lives.

Once the storm had dragged my past into the open, I’d been able to move on. I felt steady now, grounded. Not a single nightmare had come since the night I’d learned the truth about who I really was.

However, now Daniel was the one who was breaking—and I had to protect him.

“She said,” I repeated softly, smiling, “don’t be sad. That she’s all right. And that we should take care of each other. She said we’re both good people, and we deserve to be happy.”

A sad smile tugged at his lips. Relief flickered in his eyes like a candle. “Thank you, Cynthia,” he murmured.

He turned and walked up the stairs toward the Breakers.

I watched him go, his footsteps steady but slow. My mother’s words echoed in my head. Guilt twisted in my chest.

But even if my mother had lied about everything else in her life, one thing she’d said was true: Daniel and I were nothing like her or Michael.

We could be happy.

Maybe two wrongs could make a right.

For now, I wouldn’t let my mom’s dark secrets destroy that.

Some secrets were better left to drown in the waves than be dragged into the light.

Especially secrets like ours.