Page 103 of Inseparable
She knots her hands in her lap, biting on her lip, and little lines furrow her brow. Her entire body is shaking. Reaching out, I lace my fingers in hers. “Don’t be afraid. I meant what I said. I’m here for you, no matter what.”
She nods, gulping before she speaks, and then the words gush forth. “I’m sorry I ran off in the way I did, and I’m sorry I hurt you. I know that was a horrible thing to do to you and Mom, but I convinced myself you were all better off without me, but, really, I ran away to punish myself. I don’t believe I deserve a future, not when I’ve taken Ayden’s from him.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand. “I need to get this out, Devin. All this stuff has been fermenting in my head for years, and I need to release it. Consequences be damned.” She stops to draw a shaky breath. “I know you’ll want to respond, but let me say my piece first.”
I lift our conjoined hands to my mouth, planting a kiss on the back of her hand. “I understand. I won’t interrupt.”
She gulps nervously again, and I can tell how difficult this is for her. “I feel guilty every time I think of that day—the day Ayden died—because I can still recall how blissfully happy I was that morning after spending the night with you. How euphoric I felt because we were finally in the same place. That we were going to be together, as a couple, in the way I’d always dreamed of. You made me so unbelievably happy that day.” She stares at me, and the truth radiates in her eyes. A second later, the dreamy look fades. “I also remember the phone call and the expression on your face as you heard the news.” Her chest heaves up and down. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that look or the deep sense of foreboding that swept over me or the incredible, indescribable pain I felt when Mom told me he was dead.” She breaks down then, sobbing, and I pull her to me, my own tears mingling with hers. We hold one another, quietly crying for several minutes. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for that,” she says, sniffling. “I cheated on him, and I broke his heart, and he went home and killed himself. How can I ever defend myself?”
It’s so hard not to respond, but I promised I wouldn’t interrupt.
She wipes her tears away. “Everything good in my life seemed tarnished. And it wasn’t getting any better. I was in agony, and I hated myself so much. If I hadn’t been so weak, if I’d just stuck to my guns and stayed away from you until he returned, and I’d talked to him, then none of this would’ve happened. But there was no point dwelling on that. I couldn’t change the past, but I could alter the future.”
She grips my hands tighter. “I didn’t believe I deserved a chance at happiness. Why should I get a do-over when Ayden doesn’t get one? I believed if I stayed my guilt and my anger would have doomed our relationship anyway, and I knew I couldn’t handle it if I hurt you too. So, it seemed easier to take myself out of the equation, so I couldn’t hurt you or my mom or Mariah anymore. It seemed like a winning plan at the time.”
She half-laughs, bitterness slicing through her tone. She shakes her head sadly. “I knew how much it would hurt me to leave you all behind, and I wanted to hurt. I wanted to feel physical pain. But it was more than just that. Ayden and you always protected me. I felt it was my turn, so I left to protectyou.”
Dr. Bennett interjects, looking at Ange. “I’d like to ask Devin how he feels about that.”
She nods, and I roll my shoulders, trying to loosen the tension in my muscles as I peer into her beautiful blue eyes. “I hate hearing you blame yourself for someone else’s actions,” I start off saying. “Even though a part of me can relate, because I felt horrific guilt for years too. I continued to see my therapist, and he helped me work through my feelings. The reality is Ayden is the only one responsible. We don’t know why he took his life, and we never will, but he’s the one who made that decision. Not you. Not me. I’m not saying that I don’t understand why you felt like that, but I don’t understand how you didn’t blame me? We slept together. There was a pair of us in it, but you only blamed yourself.”
“Because you weren’t his girlfriend. I was.”
I moisten my parched lips with my tongue. “I seem to remember that being a bit unclear. Besides, I was his best friend, and I shouldn’t have slept with his girl, but there were things you didn’t know back then. Things he knew, and I’ve often wondered if I’d told you would you have felt differently?”
“What things?” She looks confused. “I knew you both hid stuff from me out of some misguided sense of protection, but I don’t see what that’s got to do with this?”
I draw a deep breath. “I need to tell you some stuff, and I need to start at the beginning for it to make sense, but I need to know you’re up for this.” I glance over at Dr. Bennett, and she deflects to Ange.
Slowly, she nods. “That’s why we’re here today. I want to hear it.”
I exhale deeply before speaking. “The man who raised me, who I thought at the time was my father, used to beat me.” Her beautiful face pales. “It only started after my mother left. Before that, he used to beat her.”
She gasps, but I keep going. “As you know, I found out years later that his brother, Jim, was actually my father. It seems apparent the asshole discovered the truth around the time my mother left. I don’t understand why he didn’t tell Jim that Lucas and I were his kids. If he hated us that much, he could’ve offloaded us pretty easily. Jim thinks he kept quiet to spite him.”
Before I wander off topic, I redirect the conversation where it needs to go. “Anyway, those bruises you saw on me weren’t always from the boxing ring. Most were from his fists. The first few years, he took the brunt of his anger out on Cam and me. As Cam got older, he protected me, stood up to the ol’ man, and the beatings died down, until Cam left. When he joined the marines, he worried about what would become of us, but I assured him we’d be fine. I didn’t want him giving up his dream for us. But as soon as Cam was out of the picture, the beatings resumed. I was old enough, and skilled enough, to fight back, and I did, but it didn’t stop him from going after me when he was wasted. We fought viciously. Beat the crap out of each other time and time again. I started drinking heavily in an effort to block it out, and then I’d feel so guilty, because I worried I was exposing Lucas, and I’d done everything up to that point to shield Luc from him.” I stare into her eyes. “Ayden knew. As did your mom.”
“What?” Shock is etched across her gorgeous face.
“It was your mom who called social services those couple of times. She was worried about us. But Cam and I went to her and begged her not to do it again. We were terrified they were going to split us up, put us into foster care. I didn’t want to be separated from my brothers. That’s when it was agreed that we’d eat dinner at your house, and your mom made it clear we could sleep over any time we needed to. She couldn’t promise she wouldn’t involve the authorities if she saw evidence of further abuse, so, after Cam left, when the beatings restarted in earnest, I had no choice but to deliberately put some distance between me and you. If you knew, you’d tell her, and I couldn’t take that risk. Even though I know you would’ve kept the secret if I’d asked you to, I didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on you.”
“Oh my God.” She clamps a hand over her mouth. “I had my suspicions during our final year of high school, but I’d no idea it’d been going on for years.”
“I didn’t want you to know for a couple reasons. I was ashamed, and I didn’t want you thinking less of me. It made me feel like less of a man.” It sounds so stupid now, but it’s how I felt at the time. “But mostly it was because I was protecting you from him.”
She goes deathly quiet. “In what way?” she whispers a minute later.
“Cam and I always believed Dad had a hand in Mom’s disappearance. That was proven three years ago. You probably don’t know this, but he died the year after you left. He was stabbed to death in a bar brawl in Cincinnati. Lucas was living with Jim, I was in college, and Cam was abroad with the marines, so the house lay idle. We eventually sold it, and when the new owners were renovating, my mom’s remains were found in the backyard.”
“Oh my God, Devin. I’m so sorry.”
I nod over the football-sized lump in my throat, the usual torment ambushing me. The thought that my mom was buried in our backyard the whole time kills me. Especially when I think of all the nights I cursed her for leaving. Wished ill of her. Not knowing she was dead all along and right under my nose. I don’t think I’ll ever overcome the clusterfuck of emotions surrounding her death and my upbringing. But now isn’t the time to get into it.
This is about Ange. Not me.
“The point is, we always knew he had issues with women. We suspected foul play in relation to Mom, and then he tried to attack Cam’s girlfriend, Lori, one night when he was drunk. Cam protected her and convinced her not to press charges, but we knew then we were living with a monster. I didn’t want him knowing I had feelings for you, so I tried to stay away, and I slept around, in part, to throw him off the scent.”
A familiar wounded look sweeps across her features, reminding me how much I hurt her back then.
