Page 104 of Faking Forever

Page List

Font Size:

No. She was sick of allowing him to control every interaction between them. This washertime to talk, and she wasn’t going to let him hijack this conversation.

It was too important.

She sucked in a deep, cleansing breath and exhaled amid a cascade of words.

“My mother and I were extremely close. Did I ever tell you that?” He shook his head, looking a little bemused. She sighed, the sound laden with regret. “Of course I didn’t. It’s just one of the many things I have a hard time talking to anyone about.” She shook her head in self-disgust, wishing she weren’t like this but not knowing how else to be. She took a moment to gather her thoughts.

“Uh…we were close. We kind of had to be in a houseful of males. I was about six, nearly seven, when my parents separated and my mother moved back to Cape Town. I was sosureshe would want me with her. But they—she and my father—decided that we would all be better off staying with him. In Edinburgh.

“No discussion. End of story. We were simply informed that we would stay with Dad. And Mom would get us during the holidays.”

He made a small, sympathetic sound and she flinched away from the compassion she saw in his eyes. She wouldn’t be ableto get through this if he showed her any kindness right now. So she averted her gaze, focusing on the wall behind him, as she continued to talk.

“I know you think he’s autocratic and a domineering pain in the arse, but I love my father very much. He’s just not very good at showing affection.” She laughed, a desperate mocking sound, and allowed herself a quick glance at his face. “I know, that’s really rich coming from me, right? Dad was even more distant when he was younger. He was always so preoccupied with work. Cade and Nox tried to emulate him. Of course, this was just their way of trying to win his approval and gain his attention. They stopped laughing, stopped playing and became mini versions of our father.

“Gideon…he and I are close in age, and we had similar personalities. He was my best friend, but he left home as soon as he was of age. He didn’t care about Dad’s approval, didn’t want anything to do with the company.” Another sound from Smith, but this time Kenny didn’t dare look at him. Her eyes misted as she recalled how abandoned she’d felt after Gideon had left.

“I was sixteen when he left, already withdrawn, and with Nox and Cade—at nineteen and twenty, respectively—at college, I was left behind to simply exist. Unseen. Unheard. Unnoticed. In a huge house with an absentee parent who I was sure barely remembered I was there most days. I lived for my mother’s frequent phone calls and texts. It was the only time I felt like I mattered. I knew my brothers and father loved me. They were just sobusyall the time.” Her voice faded away as she got a little lost in her thoughts.

“When did she die?” he asked, voice hushed and gentle, as if he was afraid of spooking her.

Kenny blinked, coming out of her reverie, and focused her eyes on his somber face.

“She was diagnosed the same year Gideon left. Her cancer wasextremely aggressive. She had a double mastectomy shortly after her diagnosis. And she seemed to be getting on top of it. But she lost her battle three years later when I was nineteen.” This time there was nothing she could do to keep the tears at bay, and they slid silently down her cheeks as she told him in a strained voice, “She was so brave. But in the end, she kept making excuses to keep me away. She’d tell me she had plans, was heading to Fiji on a wellness retreat, or to Cabo for a much-needed holiday. I was hurt because she never seemed to want me to visit, and the day she died, I refused to take her call after she’d cancelled on me again.

“I understand now she didn’t want me to see her like that. But I didn’t even know how bad it was until she died. She kept saying she was fine. Doing well. Best of health. Just heading out to a party, the gym, on a date…so many lies. After her funeral, the housekeeper told me that she’d been in constant pain. And Ineverknew. Instead I resented her for choosing her friends and her carefree party lifestyle over me.”

“Jesus.” Smith’s shaky invective compelled her to look at him again. His face was strained, and he was leaning so far forward, she could tell that it took everything in him not to reach for her. But she didn’t want him to touch her, and slid a little bit farther back on the sofa. His eyes sparked as he recognized the movement for the appeal for space that it was, and he shut his eyes before withdrawing as well.

“I’m so fuckingsorry, Kenna.” The words were heartfelt.

She nodded, and swiped at her tears with a shaky hand.

“This was eleven years ago. I shouldn’t still be so affected by it.”

“Did you allow yourself to properly grieve for her?” he asked astutely and she clamped her lips between her teeth to hid their trembling from him.

“Losing my mother was huge. Incomprehensible. She was just gone. No more texts, phone calls, stupid little memes. Thevoid was unbreachable and I found that the only way I could cope with the grief, school,lifein general, was to compartmentalize. Strictly ration my emotions. It was so effective, I just kept doing it. It was the only way I was able to function. Without that coping mechanism, the loneliness and despair would have been overwhelming.

“I closed my emotions off and focused on studying. As a direct result of my mother’s cancer, I was hellbent on becoming an oncologist. Much to my father’s disappointment. Before that, because of my fascination with the construction side of our business, I’d been eyeing a career in civil engineering. But after my mother’s illness and death, I became obsessed with helping other women who were going through the same thing as her. Healing them, giving them more time withtheirdaughters and sons.

“To appease my father, and becauseIreally wanted it, I worked at getting my crane operator’s license as well.”

“Splitting your focus like that must have been hard,” Smith murmured and she shook her head.

“No, it was all soeasy, because I had no emotional or personal life to speak of.”

He seemed troubled by her reply.

“I know this isn’t what you were expecting to talk about. It isn’t aboutus,but?—”

“Kenna,” he interrupted, his eyes blazing with emotion, “this isverymuch about us and Iwantto know this. I need to hear it.”

“Okay,” she whispered, wringing her hands nervously. She’d never revealed any of this about herself to anyone before. “It’s hard for me to—um—talk about this stuff. I mean, I obviously I have a therapist, but talking to you about it is a lot harder than speaking to her. I don’t…I don’t care whatshethinks about me.”

“Kenna, all I want…all I’veeverwanted was to really know you. Hearing all of this, it explainssomuch.”

“Right.” She nodded, not sure what it was explaining, but hoped he didn’t think her even more of a weird misfit because of her poor little rich girl mommy and daddy issues.