I dream about my parents that night, which comes completely out of left field, considering that I haven’t spoken to them since I left home at eighteen. I dream about the day I left, about my dad’s disappointed expression and my mom’s irate ranting—a fight I can barely even remember anymore. Mom’s face is a fuzzy static that matches Dad’s, and even if I squint, I can’t make them out. Have I forgotten what they look like?
There’s an ache that comes with the dream, one I haven’t let myself feel for a very long time—some crushing anxiety about being alone. A stifling worry that comes from being such a disappointment to the two people whose love should have come easy.
I feel my feet sinking into the grass outside my house as my mother’s voice starts to fade, and panic claws at my chest as I struggle to climb back out. I throw out my arms as I open my mouth to scream, but no words come, and I realize that the ground is literally going to swallow me up without me being able to do a thing about it.
But then I hear my name, like a soft sigh on the wind, and strong hands grasp mine to pull me back up. There’s a flash of warm brown and green looking back at me, a blinding smile that comes with it. He whispers my name again and again, and the panic in my chest ebbs to some blooming heat that makes me tingly all over.
Cassie.
Cassie.
Cassie.
“Cassie.”
I wake to soft sheets beneath me and softer lips at my shoulder, groaning as I stretch my arms to shove them beneath the pillows as I come to. Aiden’s hand is rubbing gently against my spine as his lips continue to leave barely there kisses at my back.
What a weird dream, I think.
Not that I have time to dwell on it, humming like a content housecat when I feel his mouth at my scar, tracing one side.
“Good morning,” he mumbles against my skin.
I yawn, turning my face so I can peek back at him from over my shoulder. “What time is it?”
“Early, I think,” he answers. “My phone’s still in my pants.”
“Mine’s downstairs.” Moving sounds like the last thing I want to do right now. “How are you so chipper this early?”
He grins before he leans to kiss my shoulder again. “I had a great night.”
“But aren’t you exhausted?”
“I’m used to running on low sleep,” he says. “You’re just giving me better incentive.”
It takes incredible effort to roll to my side, my eyes still heavy with sleep as I prop my cheek against my fist. I know that like this my breasts are almost fully on display, and I won’t pretend it isn’t intensely satisfying to see Aiden eyeing them hungrily.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warn him. “I am out of commission. My poor vagina is on strike. I actually think I have temporary paralysis down there.”
“I highly doubt that,” he chuckles. “I don’t remember hearing any of these complaints last night.”
“I will not be held accountable for things I did or said mid-orgasm.”
He laughs again, closing the distance between us to kiss me instead. “Is this allowed?”
“As long as you behave,” I murmur, leaning into it.
Aiden sighs against my mouth before his forehead comes to rest against mine. “We need to get up. I’m sure Wanda is ready to put Sophie out on the street by now.”
“Doubt it,” I tell him. “When I called her on the way home last night, she said Sophie was still hustling her at cards. Wanda probably won’t even let her leave until she gets back on a winning streak.”
“Maybe Wanda will make pancakes for breakfast so Sophie can add one more person to the list of people making them that she prefers over me.”
“Wow, someone’s bitter.”
Aiden scoffs. “I’m not bitter.”
“Sure you aren’t.” I fall to my back, stretching my arms over my head again. “You might have to carry me downstairs.”
“Only if I can do it while you’re naked.”
“Fine. I’m getting up. I need some water, anyway.”
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, feeling a burning in my thighs and an aching in my back—but all of it brings back memories of how I got so sore to begin with, making me not mind so much. Aiden is stretching in bed behind me when I pick up the discarded white T-shirt he’d been wearing under his button-down last night, pulling it over my head. It dwarfs me, but I figure it’ll do for a trip downstairs for some water.
I can hear him rolling out of bed as I leave the room, turning my neck back and forth to loosen it up as I head toward the stairs. The house is much quieter without the sound of Sophie milling about; usually I can hear the sounds of her Switch or maybe even Encanto playing for the dozenth time, and I realize that as amazing as my night with Aiden was, I miss the little gremlin.
I grab a bottle of water from the fridge as I check the time on the oven. It’s only eight in the morning, which is normally around the time Sophie wakes up, so by the time we get dressed and on the road, I imagine Sophie will be bouncing off the walls of Wanda’s kitchen. I laugh at the thought; I can already hear Wanda pretending to be put out by Sophie’s energy.
I’ve just filled my glass and brought it to my mouth for a drink when I hear thudding footsteps coming down the stairs—heavy and urgent almost as if Aiden’s running. And then I hear him talking.
“No, of course,” he says in a tight tone. “I’ll be there immediately. And Sophie, is she—? Right. Yes. Yes, I know. Her aunt? Is she there? That’s—” Aiden stops at the bottom of the stairs, gripping his phone tightly in his hand and closing his eyes as his other hand makes a fist at his side. “Okay. I’m glad Sophie isn’t alone. Yes. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
I set my glass on the counter when he hangs up, watching as he stares at the floor for a moment, looking lost. I move quickly to his side to try to get his attention, bringing my palm to his jaw to force him to look at me. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Aiden blinks at me like he’s only just now seeing me; his mouth parting and his eyes searching my face as if he’s trying to find what he should say. “Cassie, it’s—”
“Did something happen?” I can feel worry creeping into my limbs like a chill. “Is Sophie okay?”
“She’s fine,” Aiden assures me, reaching to wrap his hands around my wrists. “She’s okay. It’s . . .” His lips press together, his expression pained. “It’s Wanda.”
Every part of me goes cold. “What?”
“Wanda, she . . .” He swallows, and it looks like he’d rather say anything else than what he’s about to say to me. “Wanda had a heart attack.”
I don’t say a word as I run to my room to change.
I learn more details about what happened on our drive to the hospital; sometime early this morning, Wanda started having chest pains and woke Sophie up. Sophie called 911 at Wanda’s instruction before she inevitably passed out, which left a terrified Sophie alone, trying to get a hold of us.
And our phones were forgotten on the floor somewhere.
The guilt I feel is palpable, and I can only imagine that Aiden feels the same, if not worse. His knuckles remained stark white against the steering wheel the entire drive to the hospital, and he doesn’t utter a word the whole way there. I know that we were told that Wanda is stable, and that the worst is behind her, but still. I feel that looming sense of dread at the idea of the first person to really love me lying in the hospital.
When we finally arrive, I have to sprint to keep up with Aiden as we rush down the corridor of the floor Wanda is on, and when we finally round the corner near Wanda’s room to spot a tired-looking Sophie clinging to her aunt Iris, I feel equal parts relieved and terrified. Sophie doesn’t notice us at first, sitting next to Iris on a bench in the hall as Iris looks straight ahead with an angry expression. I know this isn’t going to go well.
Iris notices us first, turning her head at the sound of our footsteps and glaring at the pair of us as she tightens her arm around Sophie’s shoulders. “Nice of you to finally join us.”
Aiden ignores her, going straight to Sophie to crouch in front of her. He reaches out to cup her face, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Sophie mumbles, her little lip trembling. “Wanda’s sick. I tried to help, but she—she fell asleep, and I couldn’t wake her up.”
“Shh,” Aiden soothes, loosening Iris’s grip on his daughter and pulling Sophie into his arms. “You did amazing. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry we didn’t answer the phone.”
Iris looks livid, her expression darker than I’ve ever seen it as she glances between the pair of us with what can only be described as contempt. “How could you leave her with an elderly woman and then just ignore your phone all night?”
“I didn’t hear it go off,” Aiden answers tightly. I can tell he’s doing his best to remain civil, but I can also sense how stressed he is right now. “It was a mistake.”
“A mistake,” Iris snorts, moving to stand as she gestures between us. “I wonder why that is? Do you think that maybe it’s because you decided to go off”—she gives me a deliberate look that is anything but pleasant—“and have fun on your own?”
I feel my stomach twist with more guilt, hating that I’m the reason he’s being berated right now. Iris is looking at me like I’m something she is trying to scrape off her shoe, and Aiden’s weary expression makes me feel pretty equivalent to that. I can see every bit of ground I’ve gained with Iris blowing away like dust in the wind, every victory circling down the drain. It’s all over her face that she blames me for this just as much if not more than Aiden.
“Iris, it wasn’t his fault, it was—”
“Just don’t,” Iris practically spits. “You know, you really had me fooled. I thought you cared about her. But you were just trying to get something else. Weren’t you.”
I rear back as if she’s slapped me, and I hear Aiden take a deep breath. He smiles at Sophie, reaching into his wallet to pull out a few bills and handing them over to her. “Why don’t you go get yourself something from the vending machine? It’s right down the hall.” He points to the large machine at the end of the hallway we’re standing in. “I’m sure you’re hungry.”
Sophie nods solemnly, taking the bills and looking warily between the three very tense adults surrounding her before she shuffles off.
Iris is looking at me again like I’m garbage, and it makes my face hot with embarrassment. It feels like I’ve deluded myself into thinking that we were making progress, because with one mistake it’s all crumbling away.
Aiden’s voice is cautious when he speaks again. “Hey, I’m glad you were here for Sophie, but—”
“Of course I’m here for Sophie,” Iris hisses. “I’m always here for Sophie. Which is exactly why she should be with me.” She pokes a finger at Aiden’s chest. “You left Sophie with an elderly woman you barely know so you could run off and fuck your nanny. What the hell were you thinking?”
I can feel the air rushing from my lungs like I’ve just had the wind knocked out of me. The way she says it makes it sound like some dirty, cheap thing—like I’m someone Aiden picked up for a quick lay. It makes me feel dirty, hearing it said like that.
Aiden looks livid, a tic in his jaw as if it’s taking all of his restraint not to completely tear Iris a new asshole. “You don’t know what you’re talk—”
“Actually, I think I do,” Iris laughs derisively. “I’ve turned a blind eye to it, because I thought she cared about Sophie, but it’s clear that she cares more about you. Apparently, Sophie is just an afterthought to the both of you.”
“Iris,” Aiden says tightly. “Don’t you dare—”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Aiden Reid,” she seethes, clearly keyed up to the point of no return. “I sit back and watch you bumble your way through trying to be a father, and I have done everything I can to try and help you, to find a solution that’s actually in Sophie’s best interest. But you’ve been so wrapped up in your own ego, you’ve never even tried to consider what might be best for her. Which is clearly not living with you.”
“My ego has nothing to do with it,” he snaps back. “Sophie is my child, not yours, and you’re not going to sit here and tell me that—”
“I don’t have to sit here and tell you anything,” she says with a humorless laugh. “I can tell it to a judge, instead. I think one might find this entire situation extremely interesting.”
That panic is back, scratching at my chest from the inside like it might burst right out of me at any second. “Wait,” I interject. “Iris. I’m so sorry. This is my fault. I would never do anything to hurt Sophie. I’m the one who suggested—”
“I don’t care,” Iris interrupts, her eyes wild and wet with unshed tears. “The only thing I care about is my niece calling me completely terrified this morning from the back of an ambulance because her father wouldn’t pick up the phone. All because he was getting his dick wet.”
“That’s enough.” Aiden’s face is red, a hardness to his eyes I’ve never seen before. “Get the fuck out of here, Iris. Right now.”
“You can’t tell me what to—”
“If you don’t leave at this very second,” he says darkly, “I’m going to go straight to the courthouse tomorrow and file a restraining order. Do you want to spend the money it will take to fight that?”
She narrows her eyes. “And you think that will stick?”
“Do you want to find out?”
A second passes between them as I stand by the wayside, silent and stunned.
“Fine,” Iris says finally. “But this isn’t over, Aiden. I’ve known from the beginning you were going to fuck up. I just had to bide my time and wait for it to happen.” She pauses midstep beside me to regard me directly, her expression a mixture of disappointment and hurt and rage all rolled into one. “I hope you were worth it.”
Aiden stares at some spot on the wall behind her as Iris stomps off, and I turn my head to catch her telling Sophie goodbye at the end of the hall. I reach for Aiden, to do what, I don’t know—comfort him, maybe—but I draw my hand back, battling with some strange feeling.
I hope you were worth it.
Suddenly every good feeling I’ve had in the last twenty-four hours drains away, leaving nothing but worry and guilt and shame in its wake. I hadn’t considered before this moment what it might mean for Aiden in the long run, the two of us being together—hadn’t even entertained the thought of what people might say about him, for lack of a better expression, fucking his nanny.
Aiden finally looks down at me, a multitude of different emotions playing out in his features. Fear, anger, regret—it’s all there. But what’s worse than that, I think, is that flicker of disappointment in his eyes. I don’t know who it’s for, him or me or just this situation, but it rouses all sorts of old emotions from days when I’d been all too familiar with this look. It’s practically the only one my parents ever gave me.
I’d been a burden to them too.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, still feeling that icky sense of guilt.
Aiden shakes his head. “This isn’t your fault, Cassie.”
Yes, it is. How can it not be?
I want to cry, but I force myself to hold it together.
“I made a mistake,” he says flatly, looking down at the floor. “And I’ll deal with it.”
A mistake? Does he mean me? I can’t bring myself to ask. I swallow around a growing lump in my throat, trying to find words but coming up short.
“You should check on Wanda,” he tells me, his expression one of defeat and fatigue. “I’ll take Sophie home.”
He’s pushing you away.
Part of me thinks he wouldn’t, but that part is being shushed by a very loud, pathetic voice right now.
“Okay,” I say quietly. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“I’ll see you at home,” he says, trying for a smile but not quite managing it.
I nod as he pats my shoulder, the gesture holding none of the warmth that I feel he would have given me before this. It only makes me feel worse. I watch him go and join Sophie, who has taken residence on a bench further down the hall, and she casts a glance back toward me when she starts to leave with Aiden, waving feebly.
I return it with a smile, but like Aiden’s, it doesn’t meet my eyes.
Seeing Wanda hooked up to machines only worsens my darkening mood. The nurse said that the meds they gave her would make her sleepy, and she’s been out for a good hour, but I’m determined to wait until she wakes up. My phone’s been dead since we left earlier, a by-product of leaving it off the charger all night. Another mistake I’ve made in the last twenty-four hours.
I lean my head back against the wall of Wanda’s room, rubbing at my arms to fight the chill of the hospital. I’ve had nothing to do for the last hour except replay the confrontation with Iris over and over—reliving her angry words and Sophie’s worried face and Aiden’s defeated exhaustion again and again.
I made a mistake.
Maybe he didn’t mean me, I keep telling myself. Maybe he was referring to this situation. I’m not even sure that it matters. Regardless of how we ended up here this morning, I know deep down that I have now completely become something Iris has tucked away in her arsenal to use in her unyielding fight to take Sophie. I’m now the biggest piece of ammo she has, it seems. And how in the hell do I live with that?
I hope you were worth it.
I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, breathing in and out as tears threaten to gather there. It feels like I’m against a wall, stuck between what I want and what’s best for this little family I care about so much. Will I always be a stumbling block for them? Just something to be used against Aiden? What happens when Iris takes him to court and he decides I’m not worth the trouble? It’s not like he would choose me over Sophie, and I wouldn’t want him if he would. Half the reason I love him is because of how devoted he is to Sophie.
I pull my hands from my eyes, blinking up at the ceiling in a daze.
Do I . . . love him?
The realization hits me like a bag of bricks, but instead of elation, I only feel more dread. If I love Aiden, and we keep going as we are—he’ll get so deep in this thing with me that he will stubbornly hang on long after I’ve proven to be bad for him and Sophie. Or what’s worse, he’ll toss me aside. Both options make my chest hurt, and I know that going through either would break me to pieces.
I can’t escape the sick suspicion that the longer I stay, the more of a burden I’ll become for them.
“You look like shit.”
I sit straight up, seeing Wanda squinting at me from her bed.
“Oh my God, you’re awake,” I say with relief, pushing out of my chair to go to her bedside. “How are you feeling?”
“Eh. They didn’t have to open me up, at least. I’m sure they’ll be on my ass about changing my diet after this.”
“Which you will be doing.”
“My mama has been dead for years, girl. Quit talking like you’re her.”
Despite everything, this makes me laugh. “You scared the shit out of me, Wanda. I need you to live for at least another twenty years.”
“Lord, I hope not,” she grumbles. “How’d you sneak in here anyway?”
“Told them I was your granddaughter.”
“Slick. Real slick.”
I frown. “Seriously, are you okay?”
She gives me a tired smile. “I told you that you were gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.” Her smile dissipates at my crumpled expression. “Oh, stop it.” She struggles to sit up in bed, and I put a hand behind her back to help her up. “I’m not dead yet.” She looks worried then. “Where’s Sophie?”
“Aiden took her home.” Just the mention of both of them makes my chest throb. “How much do you remember?”
Wanda shrugs. “I told her to call 911 when I started having chest pains. She did real good. There’s bits and pieces from the ambulance but nothing much after that.”
“She couldn’t get in touch with us,” I say guiltily. “We both forgot to keep track of our phones last night.”
Wanda chuckles. “Imagine you were too busy shaking the sheets.”
“It isn’t funny! We both feel like shit. Sophie had to call her aunt Iris.”
“Damn. That harpy that keeps bothering your fellow? That sounds like a fun time.”
“It was awful, Wanda. The way she tore into Aiden . . .” I can feel my eyes welling, and I have to take a moment to stave it off. “She threatened to take it to a judge.”
“Oh, let her. She’s just being bitter.”
“She threatened Aiden because of me, Wanda. If he hadn’t been with me last night . . .”
“Then I might be dead for all we know,” Wanda says assertively. “That girl saved my damned life. That’s how fate works, girl.”
“I know that, but if I hadn’t—”
“Shut that shit up,” she says, clucking her tongue. “Quit trying to put this on you. It isn’t your fault I got a shitty ticker.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit quietly, those tears I’d been willing away are pooling at the corners of my eyes and threatening to spill. “If I stay with them, she’s going to use it against Aiden.”
“The hell do you mean ‘if I stay’? You aren’t thinking of leaving, are you?”
“I—” I swallow thickly, feeling a single trickle over my cheek. “I can’t be the thing that ruins things for them. I don’t—” I suck in a breath, trying to choke back a sob. “I don’t want to be someone’s burden. Not again.”
Wanda is quiet, watching as I hang my head and wipe my eyes. So many emotions are hitting me all at once, and I feel even shittier sitting here whining about my problems when Wanda just lived through a damned heart attack. She waits for me to calm down, waits for the sniffling to stop as I stare at my knees.
“You done?”
I shrug noncommittally, wiping my nose. “I guess.”
“How many times have I told you that not everyone is like your parents? I’m pretty sure those two were actually assembled in some kinda angry dick factory. It was never your fault.”
“Wasn’t it? They never wanted me. All I ever did was cause problems for them. They haven’t called me once, Wanda. Not once in seven years. They were ecstatic to see me go. How can that not be my fault?”
“Because they’re shitty, selfish people. Your parents shouldn’t have been parents. Especially to someone as special as you. They were bitter people with bitter lives who turned up their noses at a beautiful gift instead of appreciating it.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“You think running away is going to solve things? It won’t stop that lady from hounding that family. Stubborn doesn’t quit at a roadblock, Cassie. It finds another damned road.”
“I’m sorry,” I say pitifully. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here complaining after the night you had.”
“My only other option would be some grainy-ass soap opera,” she says, waving me off.
“Still.”
“Don’t shoot yourself in the foot, honey. You can have good things, but you have to let yourself have them.”
What she’s saying sounds reasonable, or rather, it would, to a more reasonable person. I don’t feel very reasonable right now. I feel angry and sad and mostly just . . . beat. Like I’m trapped in a corner with only one way out, but the way out is paved with rusty railroad spikes.
I wipe my eyes again for good measure as I hear the door to her room opening, some chipper nurse stepping inside to greet us both as she gushes over Wanda being awake. The nurse mentions something about vitals and tests, and even though Wanda doesn’t say it, I can hear the dismissal in her voice.
“I’ll come back later,” I tell Wanda. “Don’t be mean to the nurses.”
Wanda rolls her eyes. “Haven’t bit one yet, at least.”
If I didn’t feel like shit, I would laugh at the look the nurse gives her.
“You remember what I said,” Wanda reminds me. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
I nod, but even as I do it, I know it’s a lie. I walk out of Wanda’s room with a heavy weight on my shoulders, begging my eyes to keep the tears in until I can find a quiet spot outside to host a pity party before I try to flag down a cab. Because I can’t be the thing that stands between Aiden and Sophie. I won’t allow that to happen. No matter how much I . . . care about them. Both of them.
They’ll be better off if I do it now, before we get too deep. Before we reach some point that we can’t turn back from. Before Aiden realizes that I was never worth it in the first place. I can’t say whether or not the decision I’ve come to is stupid, but . . . I know it’s going to hurt like hell.
—◊—
I’ve never been so nervous in my entire life. I’ve been waiting for this day for weeks, ever since we decided to meet in person. It’s ridiculous that I would be so terrified of a date at my age, and yet I’ve checked my hair three times, I’ve changed my outfit at least five.
My hands itch to touch her, and I’m desperate to hear her voice, hear her for real.
And today I finally can.
I check my appearance one more time in the hall mirror, jolting when my phone ringing from the kitchen counter distracts me. I frown when I notice who’s calling—there’s absolutely no reason for Rebecca’s sister to be calling me.
Dread settles into my stomach. Could something be wrong with Sophie?
I answer the call, bringing it to my ear with bated breath. “Iris?”
—◊—
