Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Aiden never did because his mom was like a cockroach, crawling out of the woodwork to cause problems for him at every turn. He needs closure.
Neither of us will ever be alone again.
We have each other.
And we also have Emma and the family Aiden has found with his teammates.
Found family.
People who love us despite our downfalls. People who support us without wanting a thing from either of us.
Together, with their help, we are healing the internal wounds we’ve been harboring all these years. Those wounds caused by the people who were supposed to love us. Support and protect us.
Both Aiden and I are in therapy. Not together, but we both want to be the best versions of ourselves. It’s helping. Every day, I come to terms with my past.
Knowing I didn’t kill Ace has helped, but I still have many demons I need to conquer.
So does Aiden.
The abuse we both endured won’t kill us. Instead, we will harness it and grow from it.
“Almost there,” he says from beside me. “You ready?”
I look out the window at the passing scenery. So familiar, yet different.
Changed.
Like me.
“I am.”
It’s not five minutes later, when Aiden’s Jeep is pulling up to his old trailer and parking. I sit for a few minutes, working on my breathing. I need to gather all the strength to confront the place that has held so much power over me.
Aiden holds out his hand, and I place mine in his. He lifts it to his mouth and places a kiss on top.
“I’ve got you, Cass. You aren’t alone.”
I smile at him, nodding. “And neither are you.”
We make our exit, walking around the car to grasp hands. It’s support. Comfort. A pact that we do this together.
Turning toward my old trailer, I see a little girl sitting on the step. Her head is turned down, hands covering her eyes. A pang of sadness hits me in the chest. She reminds me of me a long time ago. When I would sit and wait, hoping Aiden would find his way home.
I want to go to her. To tell her everything will be okay. To help her find her strength. But then her head lifts and her hands drop. “Ready or not, here I come,” she yells out, followed by a giggle.
She’s happy.
Playing.
She’s not me.
As she runs off, laughter bubbling through her mouth, my shoulders drop in relief. A smile spreads across my face. Pure joy is all I saw on that little girl’s face, and it does something for me. Heals a part of the broken little girl who still lives within me.
“Where’s your stuff?” Aiden asks, walking up to me with the urn he pulled from the back seat.
“Shoot. Let me grab it.” I turn back toward the car, making my way to the door. I lean down and grab the small box that now holds my past.
Shutting the door behind me a little harder than necessary, I head toward Aiden, who’s watching the kids, a smile on his face.
“Let’s do this,” I say, bumping his hip with mine.
Together, side by side, we walk to the lake. A place he once loved. A place that became my hell.
It looks different from when I was last here.
The trees are full of leaves. The sunlight gleams off the water. It’s peaceful and serene.
It’s not the stuff of nightmares. Me surrounded by gray as far as the eye can see. A dead body floating in the murky lake.
I see the lake through fresh eyes. It’s beautiful.
My sight’s no longer burdened by guilt and fear.
Aiden moves toward the lake, standing where the dirt and water meet. He’s as close as he can be without getting wet, staring forward, lost in thought. I’m about to ask him what he’s thinking when he speaks.
“I forgive you,” he practically whispers into the air. To his mother. “I forgive you, and I’m ready to move on.”
He removes the lid and tips the urn forward, pouring the contents into the water. “Be free, Mom. Let the things that plagued you here on earth go. I know I will now. Finally.”
He puts the lid back on and steps away, glancing at me.
“My turn?”
“Your turn,” Aiden agrees. He reaches into his pocket with his free hand and pulls out the lighter. “You sure you want to do this?”
“There are no good memories in these. Everything I need to remember is right here.” I tap my head with my finger. “I’m ready to be free too.” I smile up at him, his blue eyes softer than they have been for as long as I’ve known him.
He hands over the lighter, and I take it happily. With the cold metal in my hand, I pull out the letters I wrote Aiden one by one, setting each on fire. I watch them burn, and once the flame licks my fingertips, I drop the remaining remnants onto the ground, allowing them to continue to burn until they’re ashes, ready to be swept off with the current.