Kale nodded. “He was everything.”
“Little angel,” I whispered and stroked my pinkie over the picture of Kaden’s beautiful little face.
Kale watched me meeting his son, with joy.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” I said softly as I scrolled through the pictures and watched videos of Kaden at various stages through his short life.
Kale was silent for a long time, but he eventually said, “You were with me; just not in person.”
I looked up from his phone and found him watching me. He backed against the wall and had his hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans. He seemed to be positioned that way a lot whenever he was in my presence. “Why didn’t you want me here?” I asked, curious. “You told Harry not to tell me about Kaden’s death. Why? I would have come home. I swear I would have.”
He walked back over to me and kneeled before me, placing his hands on my thighs, sending my stomach into cartwheels. “I know you would have come home,” he said firmly. “Trust me, Lane, God himself wouldn’t have kept you away – and sweetheart, I know that.”
I blinked. “Then why didn’t you want me here?”
“Because,” he began, “you would have dropped everything for me. I didn’t want to hurt you again because I knew deep down I would have been using you to mask the pain over losing Kaden, and you didn’t deserve that. I didn’t want to take advantage of your feelings for me, and I probably would have to make myself feel better at the time.”
I solemnly nodded. “I understand.”
“Do you?” Kale prompted. “Do you understand how much it hurt that I needed you, but I couldn’t have you?”
“Yeah, Kale, I understand exactly how much that hurts.”
He stared at me, his eyes swimming with different emotions. “I’m so sorry for hurting you,” he whispered.
I smiled and said lightly, “I hurt myself, Kale – you did nothing wrong.”
“But I did,” he pressed. “I could have gone after you and brought you home.”
“That wouldn’t have changed a thing, and you know it.”
He frowned and stood up, moving back across the room, where he began to pack my suitcase again. He was silent for a minute or two, and then he said, “I know, but sometimes I wish it could have been that simple.”
“Me too, pup.” I swallowed. “Me too.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Seven years ago (nineteen years old)
Lane?” Lavender’s voice called through my bedroom door. “Are you alive in there?”
I groaned into my pillow as her voice wreaked havoc on my throbbing head.
“Stop screaming at me,” I rasped.
I heard Lavender’s chuckle as the door creaked open. It had been fixed years ago, but the squeaking noise never left after my father kicked the door in.
“I suppose asking how you’re feeling would be a stupid question?”
I grunted, my eyes still closed. “It’d be a really stupid question.”
I heard Lavender giggle as she crossed my room, her feet pattering across the floorboards. I momentarily wondered what she was doing, so I lazily lifted my eyelids, but I quickly squeezed both eyes shut when blinding light wreaked turmoil on my retinas.
“Bloody hell, Lav,” I whimpered, and pulling my pillow from behind my head, I plunged it over my face, coaxing my senses back into darkness.
“If it makes you feel any better,” she snickered, “you pulled one of the hottest lads I have ever seen last night, even if he is a bit weird.”
Though I didn’t forgive her morning wake-up call, I had to agree with her conclusion about last night’s escapades.
I smirked into my pillow. “He was a bit of all right, I guess.”
I chose to overlook the part about him being weird, because I couldn’t remember that much of what had happened to comment on it.
“You’re so full of it.” Lavender laughed as she climbed onto the end of my bed.
I smiled and slowly lifted my pillow from my face, wincing at the sunlight that filled my room. After a few moments of adjusting, my vision cleared and I stretched out my limbs.
“Did you wear protection?” Lavender asked, her tone very motherly.
I lifted my head and looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Don’t I always?”
She dead-panned, “Your reply makes you sound like a slut.”
I devilishly grinned. “I’ve slept with ten different lads over the last year and a half. I think that does make me a slut.”
“Hardly,” Lavender scoffed. “We both know you only get drunk and lost in the closest body because you feel rejected and hurt over Kale . . . still.”
My chest ached and my stomach lurched at the mention of his name.
“Not now, Lav,” I groaned, lying back down. “I’m too hung over for this conversation.”
“Tough,” my so-called friend chirped as she whacked both of my feet with her hands. “I’m getting fed up saying this to you, but here I go again. No matter how many people you have sex with, it will never erase your night with Kale. You can’t replace the person you want for life with the person you want for a night.”
I growled at Lavender.
“I’m nineteen and in university,” I argued. “Wasn’t it you who told me to play the field?”
“Play the field? Yes,” Lavender agreed, then narrowed her eyes. “Fuck every man in sight? No.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Give over. It’s not funny and you know it’s not,” she grumbled. “You don’t want to be that girl, do you? The woman who degrades herself with meaningless hook-ups and loses herself because she is sad?”
I hated when she got deep like this, especially when I felt like shit.
I blinked. “I’m not sad.”
“Babe,” – she frowned – “yeah, you are.”
I looked up at my ceiling and grunted, “I knew I shouldn’t have come home this weekend.”
Lavender snorted. “We go to the same university and share an apartment. You can’t escape me.”
That was the sickening truth.
We both attended the University of York and lived in a student apartment close to campus. I studied English, and Lavender studied English in Education. After I got my Bachelor of Arts degree, I wanted to be a literary editor, and Lavender wanted to teach children. Her term was like mine, three years long, and she needed a Bachelor of Education degree to take the first step towards her dream job, and I was happy to take my steps right alongside her. We were in our first year of college life and loving every second of it.
I rolled my eyes at her. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Lavender grinned. “Okay, Kale and your brothers are downstairs.”
I shot upright and quickly reached for my head when the room spun slightly. I closed my eyes, counted to ten and when I was sure I wasn’t going to vomit or pass out, I opened my eyes and narrowed them to slits.
“You lie!” I rumbled.
Lavender held up both of her hands in front of her chest. “I’m not – they’re downstairs eating. They didn’t know you would be home this weekend either.”
This couldn’t be happening.
“I can’t deal with my brothers when I’m hung over, and I can’t see Kale, knowing what I did last night with some stranger.”
Lavender raised a brow. “Why? I thought you didn’t care about him like that anymore.”
I gritted my teeth. “I don’t.”
“Come downstairs and prove it then,” she challenged.
I hated her.
“Fine,” I bit out, and shoved my duvet covers from my body.
Lavender made a show of covering her eyes. “I’m your best friend and room-mate, but I don’t need to see that bloody much of you.”
I looked down and saw that my bedtime crop top revealed one of my boobs, and my underwear had given me a wedgie. I adjusted my top and underwear, then laughed as I got to my feet. I got clean underwear from my chest of drawers, a pair of comfortable trousers and a plain bra and black tank top. I went into the bathroom and had a quick cloth wash before putting the fresh clothes on.
I washed my face clear of last night’s make-up, tied my hair up in a loose bun on top of my head and put my glasses on. I walked downstairs, letting Lavender lead the way.
“Did you wake her, Lavender?” Layton’s voice called out as she walked into the kitchen.
“Barely,” Lavender snorted. “I think she’s still drunk.”
“Great,” Lochlan grumbled, making me grin.
I walked into the kitchen and cleared my throat.
“There she is,” Kale announced, beaming as he stood up from his chair.
I groaned and placed a hand on my head.
“Not so loud,” I moaned.
He grinned as he approached me.
“Sorry,” he whispered before folding his arms around me, pulling me tightly against his warm body.
I missed hugging him, and I hated that.
“’S’okay,” I murmured.
Kale released me and returned to his seat while my mother gave me her usual morning hug and kiss on the cheek. She did this often when I was younger, but now that I was away at college, she made sure to do it every time I was home and came down for breakfast.
“I heard you getting sick this morning,” she said, frowning. “How much did you drink last night?”
Uh.
“Yeah, little sister,” Lochlan asked, “how much did you drink last night?”
I looked over at his grinning face and glared before I turned back to our mother.
“Not much. I just did too much dancing, I guess, and it made me sick.”
Lavender snorted, and my palm itched to smack her.
“What time did you get in?” my mother asked as I moved to the kitchen table and sat on the only seat available, between Lavender and Kale. “I didn’t look at the clock when I heard you in the bathroom.”