Page 275 of Unexpected Heroine

“It obviously hurt you to maintain the lie. I’m well aware how much it weighed on you. And I believe you love me. You’ve shown me in all the other ways.” My chest quivers when I attempt to inhale. “How does someone protect and love me the way you do but still lie about his name for so long? Make it make sense.” I swallow roughly, barely able to work the lump down my throat. “Please.”

“Your boss said,” I crick my neck to the side and amend, “my father said you never do things without a reason. Hell, you’ve told me that before about yourself. There must be a reason. Start at the beginning. The first day we met.”

I don’t realize I’m crying until teardrops cascade onto my thighs.

He reaches for my face, gently wiping away the moisture. “On the day you met me, I had no intention of becoming a part of your life. So my name was inconsequential. All I wanted was to help you out of a rough spot. You were Redleg family, whether anyone knew it but me. And you needed help. You were so damn sad and hungry. I couldn’t stand?—”

Recapturing both his hands, I interrupt when his words jog my memory. “Just remembered something. On the day we broke up, you said you were hungry a lot. For most of your life. Something like that. What did you mean?”

His chin quivers. The anguish in his eyes screams how he doesn’t want to tell me that answer. This topic, like many others, has been hidden behind a brick wall for so long.

Miraculously, he finds the strength to batter through his longstanding wall of secrecy. “Remember me saying my mom died when I was a little boy?”

I nod, continuing to rub his hands with my thumbs. With all my heart, I inject every bit of love and support I have for him through my fingertips, in hopes it soaks through his skin and finds his veins.

“After she died, my father was... he didn’t...” He presses his lips together and faces the side of the room.

I pulse his hand tighter. “It’s okay. You can tell me anything. Take your time.”

If this is going where I think it’s going, I might vomit. Again.

“He didn’t take good care of me.” Eyes still closed, he shakes his head in tiny wobbles. “Correction. He didn’t care for me at all. He rarely fed me. I was left alone. A lot. Not just for hours, but days sometimes. A random stranger might come over and toss a bag of McDonald’s at me. Sometimes there were waffles in the freezer. I didn’t know how to cook them, so I ate them cold. Sometimes crackers or chips were left lying around. So I was alone and hungry. All the time.”

My tears fall in earnest now, streaming down my cheeks in a constant flow.

“Don’t cry, sugar. Don’t cry for me,” he whispers across my forehead before kissing it tenderly.

“I will cry for you. I’ll cry my damn eyes out for you because I love you, and I hate that you were treated with such cruelty. How could he do that to a little boy? It’s just... unimaginable. You didn’t deserve that. No child does.”

He shrugs, as if he doesn’t believe he was undeserving of such treatment. “I sat alone in that room. In that old, dirty house. A mattress on the floor. Ragged clothes. Barely any toys. Freezing and shivering in the winter. Lying in a pool of sweat in the summer. And I waited. But I had no idea what I was waiting for. I only knew that when he came home, it would probably be bad. It would be... really bad. You understand what I’m saying, sugar bear?”

“Yes.” I sniffle, breath hiccupping around a sob. “Yes. I do.”

He wasn’t only neglected but beaten too. I won’t make him say it. His eyes convey as much, let alone the agony lacing his tone.

“Well, yeah. That’s what I meant. I know hunger more than most people, and I couldn’t stand to see you suffer.”

There’s something so familiar in his words and the feeling they evoke. His description... I can see it. Feel it. Viscerally.

Almost as if I lived it alongside him. Only that’s crazy because I had a good childhood. One with a full belly and someone there to tuck me in at night. Friends, toys, and love. Sometimes misguided love, but love nonetheless.

So why does it feel so familiar?

Before I’m able to put a fine enough point on the sensation, he recaptures my wayward thoughts. “Once you knew me as James, my best course was to stay away. Otherwise, I’d have to reveal my name. Doing so might bring you closer to finding out about Big Al. So I kept my name a secret, along with where I worked. Nothing to tie me to your father or make it so you two might cross paths. I despised the lie, Lettie. It ate away at me. That’s why I fucking tried so damn hard to remove myself from your life.”

“I thought you didn’t want me or felt I was too young. A million other reasons. I didn’t know you were trying to protect me from a lie.”

A sad smile glides over his features. “Attempting to stay away from you was pointless. I was already addicted. Your smile, your voice, your chaos. You drew me in, and I-I needed more. You were the sun. Everything in my life was cold and dark, and it always has been. All I wanted was to bask in your warmth and light. Just another day, I told myself. Another hour in the sun, and then I’ll go.” His throat bobs with a forced swallow. “Lettie, it was never enough. It never will be.”

The way he sees me is... beautiful and tragic. As much as I love being that for him, it’s equally devastating to realize I was the only one who drew him out of the darkness. To never know the light, spending thirty-six years alone, not experiencing love. And you finally find someone who shines for you, yet you can’t be your true self with them. Living a lie of your own making.

A tragedy.

Profound as this is, it doesn’t answer my initial question of why.

Letting go of his hands, I crawl onto his lap. I can’t stand the space between us. He wraps his arms around me, tucking me tight to his chest.

I run the back of my hand along the side of his face, scratching over his scruff. “You want to know what I think?”

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