Page 128 of Habits

It feels like the temperature has suddenly dropped drastically in the car, white puffs of air coming out of our mouths as we breathe.

“Why visit her now then? You resent her so much, blame her for leaving you and fucking up your life, so why now?”

“I want to know why. Why did she leave? Why did she never look back? Did I …” I shake my head, dismissing the last question. “It doesn’t matter. I came to get my answers so I can move the fuck on and forget about her.”

Max opens his mouth, most likely to say something that should make me feel better. Reassure me that it’s not my fault. But what if it is? What if she left because I’m so fucking unlovable?

“I’ll be right back.”

I open the door with force and let it close behind me. With long steps, I stride toward the front door, not once looking back. If I look back, I’ll never find it in me to finish what I started.

As soon as I climb the few stairs to the front porch, I press the doorbell and wait as it rings inside the house. Even through the closed door, I can hear the sound of the TV playing somewhere in the house.

Inhaling deeply to calm my raging nerves, I will my fingers to relax. The palms of my hands are sweaty, so I rub them against my thighs.

The phone rings somewhere and pans clatter before I hear a low, “I’ll get it”.

Shifting my weight from one leg to the other, I contemplate running away. If I put real force behind it, I could probably get to the car before she opens the door. It’s not that far. That way she’ll never know I was here. She’ll never …

The lock turns in the doorknob and the door opens suddenly.

“How can I …”

The words get stuck in her throat as her gaze lifts to look at my face.

For a moment, or maybe it’s an eternity, we look at each other. She looks the same, yet she doesn’t. She’s older, but it doesn’t take away any of her natural beauty. Her rich brown hair is pulled in a high ponytail, just a few runaway strands curling around her ears. There are wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Wrinkles that tell the story of her life and maturity. Dark eyelashes stand out on her otherwise make-up free face, accentuating her green-blue eyes.

“Andrew …” She looks at me with shock and surprise written all over her features. Her lips are parted in a slight O, her eyes wide.

“Cassandra.”

“What …” Tears gather in her eyes, and she outstretches her hand as if she wants to touch me, but I take a step back. There is no way in hell I’ll let her touch me. Realizing her mistake, she pulls back, letting her hand fall. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m not going to bother you for long, so don’t worry.”

“I’d never …”

“Let’s cut the drama, shall we?” I can see the hurt flash in her eyes, but I don’t have it in me to care. Did she care when she left me ten years ago? Did she have tears in her eyes and her heart broken? I think we both know the answers to those questions. “I just need you to answer one question, one question only, so I can finally move on with my life in peace.”

“Okay.” Her throat bobbles as she swallows, brushing away her tears. “What do you want to know?”

“Why?” I look her straight in the eyes. I need to know that what she’s telling me is the truth. My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. “Why did you leave and never look back?”

Why did you leaveme? Why wasn’t I enough?

Why? Why?Why?

Her eyes soften as they look at me. It’s like even though I haven’t outright asked her, she still knows the real question hiding behind it. Like she can read it from my eyes alone.

I blink, breaking our connection and regaining some of my composure.

“My leaving had nothing to do with you. Ever. You have to believe me …”

I laugh in her face like the asshole I am. The asshole she made me. “I’m sorry if it takes me a while to believe that.”

“It’s the truth.” She takes a step forward but doesn’t reach out to touch me. “It was always about me. Your father and I … we were never happy. All he ever wanted was a son and a career.”

“Of course.” This time I can’t help but roll my eyes at her. What a bunch of bullshit. “If my father was so interested in having a son, why did he stop coming around the moment you left the house? Both of you are the same. Self-centered bastards who only think about themselves.”

---