Page 116 of Counting On You

“Did you ever try to find them? Your biological parents, I mean?” her voice is choked, afraid to ask.

I shake my head. “No, and I never will. They abandoned me. They don’t deserve to have me in their lives. The way I see it, they’re not worth meeting. I’m not sure how I’d feel about seeing them, clouding my memories, letting them in. Too many years have passed. What happened can’t ever be changed. They’re strangers and I want them to stay that way.” I pause to choose my words carefully. “That my biological parents gave me away hurt me for a long time, but it was nothing compared to the pain I felt when I lost my adoptive parents. They’re the ones I’m still grieving, because they were the parents I thought I’d never have. They raised me as if I were their own. To me, people like them are more of a parent than some name on a birth certificate.”

“What happened to them?”

I sit up to ease the tightening sensation inside my chest.

The night sky is breaking to make room for dawn—just like when my mom slipped away.

“My father got targeted by some guy. He lost his business, all of his money. Over the span of a few weeks, we lost everything he had fought for over the course of thirty years. And then my mom became ill. He couldn’t afford to get her the best treatment. He was so desperate that he killed himself so she could claim his insurance policy and we wouldn’t end up homeless. His death hit my mom hard. She died a few weeks later. Any form of treatment would have come too late anyway.” I close my eyes, the memory hitting like little sharp spikes piercing every part of my body. “I still miss them. At least I’m close to my brother. He’s the reason I’m here. I gave in to the board’s demands because of him.”

“I’m sorry,” Vicky whispers. I open my eyes to take in the pained expression on her face. Probably for the first time in my life, those words aren’t meaningless. She truly feels them. “I’m sorry,” she repeats. “I feel so stupid talking about my father when you…I don’t even know what to say.”

Under different circumstances, I’d feel uncomfortable with people’s pity. But Vicky looks at me like I’m part of her soul. What she feels doesn’t look like pity; it is compassion.

Tears are shimmering in her eyes. I lean to wipe them away and realize just how much I love the kind of person she is. Her kindness is probably the reason why she feels the need to take care of everyone but herself. It’s probably also the reason why she gets attached so easily.

“It took me years to get over it. For a long time, I could only feel anger for the people responsible for my father’s business going bust. I wanted revenge and I got it, but along the way I realized as sweet as revenge might be, it doesn’t bring back the people you love.” I cock my head to the side as it dawns on me that I’ve never opened up to anyone the way I seem to open up to Vicky. I also realized that it feels good, as though after such a long time I’ve finally found the right person to open up to. “You know what’s the strange part? My brother, Chase, married the woman whose stepfather ruined our parents.”

“You can’t be serious,” Vicky says.

“I tried to hate her, but she’s not her stepfather’s sin. She thinks he killed her mother.”

“Did he?”

I take a deep breath and hold it for a moment as I consider my words. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll never know the truth. All I know is that my brother loves her very much and I’m fine with it.”

Vicky squeezes my hand, and I smile at her. In the soft light, she looks like an angel.

“Love does strange things to you,” I say softly. “I’ve never seen Chase happier. It all goes to show that you can’t choose love. Love chooses you. You don’t have to seek it. It comes to you.” I brush a finger over Vicky’s cheek. “Speaking of relationships, have you decided what you’re going to do about Bruce?”

“Bruce.” She draws out the word and grimaces.

“You’ll have to make a decision soon, Vicky. He won’t be in your life forever. The sooner you get him out of your head, the better.”

She casts her glance down. I sense something, but I can’t tell what she’s thinking, feeling. Eventually, she gets up and moves a few steps away from me, leaning her back against the wall.

“Did I say something wrong?” I want to close the distance between us, draw her in my arms and tell her that everything’s going to be okay. But this is her fight. I can’t force her to get rid of a pattern that’s not good for her.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you,” Vicky says slowly. “You’re right. He isn’t going to stay in my life for long. Not single, anyway. He’s marrying his ex this summer.”

Oh, fuck!

I stand and reach her in two long strides. My fingers itch to touch her, to give her the comfort she needs, but I hold back. The fragments of her soul seem too fragile to touch. Only she can hold together what can be so easily broken.

“When did you find out?” I ask.

“My sister told me when she came to see me. She brought a letter from Bruce. Like the coward he is, he broke up in writing. Couldn’t even tell me in person.”

“Vicky.” She doesn’t look at me as I place my hand on her shoulder, gently forcing her to look at me. Her face is a mosaic of emotions. But there are no tears. No pain.

I frown, unsure what to make of it.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

She shrugs. “I didn’t want you to think that I’m damaged material.”

“I would never think that of you. I never have.” Every muscle in my body is tense. I want to punch this guy, kick the shit out of him, for hurting her. As soon as I’m out of this place I’ll make sure he gets to walk down the aisle painted in purple and blue.

---