Page 53 of Duress
“Hey, sorry I’ve been MIA, but your son was a piece of shit, and I didn’t know how to act around his grieving mother.”
“I’d say I’m sorry but…”
Instead, when the barista calls my name, I take the escape route offered and turn away from her to grab my latte, praying she isn’t about to announce to the crowded coffee shop that I’m the callous monster who killed her son and doesn’t even have the decency to apologize for it. When I turn back around, she’s still there, between me and the exit, looking sad. Tired. Broken. But not angry. There isn’t a hint of anger in her expression.
“Can we talk, Everly?” Her question is hesitant, like she’s fully expecting me to tell her no. To continue to ignore her pain and sorrow so I can avoid the tsunami of guilt I should feel for killing her child.
I inhale a fortifying breath, girding myself for the conversation I don’t think I’m ready to have. That I’ll never be ready to have. “Sure, Caroline.” I nod and force my face into an expression that I hope resembles something sincere and empathetic, not the pained grimace it feels like.
She leads us to a table for two in a small alcove hidden by shelves full of books and plants. Brewed Awakening’s mismatched, eclectic style creates lots of little nooks and privacy for their patrons so they can work in peace during busy hours. Right now I’m grateful we won’t have an audience for what is about to be the hardest conversation I’ve ever been forced to have. We sit, silence stretchingbetween us for what seems an eternity. I stare down at the paper cup in my hands, focusing on the little sticker featuring a cartoon fox drinking a coffee that covers the opening of the lid. I feel the tell-tale burn of tears threatening and I close my eyes in a futile attempt to fight them off. If anyone deserves to cry right now, it’s Caroline, not me.
Soft, warm fingers wrap around mine, prying them away from the death grip they have on the paper cup that is perilously close to being crushed and spilling hot chai everywhere. “Dane told me what happened. I’m so sorry, Everly.”
My head snaps up at her words, bewildered by her apology.
“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who should be sorry, Caroline?—”
“I’m sorry for who Bryce turned out to be. I tried so hard to raise him to be a good man but he still turned into his father.” Now I see the tears shining in her eyes, shame written all over her face, like somehow this was all her fault. That she was a failure as a mother. Knowing how Dane turned out, I know nothing could be further from the truth.
“Caroline.” I want to say something, to tell her it isn’t her fault, but she shakes her head, cutting me off again.
“Brian used to cheat on me. He traveled for work a lot and had mistresses in multiple cities. When I found out, he apologized and begged me to stay. I did, because we had Bryce. I was young, only worked part-time, and was scared of supporting the two of us on my own.”
My heart cracks at Caroline’s confession, knowing exactly how cold and alone she must have felt then.
“Things were okay for a while, but eventually I discovered another affair. When I tried to leave with Bryce, Brian called in a favor with some buddies in the PD and had me arrested for parental abduction. He threatened to take Bryce away from me if I ever tried to leave him. Brian had a lot of powerful friends in the right places in town, and I knew he could carry out his threat.”
There is a damp heat on my cheeks, and I realize I’m crying. Not for myself or my shame, but for Caroline and the misery she must have endured, being trapped in a marriage like that. I only knew a fraction of the suffering she must have felt being trappedwitha child.
“Then Jake came along and…things got better.” A small smile ghosts her lips for the briefest of moments. “We fell in love. Dane came along. Brian left.” I can see the shadow of happier memories flicker across her face. I know she’s leaving a lot out, but I won’t push her for the more painful details.
“Bryce had a hard time with his father leaving. Brian just abandoned us when he found out Dane wasn’t his. I tried so hard to be everything Bryce would ever need. Mother and father. Jake did his best to treat Bryce as his own, but the wall was erected the moment Brian left without so much as a goodbye to us. To him, Dane was born, Jake showed up, and he didn’t have a dad any longer. He was twelve years old. An awful time for a boy to lose a parent.”
My lower lip trembles, my heart breaking for the boyBryce used to be. Knowing the full truth behind his childhood and dislike for Dane and Jake finally makes everything click into place. I feel the mental picture I have of him morph and shift like one of those terrible before and after plastic surgery transitions and realize just how long he was manipulating me. My blood runs cold, causing goose bumps to erupt over my skin. Was any of it true? Did he ever love me? He acted like his mom cheated on his dad, causing him to lose his loving and doting father. The news of his dad being an abusive manipulator rocks me to my core. Did he know? Surely he remembered his mom getting arrested? Did he know and still make Jake and Caroline out to be the guilty party?
“I had no idea, Caroline. I knew Bryce had a strained relationship with Jake, but he always implied it was because of the affair you had.”
Caroline nods, like she expected my response. “I never told Bryce how his father treated me. We pretended to be a happy family for a while after the arrest. I took all the blame for that; maybe that was my mistake. Not letting Bryce know the truth about what kind of man his father was.”
This time I grab her hand and squeeze. “No, you were trying to protect your boy. You were doing what you thought was best.”
“I’m heartbroken that things ended for Bryce the way they did. I tried so hard to love him enough, to love the hurt and anger and abandonment away, but there was something broken in him that couldn’t be fixed. I’m so, so sad for the boy I raised. I just want you to know, I don’tblame you. Please don’t blame yourself. I’m doing my best to do the same. My therapist has been helping me work through it. It’s been rough, but…it’s helping. If…if you need someone to talk to, you should call them.” She pulls a business card out of her purse and pushes it into my hand.
My lips press together in a thin line as I bite back the urge to full on sob now. “I need to go, I’m going to be late for my appointment with Dr. Perkins. Everly, please take care of yourself. I still consider you my daughter.” She gives my hand one final squeeze and vacates the table, leaving me to process this emotional tsunami building in me in private.
CHAPTER 49
EVERLY
6 MONTHS LATER
“Knock, knock.” A soft rapping at my door announces Serena’s presence as she pokes her head into my new office in the creative wing of Whispering Grove’s main building. “You ready to go? I had a hell of a day, and I need a glass of wine.” Serena leans against the door frame, arms crossed, a furrow creasing her brow—a subtle indication of the kind of day she’s had.
“Sure, rough day?” I ask, as I grab my purse and slip on my favorite faded denim jacket to ward off the chill of the spring evening as I follow Serena out to our cars. My wardrobe has become considerably more casual since being on my own. Bethany doesn’t mind what I wear to work, knowing I’ll wind up covered in paint or clay during the day. The feeling of finally doing what I love, what I studied for, while helping others, has honestly been thebiggest piece of the puzzle in figuring out who Everly Carmichael is now.
I’ve been in my new position for almost three months now, and Serena and I have had a standing weekly girls’ date since I started working here. She comes to visit her mom on Wednesdays, then stops by my office when she’s done. We then usually go to a cute little bistro down the street that specializes in wine and cheese plates for a “girl dinner” and catch up.
I haven’t been coming to game nights—I’m still trying to limit the amount of time I am around Dane while I am getting my shit figured out—but Serena refused to let me push her away. She still invites me to game night every week, even though I always come up with an excuse to skip it. She knows I’m not ready to be around Dane, so she doesn’t push, but her invitations are a constant reminder that he’s still there. Still waiting for me.
