Page 53 of Roman and the Hopeless Romantic
Cassie
“It’s time to push the event into your past.”
“I don’t want to forget.”
“This isn’t about forgetting,” Cassie whispered to herself as she stood on the back patio staring down into the very past she needed to move on from.
The light at the back of the house illuminated the darkness. The yellow glow danced around the shadows of the furniture her mom picked out.
Cassie could still hear her mom’s scream the day she lost her life every time she eyed it. She hadn’t sat in the furniture. In fact, they rarely used the porch at all, but she’d kept it as an outlet for her anger, something to blame.
It was silly because inanimate objects like couches and tables couldn’t cause so much pain.
No, that was the gunman. He’d not only taken her mother from her, but also her sense of safety and peace of mind.
He’d stolen her life.
She used to wish she’d been the one killed instead of her mom. Her mom had so much more to offer the world. But now, she wanted to be the one with something to offer, and she needed to overcome her demons.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the fake wicker weaving. The intricate design was the reason her mom fell in love with it.
The back door opened, and she looked up to find her dad watching her. “Thought you’d be watching Jesse’s game.”
She shook her head. “I’ve been out here for a while.”
He stepped outside and shut the door to block out the sounds of whatever TV show the twins were watching.
Her dad stopped at her side, not taking his eyes from the same couch that held her gaze.
“Dad?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you ever wonder if we’ll get past this?”
They’d never spoken of their grief, but they’d always had a silent understanding between each other.
He put a hand on her shoulder. “I’d like to think we will.”
“I don’t want to be like this anymore.” Tears built in her eyes. A single drop broke free and tracked down her cheek.
He slid his hand over her shoulders until he’d draped his entire arm across them. The affection was an unusual occurrence from him—at least, since her mom died.
“I think we need to get rid of the furniture.”
He stiffened, breathing deeply. “Cass—”
It wasn’t only because of the assignment Annie gave her. “Dad, during the storm last weekend when we lost power, I ran outside to pull it in. The wind was so strong it was hard to walk. Rain pounded down on me, but I didn’t care. And then the alligator… I shouldn’t have run into a storm, but it was like I couldn’t stop myself. That’s not right.”
“Honey, I had no idea.”
“Nothing should have this much power over us.”
He rested his cheek on her head. “If anything happened to you… yes, you’re probably right. It’s time. I don’t want you living with a constant reminder.”
“You shouldn’t have to either, Dad. We both deserve to heal.”
And that was the crux of the matter. Deserve. What did they deserve? She’d spent so much time wondering why she was still alive, thinking her mom was more worthy than her. But maybe that wasn’t true. No one deserved to die, but everyone deserved to live.
