Page 68 of Secrets That Bind Us
Her head snaps to me and her eyes narrow. “How dare you?”
I scoff, feeling the turmoil inside me increase sevenfold.“How dare I?” She can’t be fucking serious. “You can’t be fucking serious. I fell for you, Verity.That’show I dare. I fell for you in no way another man has ever fallenfor another woman. I fell for you so hard I didn’t just hit the ground and bruise my knees,baby. I scraped through each layer of skin and muscle until bone was showing. And that’s where you stayed. In the very marrow of my fuckin’ bones. In my tendons, muscles, and every blood vessel in my body. And I know this because every single beat of my heart has been yours since I won that race for you in second grade and you weremygirlfriend for three blessed weeks.
“You think I don’t know I’m insane?” I tap my finger to my temple. “You think I don’t know howcrazyit is that I got latched on to the girl with pigtails at eight years old? And then you left without looking back. Fuck me, Verity, if you didn’t want me to fall for you the way I did, you never should’ve let me kiss you that first time.”
“I told you I wasn’t going to come back!”
“I thought I was the exception!”My voice cracks and I sit up straighter, only to bow my head before peering back at her. I take a deep breath and let it go. “I thought I was the exception.”
She stiffens and squares her shoulders on the defense, but I ain’t the one. “We were sixteen and you were helping me.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, cut the fucking shit. We were sixteen and I already knew you belonged to me, Ver. I knew it then, I know it now, and it will never not be, baby.”
“Why didn’t you let me go? Why didn’t you find someone else? Every woman in this godforsaken town is some degree of in love with you. You could’ve lived a full life and left me behind, too. You had every single chance to get away from this hellhole, and you didn’t.”
I slam my fists down on the table, swearing I can hear the table crack beneath my fists. “Because we’re end game!” I gesture between us. “Because there wasalwaysthat possibility that you were coming back to me, and I didn’t want to be tied down to someone I loved barely afractionof how I love you! Sure, I thought it would happen when your mama died, but there was always hope in me that you would come back tome,and I wanted you to be able to find me.”
“Why didn’t you come to me? For me? I waited foryearsfor you in New York.”
“I did!”I admit, slinking back into my seat, the hurt I had burrowed deep inside that day resurfacing.
Whiskey eyes go wide at my declaration. “What?”
“As soon as I was cleared by my physical therapist, and I was financially able, I flew to New York. I spent six weeks there tracking you down. Which, by the way,Zoeydid not make it easy. That’s fine, I understandit. She thinks everyone is unworthy of you, and she’s fucking right to some degree, probably. But by the time I got you, you had dropped out of college and lived in some high-rise. Ver, I stood outside of that building, across the street forhours, sunflowers in hand, and when you finally came down… That motherfucker was with you, and you were pushing a stroller.”
I can see the agony etching on her face as this truth dawns on her.
“And you thought she was his.” She gasps, but she sounds sorrowful, in disbelief.
My heart descends completely, reliving that memory of Micah leaning over the baby inside like a proud father, and I can’t breathe. “And I thought she was his…and I let him raise her.”That’s the part. That’s the part that hurts me the most. The part that haunts me.
“Dean!” The way her heart breaks for us, for what we could’ve been if she hadn’t let Micah get close– and if I had just not been a fucking coward– hurts me more than my own. “Years!” Is all she says, a croak in her voice but no tears. “Years wasted.”
“I know.” It’s all I can say, because the rage still bubbling inside of me isn’t lessening. It’s growing. I’m furious with myself. Furious with her. With him. With Zoey for not telling me where Verity was. Angry with who I used to be, mainly. A coward. That anger claws at me like a beast, waking, and I can’t stand to look at the food anymore. But I have to ask.
I stare at her, the woman that’s held my heart for the last twenty-two fucking years, and I blurt the question out. “Do you even know what happened that night, Verity? The night you left?”
“Not until after I got to New York.” She replies wearily, as though the truth of everything being spoken of right now is just too much, and I know it is.
“I lied to you. Is what happened. Kind of. I told you I was getting my stuff, and I’d meet you at the airport, but I went to that race. I went to that race, and I won the fifty grand, plus an extra fifteen thousand just for participating. I’d trained foryearsfor it, and when I won, I felt like a goddamn millionaire. Partially because of the money, but mostly because I was going to New York to be with my girl, and I had enough money for us to get settled properly without having to worry about anything for at least a few months while I found a job. I had it all planned, baby. I didn’t know a goddamn thing about New York, but I would have worked three jobs to make sure you didn’t have to worry about anything except writing.” I scoff at how fucking stupid I was.
No, that dream had been way too easy. As soon as the money was in my backpack, I shoulda known it was too good to be true. Adelaide has a wayof stealing everything you want from your literal grasp. Which is why I can’t be mad at her for leaving. She was right to leave this shit town behind.
“After I collected the money, I was off, racing to the airport. I was low on time, and I was praying the flight was delayed due to the storm that was coming, except it started drizzling. Not hard, but the roads got just slick enough. My bike skidded, and I went into the ditch. I heard my phone ringing on the side of the road when I woke up. Your name, your picture was flashing. I dragged myself, but I was too far to reach, and I was in so much pain. I broke my femur, shattered my leg under the weight of the bike. Someone finally stopped on the side of the road and called the ambulance. They left my phone behind.”
I recall the pain and the phantom throbs begin again.
“When I got to the hospital and my dad arrived, I asked for his phone to call you, but you didn’t answer. I called about fifty times andnothing.”
“I turned my phone off on the plane. I had stared down the aisle, hoping you’d show up like the ending of a goddamn rom-com.” She says, her anger quiet, but I can feel it like I feel my own. “Once the plane was going, I thought maybe you had changed your mind and decided to stay. Which hurt, but I knew we could have gotten through that.”
We could’ve gotten through anything.
“They took me in for X-rays, and I had to go into surgery immediately because my bone was partially sticking out of my skin.”
“They told me you died.”
“Who did?”
