Page 31 of The Biggest Secret
She’s never done this before. We’ve gone almost a week without texting or calling and then we’d just meet up again and everything was fine. That’s why it worked, for me, at least. I could bury myself in work until that didn’t cover the thoughts anymore. Then I could bury myself in Grace until that dulled the pain.
To my family, my sister especially, I’m Saint Adam. I’m a hard worker. I’m there whenever they need me. While Tom wasin boot camp and then later, the academy, training to become a cop, I took care of his home and paid his mortgage. I was able to do it and it made me feel good that I could alleviate his stress so he could focus.
When Billy got in trouble with the law, I bailed him out and gave him a job. I kept him close to me, trained him, and now he’s my top guy. When Francesca found out her douchebag ex-boyfriend was cheating on her, I moved her back home from the city and gave her a house. When Jackson hit rock bottom after cutting ties with the NFL, I helped get him the coaching job at our old high school.
I did all that so that my parents didn’t have to go through any more drama than they already had with us while we were growing up. Three boys, two of which are twins, and a baby girl was not easy for them. My dad worked all the time to provide for us. They even took in Jackson when his mom couldn’t afford to put him through football camps or buy his equipment.
I say all that not to brag, but to say how people view me is an illusion. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and my friends more than anything, but underneath the surface good guy, is a dick. I have no time for relationships. If it wasn’t for the few friends I had already made before I took over Dad’s business, I’d have no friends at all. My time is spent working and securing a future for myself and my family. Responsibility. No time for fun or fooling around.
If you’re not a part of that, I don’t need you.
Chelsea was a part of that core group, but in hindsight, I realize I didn’t work to keep her there.I just assumed she always would be.
What’s worse than not having someone to love? Worse than not ever finding that one person who you know is going to be it for you?
Losingthat one. Knowing she’s out there but that you didn’t do enough to make her want to stay.
My perfectionist attitude pushed her away instead of doing what I thought it would and make her want me. Make her want to stay for the perfect life in the perfect house with the perfect fence and perfect dog I worked so hard to give her.
I lived with that guilt since the day I realized Chelsea had packed up and left. Damn, how did I let it get that bad? So absorbed in work andmy family, that I didn’t see when the woman moved out of her home, not even realizing that she had broken up with me.
I jump as CJ taps on my driver’s side window. I quickly undo my seatbelt, slide out of the truck, and pocket my phone. “Sorry, lost in my thoughts for a minute.”
We’re standing close, she barely moved out of the way when I got out of the truck, Dominic on her hip. Taking the diaper bag from her shoulder, brushing her arm as I do, those same electric currents I always got when she was nearby run through me like a live wire. I hold her stare, swing the bag onto my shoulder and reach out and grasp her hand. I give her a squeeze, then reluctantly drop her hand and guide her up the path with my hand on her back.
I need to keep my distance from her, but it’s the hardest thing to do. My body wants her while my mind says ‘back the fuck up’.
“Don’t be nervous,” I tell her.
“Easy for you to say.”
We walk up the porch and I knock lightly then open the door. “Mom? Dad?”
“Adam? We’re in here!”
Chelsea follows me and we walk into the living room to find my dad in his chair reading the newspaper and my mom crocheting a blanket. She makes them all year long then gifts them to the town during Christmas.
“Hi hon—oh my gosh! Chelsea Jo?” Mom stands and starts toward me. Chelsea steps out from beside me and comes into full view with Dominic on her hip.
“Oh!” Mom gasps and covers her mouth. Her eyes are frantically moving between myself and Dominic, and back again. “Oh my God!” she cries. “Frank!” She stumbles, holding onto the arm of the couch, and I reach out to steady her, my dad jumping from his chair doing the same.
“Janet! What’s wrong?” He abruptly stops speaking and does the same loud gasp Mom just did when he gets a look at Dominic.
“Sweet baby Jesus… Adam?”
My mom bursts into tears, one hand holding my dad’s arm and the other gripping the side of the couch.
“Adam?” she questions again through sobs.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Casanova. I-I have someone for you to meet.”
My mom stands and walks toward us, her arms outstretched, then she pulls them back. “He’s... Adam. Oh, Adam, he’s you. I’m looking at you thirty years ago! How? When?”
“Come on, let’s all sit down, and we’ll explain it all.”
* * *
After two hours, a box of tissues and a bottle of wine, Mom and Dad are caught up and Dominic is playing with his little cars while Mom hovers over him.
