Page 61 of Forget Me Not

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FOUR

Kaden

“You need to go home, Kaden.” Demi sighs as she opens the door to her apartment to find me sitting against the wall next to the door.

She tells me this every day, and still, I sit here every second I can. It’s been two weeks of this. Two weeks of not seeing Logan. Two weeks of not speaking to her. Two weeks of complete silence. If I’m not working or sleeping, I’m here. Hoping by some slim chance, today will be the day I’ll be allowed inside. It’s completely pathetic and I couldn’t care less.

“I’m good here.” I move, sitting up straighter and wincing at the strain in my lower back. Demi looks at me like she pities me. It’s how I know that she doesn’t know what happened. It’s how I know Lo hasn’t said anything to her about why I’m sitting out here and not in there with her.

“Well.” She steps out of the apartment, closing the door behind her. “If you won’t leave, I guess this is a good chance for us to talk.” She sits down on the floor across from me.

“What exactly are we talking about?” I don’t mean to come across as dumb. There’s just so much she could be referring to. So many things that could fall under one simple statement.

“Anything.” She sighs. “Everything. We’ve been working on this brother-sister relationship between us for months and I still don’t know anything beyond surface level about you. Just… tell me something real.” She looks nervous, and there’s a hint of desperation in her voice.

“What do you know about how our father ended up with your mother? And what do you know about my mother?” I ask her, not knowing where to start talking but knowing that it’s time to.

“I know that he left your mom for my mom, but that’s it. He never really mentioned your mom. He did call her crazy one time, but that’s the only thing I can remember.”

“That’s on brand for him.” I scoff. “My mom lived with paranoid schizophrenia. She was never crazy. He just never cared enough to help her.”

“I didn’t know,” Demi says, a solemn look on her face. “So, your mom started showing signs of mental illness and instead of getting her the help she needed, he found my mom, got her pregnant, and left the two of you for us.” She shakes her head. “No wonder you hate me.”

“I’ve never hated you, Demi. I hate him. Somewhere along the way, I let my resentment for him rub off on you and that was never fair. And as for Alexander Rhodes, our scumbag of a father, I think the only thing I don’t hate him for is leaving. Yeah, growing up wasn’t easy, and it sucked a lot of the time. But he wasn’t a good guy to us. It would’ve been worse with him there.”

“You’re right.” Demi bites her lip, looking more anxious than I’ve ever seen her. “Having him in your life is much worse than not having him in it.”

I stay silent, waiting for her to continue. Waiting for her to explain. I can tell she wants to, but she seems to be struggling every time she opens her mouth.

“You wanted to talk, Demi. I need you to be honest with me too. I want you to explain.”

“Yes, I wanted to talk and I’m trying. It’s not about what you need right now,” she snaps back. “Just give me a second, okay?”

“Okay,” I say immediately, and she nods.

The silence stretches between us. I watch her as she seems to go back and forth in a battle within herself. And then finally, she sits up straighter and it seems like she’s won whatever war was waging within her.

“How much do you know about our father after he left you?” she asks.

“Not much. I know he got some fancy job and did well for himself. I know he’s still with your mom. I know he’s an asshole. That’s about it.”

“Okay.” She nods to herself. “Our father, he wasn’t just a bad guy to you.” She pauses, and my stomach sinks. “He was okay when I was younger. I was a daddy’s girl. He bought me pretty dresses and would take me to the club to show me off to all of his friends. I doted on him, and he loved it. Stupid.” She laughs humorlessly.

“One day, he took me and my mother to dinner at the club with him and his colleagues. The main course was duck. I was six, I didn’t want it, and I told him that. He told me to stop being a brat and eat it. I told him no. He told the waiter to bring me some chicken instead. He acted like it was okay in front of his friends, and the evening went on as normal. We drove home in silence, and when we walked into the house, he told me to go to my room. He followed me up the stairs and once we got to the top, he pushed me down them. That was the first time he abused me. He continued to until the day I turned eighteen and left.” Tears are falling freely down her cheeks by the time she finishes. She doesn’t acknowledge them though.

“Fuck, Demi. I didn’t know—”

“Nobody did,” she cuts me off. “Alexander Rhodes is a professional liar. To the outside world, he was the perfect father and husband. Inside the walls of our home, he was a monster.”

“What about your mother? I’m assuming he abuses her too. She never tried to get you out? She’s never tried to get out herself?”

“Yeah, he abuses her too. Well, he did. I’m assuming he still does. But she never tried to get us out. Alexander has narcissistic tendencies. My mother always blamed me, even if it made no sense. It was my fault for making him angry at the both of us. I’m not sure what her excuse is now that I’m gone. I tried getting her out once, not long after I left, but she wouldn’t go. She loves him. Fuck knows why.”

Everything I pictured as Demi’s life, everything I despised her for, comes crashing down. All this time, I thought she was the lucky one. I thought she lived the life I dreamed of as a kid. Turns out she probably had it worse than me. And I never knew because I was so caught up in my own shit I never thought to ask.

“Fuck. I’m an asshole. Nearly my entire life, every time you reached out to me, I turned you away. I resented you for a life that never existed. I could’ve helped you, but instead, I ignored you. Fuck, Demi, I’m so sorry.”

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