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Her eyes narrowed.
“I don’t have a vagina, baby, so when I say you’re right what I’m saying is you’re right. I asked you to trust me. And you’re right to call me on my shit. I don’t talk about my parents because there’s nothing to talk about. They fed, clothed, and housed me. The end. My childhood was unremarkable. No story. No trauma. No lies. No dysfunction. Just nothing. When I left for the Navy that didn’t change. I just no longer slept under their roof and they were no longer responsible to feed me. But that shit actually stopped when I was fifteen and got a job. By the time I was sixteen and one of them no longer needed to cart me around, I spent as much time away from the house as I could. They had no issue with this. Hell, I’m not even sure if they knew I was gone.”
“I caution to say this, but that’s dysfunction, honey.”
I shrugged, not knowing if it was dysfunction or simply two selfish people who never should’ve had a child.
“What I know is, it was fucked growing up not having anyone give a shit about you. You can slap whatever label on it but that’s the truth of it. So, again, my family is in the conference room. Smith, Jonas, Cash, and Garrett, those are my brothers. Theo slipped in when Garrett left. Kira and Layla joined the team and they have my heart. Zane and the rest have become family, too.”
“Is that why you didn’t fake your death like Theo did?”
Jesus fuck, the woman was thorough.
“Yep. No need. I didn’t have a family like Theo did who would miss him. As you know, Cash didn’t either.”
Suddenly her features went soft and the tension left her body. A look I’d only seen first thing in the morning, when she was still sleepy and hadn’t climbed behind her walls.
“I don’t want to ask Kira to look into what Charlie’s doing because I don’t want anyone to think I’m weak.”
Christ.
No prompting, no fighting, no coaxing.
“Why the hell would anyone think you’re weak for asking about your father?”
“He lied to me my whole life.”
“He kept a secret,” I corrected, unsure why I was defending the asshole.
“That’s the same thing.”
“If you live in black and white, sure. But we don’t, and people like us understand the varying degrees of grey.”
The tension she’d lost in her shoulders came back tenfold. Clearly I was doing myself no favors pointing out what we both knew to be true.
“You think it’s okay he kept that from me? My mother—”
“No, I’m not saying that at all. You know I think it’s fucked. I think he should’ve told you a long time ago. What I’m saying is I don’t know why he didn’t tell you and neither do you. Zane gave you good wisdom, Nebraska; family isn’t perfect and what was meant to protect can hurt. Charlie hurt you but the piece you don’t have is the most important one—the why. Straight up his reasons might not be good enough for you. But at least you’ll know and move accordingly. But mostly what I’m saying is no one in that room is going to think you’re weak for loving your father. You can’t turn off love just because you’re hurt and angry. It doesn’t work that way, baby.”
“Do you still love your parents after—”
“Yes. It’s a distant love, but yes, it’s still there. That doesn’t mean I want anything to do with them but I can’t deny I love them. And maybe that’s all you’re left with—a distant, nostalgic love that’s rooted in gratefulness. My parents didn’t give me much but I didn’t have it bad.”
She didn’t look convinced and I couldn’t blame her.
“Our situations are very different,” I started to explain but got no further.
“Not by much,” she contradicted. “We were both fed, clothed, and housed but neither of us got the important stuff.”
I felt my chest compress and my throat felt like someone had wrapped a hand around it and was choking me.
“Zane was right,” she went on softly. “I grew up being trained, not loved or cared for. I knew that already. I just didn’t understand until I met you, all that I was missing.”
I could take no more.
“We need to get to the conference room,” I announced.
Hurt saturated her eyes before she covered it up with attitude.
