Page 26 of Cruz

“I’m not.” I pause so that I don’t wreck a socket by angrily unscrewing a bulb too hard. “At the time, I was terrified, but I also had good people in my life. People who took care of me and mentored me and gave me opportunities and chances. People who saw me and believed in me. The old owners of this place, mostly, but there were others. The shop isn’t just a building. It’s sort of a family member and a best friend in a way. Maybe that’s part of the reason I’m so protective of it. The building sheltered me when I had nowhere else to go. I want to take care of it in return.”

“I—”

I cut him off. I know what he’s going to say, and I don’t want his sympathy. My life turned out fine. “I did miss my parents, but they made their decision. That was that. I did what I could to move on. I sort of grew up with Liam, in a way. I love being his mom. I went to all his games, his plays, did all the school fairs and projects together. I tried to find balance between smothering him and letting him be his own person. You can see that I still struggle with that.”

“You might struggle, but the only thing I’ve seen is love and respect.”

My eyes spontaneously develop a burning problem. I keep my face tilted, hoping gravity will stop the flow, but science doesn’t work like that. My cheeks get wet. All I can do is hope that I’ll be able to wipe them discreetly before Cruz notices. “I… thank you. Was there ever anyone for you?” I mean a partner, but I didn’t make myself clear. I shouldn’t be asking.

“No.”

“I’m sure your job hours didn’t make that easy. Or were you like me and just never needed it?” I squeeze my eyes shut. That seems to stem the flow of tears. I need to shut up, but I can’t force myself to do it. “I was never lonely without a partner and without my parents. I have plenty of friends. I always did. I was never alone. I was young. I didn’t think I was in love. I wanted to discover things I had no idea about. We were both young.”

Where’s that convenient sinkhole to swallow me up when I need it most? I’m so hot with mortification that I’m shocked this ladder doesn’t melt beneath me. “We used protection every time. It failed, and I got pregnant.” Stop. You don’t need to explain yourself. “He didn’t want to do the parent thing. I might have been scared, but I was realistic about it all too. I never wanted Liam to have people coming in and out of his life. I wanted to protect him. And… maybe… my love was the cafe and Liam. I didn’t have room for anything else. I thought that if I ever did, I’d know it, and I never knew it.” The only men I ever had any tingles for, or ever had a literal moment of weakness about, were the exact wrong kind. I would never have acted on it. I still was attracted. I knew I wasn’t dead. I just didn’t want the complications and the bullshit. I thought if there was ever anyone who was right, I’d get that feeling, and then that notion passed. “Sorry,” I mumble. “I don’t know why I’m talking about any of this.” I plow from one subject to the next. “Your family? Are you close?”

Chapter 11

Cruz

If anyone else asked me that question, it would make me feel like I’d been backed into a corner, but the soft, concerned, open way that Sloane asks doesn’t make me feel threatened or put on the spot. She’s not waiting to trip me up or use the information against me. I don’t know many people who would, but I’m naturally cautious. I suppose it comes from always being on the sidelines watching. I’ve seen a lot of shit go wrong.

“No.”

Try as I might, that’s the only word I can get out. I want to tell her that I appreciate her opening up to me. It’s not an easy thing, to be raw and transparent. Giving someone else an insider peek into your heart and the things you value the most, gives them a weapon to use against you. The fact that she’s telling me this is like her handing me a key, knowing that I’ll never use it against her. It’s trust.

We haven’t known each other long enough for that, but she’s placing all of this in my hands anyway. I want to curl my palms tight and keep that information safe forever.

I’m aware that the impulse is far too sentimental.

“Were you quiet growing up? Did people make assumptions? Was it bad? Never mind. You don’t have to tell me. That’s being nosy.”

Sloane’s expression is so sweet, so open, so kind that I find myself wanting to tell her. Not only that, but I open my mouth, and the words are just… there. “It was… what it was. It wasn’t that bad. Mostly, I was a big kid. People tend not to fuck with you if you look like you can put them in the ground with a single punch.”

“Did you ever have to do that?”

“Once or twice. The tough guys like to take on the big ones sometimes. It only ever took one punch, though I’d try to warn them. I was nice about it like that, but when it couldn’t be avoided…”

“Are people drawn to you? When they should be scared?”

I don’t like giving myself away, but I know that I look surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Do you have this magnetism where people just can’t help themselves? Where they want to be your friend, or want to come talk because you’re intimidating and good looking, but there’s also something mysterious about you that makes them want to get close? The whole silence thing is a big mystery to people, but you have this aura.”

I swallow thickly. “I tried to protect people as a kid, then I grew up and did it for my country.”

She cocks her head. The late morning sunlight shines through the café’s windows, haloing her sandy hair and turning her eyes the color of damp leaves in the summer. “Your parents weren’t proud of that?”

“My parents came from money. They were too drunk or flatlined on prescription meds to care most of the time.”

“I… fuck. That’s shitty. People think that not having money sucks and it does. Poverty is a terrible thing. But having too much doesn’t seem to be good for people either. There are some that probably manage to stay grounded, but you don’t hear a lot of stories about that.”

“Yeah. Generally, money brings boredom and boredom brings you too much time to think, and while you’re thinking, you might start to feel. I don’t think people are properly equipped to deal with that. They were okay for a while, when I was really young. I remember some of that, but then they got one prescription and another and another and they couldn’t function without it. To be honest I don’t know what triggered it with them, we didn’t really talk as a family. And as you’ve probably gathered, I’m not a big talker, anyway.”

“Did you see specialists? For not talking?”

“Dozens. My parents didn’t want a freak for a kid, and my dad didn’t want a stupid one either.”

“Oh my god!” She fists her hands on her hips all the way up there on the ladder. I nearly panic, and shoot a hand out to brace her, but she grabs the top and supports herself. “Where are these people? Write down their address right now!”