Between Now and Heartbreak - Dylan Allen Page 0,50

and when he looks back at me, he his eyes are so bleak, that apprehension instantly eclipses my anger.

I take a tentative step toward him, and put my hand over his heart. He covers it with his and pulls me into a bear hug. I wrap my arms around him and he curls around me, holding me so tight that breathing is instantly harder. He smells like s

“I don’t want you to think differently of me.” His breath is hot against my neck and his stubbled cheek scrapes my face.

“I could never,” I try to sound reassuring, but inside I’m panicking.

What is he about to tell me? I swallow down my dread him. I run my hands in soothing circles over his strong back and lay my head on his shoulder. “You’re scaring me. Just say it.”

He takes a deep breath and lets me out of the bear hug, but takes my hand and leads me over to the small blue love seat by the window.

We sit, my hand in his while he talks.

“The Kendicotts were my parents. I was adopted by the Bosh’s when I was less than six weeks old. When I was here last summer, someone saw me and looked like she’d seen a ghost. My parents had scant details about my mother, but I wanted to know more. I love my family. I don’t want another one, but I wanted to know where I came from. My brother can look at my dad and know what he’ll look like in twenty years. Nadia the same. High cholesterol runs in my mother’s family and she made sure all of us ate with that in mind. But, I don’t know any of that and I wanted to.”

My heart aches for him. He looks tortured. I didn’t exactly win the birth lottery, but I can’t imagine having no clue who my real parents are.

“I would want to know, too Carter. So, how did you find out who she was?”

“Well first I got a DNA test and put the results on one of those sites where you can build a family tree and find out our ancestry. I had a hit, a match instantly. The profile didn’t have a picture, but the initials were SB. I hired a private investigator, gave him all the information my parents had and he found her. But he also found that she’d given birth before —”

“But she didn’t list the kid on her marriage certificate application.”

I finish for him. He lets go of my hand and leans away.

“How do you know that?” He voice is incredulous.

“Dina talked about it,” I say absently. A million thoughts rush through my mind. Like eels writhing in a barrel, and just as I catch the tail of one, it slips free of my grasp.

“Beth?” He calls me, and I look up at him dazedly.

“So, you thought Duke was that kid?…” is all I manage, but my throat is too dry, my thoughts too jumbled to say much more.

“So… you didn’t tell me because you don’t want people to know you’re related to her?” I choose my words carefully, because I can see that this is very hard for him.

He nods, his expression pained and guarded.

“I’m not exactly proud of what she did. Who she is. And I have you know, anger issues. I used to get into trouble, fights and shit when I was kid. I had nightmares and anxiety as a teen. I didn’t take the news about being adopted well and I acted out. I was drinking too much and I hit this girl, in my sleep, but I hurt her. But I’m not violent. I would never, ever hurt you.” His voice is urgent and his don’t understand where this is coming from.

“I know that, Carter.” The incident with the girl, is one of the first things that comes up when you google him. The facts are all there and it was an isolated thing. I’ve never considered it’s something that could happen again.

“I read somewhere that she was a singer … and, I look like her.” He says, his voice is clipped, his expression taut with pain.

My heart squeezes in my chest as everything makes sense, suddenly. My gut fills with dread.

“I see…” I say again, not sure what to say next.

“Aren’t – are you worried that…I’m like her in other ways?” His tentative question breaks my heart. I understand, too well, the fear he’s voicing. But I also know it’s fear born out