to stop playing video games, and making sure you were home before curfew.”
My lips reluctantly quirk at the last example she throws in. Dad was strict about my ass being in the house by an appointed time. Jenna always made sure to send me a fifteen-minute warning. She saved me on more than one occasion when I was having too much fun, and it slipped my mind.
“You’ve been carrying all this hurt around for your entire life.”
“That’s not true.” When I attempt to shake my head and deny the accusation, her fingers dig into my chin.
“Oh, sweetie,” her voice softens, “yes, you have. I remember the first time your father introduced us. We went to a park so you could play on the equipment.”
I sift through my childhood memories but am not able to dredge up that particular one. It doesn’t matter because she continues, filling in all the blanks.
“After we arrived at the playground, you refused to leave your father’s side.”
A prickle of unease blooms in the pit of my belly as I still, barely able to inhale.
“Warren kept encouraging you to play with the other kids, but you wouldn’t do it. You were so afraid that he was going to walk away and leave you.”
Just like Candace.
That tingle in the bottom of my gut turns into full-blown nausea. “It took years before you were willing to take a chance and let me in. Maybe you don’t remember that, but I do. And ever since, the people in your life have had to earn your trust.”
It takes effort to blink away the turmoil attempting to break loose inside me so that it doesn’t have a chance to roll down my cheeks. Only now does it occur to me that I’ve spent my entire life keeping everyone around me at arm’s length. Never wanting to feel too much, never wanting them to get too close. And yeah, running away rather than face my emotions head-on.
“What I’ve learned in life is that you can’t move forward if you’re constantly looking back.”
She’s right about that. I allowed Candace and the past to keep me from people and experiences that could have been amazing.
“Do you know who I feel most sorry for?” When I shake my head, she continues. “Candace. You’ve grown into such an amazing man. And she missed out on that.”
It takes effort to clear the thick lump of emotion wedged in my throat. “If I’ve turned out well, it has everything to do with you. You’re the mother that she never could be.”
Fresh tears fill her dark eyes before trekking down her cheeks. “You made it easy. And I love you, Colton. I couldn’t love you any more if you were my own.”
I tug her to me, this time wrapping my arms around her and hugging tight. “I love you, too.”
When we finally pull away, there’s wetness on both of our cheeks. With my hand secured in hers, she settles next to me on the stool before clearing her throat. “I know you’ve always been adamant about not wanting to go to therapy, but I really believe it could be beneficial.”
I jerk my shoulders. In the past, whenever she’s broached the subject, I’ve shot it down. Even though it’s on the tip of my tongue to do it again, I refrain. “Maybe.”
The idea of sitting in some stranger’s office and pouring my heart out sounds awful. But then again, I’m tired of dealing with all of this on my own. Or maybe, the real issue is that I’ve never dealt with my emotions, and they’ve been festering inside me for years.
I suppose it’s something to consider.
“Have you spoken to Alyssa about this? Does she know?”
Right. Alyssa. That’s another problem. One I’m unsure how to solve. Maybe I do need professional help.
I plow my hand through my hair. “She broke up with me the other day.”
“Let me guess,” Jenna says gently, “you shut down and pushed her away after what happened with Candace.”
Damn. Sometimes I think my stepmother knows me better than I do. Or maybe I should have done myself a favor and opened up to Jenna a long time ago. She’s always been here, ready to listen and help.
“Nailed it,” I mutter, feeling defeated all over again.
With a huff of breath, she falls silent.
We both do.
“Can I assume that Alyssa is the girl you were involved with a couple of years ago?”
My eyes narrow. “I’m gonna be honest, sometimes you seriously frighten me.”