Finding Forgiveness: Second Chance Romance/Enemies to Lovers, page 12
“Of course,” Brooke answers.
Jacinta makes her way down to the front of the room and when she says something to Cassie, her head snaps in my direction.
Brooke places her hand on my arm. “I’ll leave you guys to it.”
“Thank you.”
When Cassandra approaches, I give her a tentative smile. From the outside, she looks fine, but I won’t be able to stop worrying until I know for sure.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hey.” I reach for her hand. “Have you got a second to chat?”
“Sure.”
I turn and lead her towards the door I just came through. The passageway beside the stage will be private enough, and I won’t have to raise my voice to be heard over the music.
“Jaz told me your mum called,” I say once we’re alone. When she bows her head, I place my finger under her chin, bringing her attention back to me. I scan her face as I speak, and now that I’m up close, I can see her eyes are puffy. She’s been crying. “Are you okay?” She nods her head once, but when I see her eyes glistening, I fold her in my arms. “Please tell me you’re not going back to Melbourne?”
She tilts her face back, looking up at me. “I went to see my therapist today; she advised me not to get on the plane.”
“Your therapist sounds extremely wise.” My statement has a small smile tugging at her lips.
“She’s great. She’s helping me, Con.”
“I’m glad.”
“I have to tell you something though; my mother is threatening to go after you again if I don’t do as she demands.”
“Let her. As I told you before, I’m not scared of her, Cass.”
“You should be. You don’t know her like I do.”
“The only thing I’m scared of,” I say, cupping her face and skimming my thumb over her jawline, “is losing you.”
“I’m staying here.”
“Good.”
“I know you have your therapist, but if you ever need anyone to talk to, you know I’m here for you right? Things have been rough for us over the years, but despite that, I care about you.”
“I appreciate that more than you know.”
“You’re my roomie, my cooking buddy … my friend, Cass.”
“I’m glad we’re friends again.”
“I wish we were more.” Those words are out of my mouth before I even realise what I’ve said.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Even after the way I’ve treated you?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve the world, Princess. Any man would be honoured to call you his.”
“I’m a hot mess. You can have any woman you want.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Please,” she scoffs. “We grew up together remember? Women fall at your feet, they always have.”
“If I could have any woman I wanted, Cass, there’s no way we’d be just friends.”
Chapter 15
Cassie
I’m all over the place by the time I get home. Connor’s words are still swimming around in my head. I want him too … I’ve always wanted him. But the only way that can happen is if I tell him the truth. He deserves to know … to hear it from me, but I’m petrified of what will happen if I do. My life will implode, that much I know.
I’m hungry, but I’m too tired to make or order any food. I just want to curl up on my bed and forget everything for a moment. I turned my phone off after my call this morning because I’m chickenshit. I hesitantly switched it back on before I left the studio to find a text message that contained flight details, and two missed calls from my father’s number. My mother would be ropable that I didn’t get on the flight she booked me, and I’m sick to my stomach with worry because of it. Is she now plotting her next move? Is this safe little haven I’ve created about to crumble?
Is it wrong that I’m hoping Connor is in bed when I slide the key into the lock? It’s not that I don’t want to see him, it’s more like I can’t. I need some time to think this out … to sleep on my decision.
I’m messed up inside, and I know I have a huge choice to make. I’m at a crossroads. It feels like my mother is forcing my hand. The last thing she’d want is for me to unburden myself of our secret, but if she’s going to try and destroy Connor’s life, I have to get in first and take her down. It’s the only option I have … my only way out of this mess.
I open the front door and the first thing I hear is the television, so I know Connor is still up. Will he think I’m rude if I just give him a quick hello and head to my room?
When I enter, I don’t find him on the sofa. He’s standing beside the dining table, and it looks like he’s setting it for a meal.
“Hey,” he says from across the room.
“Are you expecting someone?”
“Yes, you.” He pulls a box of matches out of his pocket and lights the candle that’s sitting in the middle of the table. “I’ve made us dinner.”
I place my flattened palm on my chest. “You have?”
“Yes, it’s nothing flash, but I thought you might be hungry.”
God, this man is the sweetest. “I’m starved.” So much for the quick hello. I place my bag down, and as I approach the table, he pulls out a chair for me. “Thank you.”
We’ve been experimenting at home with certain dishes we’ve made in cooking class; it’s been hit and miss, but heaps of fun. It’s a lot harder without a teacher in the room giving you step-by-step instructions, but I’ve grown to love our one-on-one time together.
He’s changed out of his suit and is casually dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. His dark hair is still wet from his shower, and that witchery shampoo of his is working its magic as his delicious scent invades all my senses. He smells so good I could gobble him up.
Connor reaches for the bottle of white wine that’s chilling in a bucket of ice, effortlessly removes the lid, and pours a huge amount into the glass. He obviously thinks I need it, and he’d be right.
“Relax, Princess,” he says, passing it to me. “The food is almost ready.”
“What are you cooking?” I ask before taking a sip of my wine.
“Lasagne.”
That is not something we’ve learnt in class, but I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s taken to this cooking gig much better than I have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of all the things I’ve made, but he’s killing it.
There is not much this man can’t do; he seems to excel at everything. He was not only the best-looking boy at our school, he was also the smartest. He shone outside of the classroom as well … in any kind of sport. He’s what you might call an all-rounder.
“You are making lasagne? Are you using your mum’s recipe?”
“No, I found this one online. I even went to the store on my own and bought all the ingredients. Granted, I got the premade lasagne sheets … I’m not that advanced yet, but it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. If you like it, we can make it together another time.”
His thoughtfulness has tears stinging the back of my eyes. He’s going to make some lucky woman very happy one day. “Sounds delicious, I can’t wait to taste it.”
He leaves the room and comes back a few minutes later with a beer in one hand and a salad bowl in the other, placing it down in the centre of the table. His chest kind of puffs out when he stands to full height. He’s proud of himself, and so he should be.
I lean forward in my chair, peering inside. All the vegetables are cut uniformly. It has a smile tugging at my lips. My knife skills are still lacking, but it all goes down the same way, right?
“I made the same dressing we did in class last week.”
“Yum,” I say. “It looks good.”
He heads back into the kitchen, and I take a large gulp of wine. Once I place the glass down beside my plate, I take in the table setting. It looks very … romantic. That should please me, but instead, it has my stomach recoiling.
The lasagne smells amazing when he places it down beside the salad. “Ignore that little burnt bit in the corner,” he says, and I grin up at him. “There must be a hot spot in the oven. I’ll know better for next time.”
He cuts me off a piece—from the non-burnt side—and serves it to me. You can clearly see the defining layers and I’m impressed. He places down the spatula and after a quick toss, he uses the salad tongs to scoop some onto my plate. This feels very domesticated yet intimate. Living with him has given me a glimpse of how wonderful our lives would be if we were a couple. I’ve always known he was the best thing to ever happen to me, so this moment only amplifies my loss.
“Thank you,” I say as I pick up my knife and fork. “It looks so good, Con.”
“You’re welcome, and thank you,” he says, beaming. He looks so happy … so proud. But seeing him like this has bile rising to the back of my throat, because the things I need to tell him are life altering.
He takes his seat opposite me, and I cut off a small piece of lasagne, bringing it to my mouth. “Yum.”
“You like?”
“I do, it’s delicious.”
“I doubt it’s as good as Mum’s or Jaz’s.”
“It’s better.”
To be honest, they pretty much taste the same, but since this is his first time, he wins by default.
“Really?”
“You did good, Maloney.”
He’s still smiling as he digs in. He deserves all the praise. I’m so grateful to be here with him, and I can only hope we’ll have many more moments like this going forward.
“Thanks again for dinner,” I say, placing the last dish away. I offered to clean up since he had cooked, but he wanted to help. We’ve fallen into a routine over the past few weeks, and even the most mundane chores seem rewarding with him by my side.
I hang the tea towel over the handle on the oven to dry and reach up to pull the elastic from my hair. I run my fingers through the long strands as I focus back on Connor. He’s leaning against the counter, legs crossed at the ankle, and arms folded over his muscly chest. I take a beat to appreciate the sight before me. He is a vision, and if things were different, I’d be all over this man like a rash.
By the time my eyes move back to meet his, I find him watching me intently. “I was pretty impressed with your pole skills today … well what little I saw.”
“I enjoy it, it’s fun.”
“It’s sexy is what it is.” I feel my cheeks flush. He’s the only man on this earth who’s gained that kind of reaction from me. He pushes off the counter and closes the distance between us. “I’m a sucker for this,” he says, reaching up to lightly brush his knuckle across my cheek. “It reminds me of the young and innocent girl I fell hopelessly in love with.”
That girl died right alongside her child.
I turn my face away as I feel my emotions bubble back to the surface. “It’s late,” I say, choking on my words. “I’m going to take a shower and head to bed.”
“Hey.” He brings my face back to his. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No.” The tears I’m struggling to hold at bay make their way to the surface.
“Cass.” I clench my eyes close, and Connor being Connor does the sweetest thing. He leans in and places a soft kiss on each eyelid before folding me in his arms. “I’m sorry you’re going through this,” he says, resting his chin on top of my head.
I wrap my arms around him and hold on tight. I don’t ever want to let go, but I’m afraid I won’t have a choice. “It’s nothing you did or didn’t do Con, you’ve been wonderful. It’s just been a shitty day.”
I can hear Connor moving around in the kitchen. Turning my head, I look at the clock beside my bed. It’s just after six, and I’ve barely slept. This decision I’m struggling to make feels like a ton of bricks weighing heavily on my chest. I know what I have to do, I’m just petrified to do it.
Connor Maloney deserves better. He needs to know the truth despite what those consequences may bring. He’s been kept in the dark too long.
The realisation has me flinging back the covers and rising from the bed. It’s now or never. I head to the bathroom first, do my business, wash my hands, and brush my teeth. I don’t want to kill him with my morning breath.
The butterflies in my stomach take flight as soon as I enter the kitchen and find him leaning against the counter with a coffee in hand. He’s dressed in his power suit, ready for work.
“Morning,” he says. “You’re up early … trouble sleeping?”
“Yeah.”
He extends his arm, handing me the mug he’s holding. “You look like you need this more than me.”
“Thanks.” I take it from him and place it down on the counter. “Con.”
“Yeah, Cass.”
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
He stands up straighter, and his concerned eyes scan over my face. “Did something else happen? Did your mother contact you again?”
“I had a few more calls from my father’s number, but I didn’t answer them in case it was her.”
“Good. I’m going to look into getting you a new number.”
I gulp air into my lungs as I prepare myself for the things I’m about to say. “You know how we broke up?”
“Technically we never broke up, you just ghosted me and then started dating that tool from your school.”
I blow out a puff of air. “I never liked that guy, I only pretended to date him.”
“Why did you do that, Cass? To hurt me? As if ghosting me wasn’t enough … I thought you loved me.”
“I did.”
“Right,” he scoffs. “If you loved me, you never would’ve—”
I steel myself and blurt out the words before I chicken out. “I was pregnant, Con.”
“What?”
“I fell pregnant.”
“To him?”
“No.”
He gives me a confused look as he runs his hand through his hair. “You were pregnant with our child or someone else’s?”
“Ours, I never cheated on you.” The tears bubble to the surface and begin to cascade down my cheeks.
“Let me get this straight, you fell pregnant, and instead of telling me you broke it off?”
He takes a step backwards when I nod my head. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry,” he roars as his face turns red. “You’re fucking sorry.”
Turning, he storms from the kitchen, and my stomach drops. He has every right to be angry, but he hasn’t even heard the half of it yet. That news was just the tip of the iceberg.
“Connor,” I cry, chasing after him. Ignoring me, he picks up his suitcase and starts storming towards the front door. “Connor please let me explain.”
His back is to me as he pauses at the doorway and raises his hand. “I can’t even look at you right now. For years I beat myself up, wondering what I had done to make you hate me so much … I guess I finally have my answer.”
“I never hated you, please believe me. I meant it when I said I loved you, but I didn’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice, Cassandra.”
“It was my mother … she threatened to destroy you if I told anyone … I was trying to protect you.”
He blows out an exasperated breath as his shoulders deflate. For a split second, I think I’m getting through to him, but then he grasps the doorknob and walks over the threshold, slamming the door behind him as he leaves.
I fall to my knees, burying my face in my hands and sob like a baby. Just like I did that fateful day—all those years ago—when my world fell apart.
I was jolted awake when my bedroom door flew open so violently, it hit the adjoining wall with a loud thud. “Get up,” my mother shrieked from the doorway.
I rolled onto my stomach and pressed my face into the pillow. After being screamed at for two hours straight last night, I was in no mood for another round that morning.
I was nauseous, tired, and scared. So fucking scared. She wasn’t supposed to find out … not yet anyway. I hadn’t even told Connor the news. He was supposed to be the first person I told. I may only be sixteen years old and far too young to be a mother, but I already loved this baby and I’d make it work … somehow, even if Connor decided he wasn’t ready for that type of commitment.
“Go away.”
“I said, get up.” The sheets that were covering my body were roughly torn away as she spoke. “I need you to take this.”
“Take what?” I asked, lifting my head from where it was buried in my pillow, glancing at her over my shoulder.
“A vitamin for the baby.” She extended her arm where a glass of water sat in her hand. “I may not be happy about this situation, but that’s my grandchild you’re carrying, so its welfare is my first priority.”
As shitty as I felt, a small smile tugged at my lips, because that was the last thing I expected her to say.
Sitting up, I reached for the glass. She opened her other hand to reveal a white, round tablet lying in her palm. I didn’t even think twice, taking it from her and popping it in my mouth. She was a doctor, after all. My mother may be cruel with her words, but apart from the slap I received last night—which I probably deserved—she would never physically harm me.
“Good girl,” she said once I’d swallowed it down. “I want you to take the next few days off school. It’s important you get your rest.”
“Okay,” I replied, feeling perplexed at the sudden change in her demeanour. “I’ll bring you up some dry toast and a glass of apple juice before I leave. Are you feeling nauseous?”
“A little.”
She nodded her head once. “The toast will help. I’ll get some peppermint tea on my way home from work. I used to drink that when I was pregnant with you.”
“You did?”
“Yes, I was dreadfully sick in my first trimester.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hopefully you won’t suffer as much as I did.”
“Hopefully.”
