Finding Forgiveness: Second Chance Romance/Enemies to Lovers, page 26
I widen my stance and push my hips back into him, greedily taking everything he gives. My nostrils flare as I struggle to get enough air into my lungs, but I don’t want him to stop … I never want him to stop.
His body leans over mine as he fists my hair in his hand and tugs my head back so he can kiss my neck. “You are my sweetest addiction, Cassandra Maloney,” he groans against my skin. “I love you so fucking much.”
I love him too. Truly, madly … deeply.
True love is like a ghost. It’s something everyone talks about but few people actually see. I’m one of the lucky ones because not only do I see it, I feel it every day of my life.
Finding Love
Love isn’t finding someone to live with, it’s finding someone you can’t live without.
I’ve lived a charmed life. My father is rich, powerful, and the CEO of the biggest law firm in the country. I’m the apple of his eye, his baby girl. When I was young, I loved the attention he showered me with. I went with him everywhere, I was his little sidekick, but I’m a grown woman now, and his overprotectiveness has become somewhat smothering. So much so, I made the decision halfway through college to move to another state to finish my law degree. It was time for me to live a little … to breathe. My studies were always my main priority, until I met him.
Chase Daniels is not only a heartbreaker … he’s a soul stealer. I knew it from the very beginning, but I still wanted him anyway. We came from two different worlds. I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth; him … not so much. On paper we’d never work, but in reality, we were a force to be reckoned with. Something about him drew me in; he’s sexy, forbidden, and the more I got to know him, the harder I fell. The only problem was, he wanted to be my friend, nothing more.
I grew up on the other side of the tracks … raised by a mother who was neglectful, manipulative, and always put her endless bevy of men before her son. I was on a one-way trip to nowhere, but that all changed when my stepdad came into my life. He gave me the love and attention I’d always craved. Pops may be rough around the edges, he’s a bikie and not what you’d call a law-abiding citizen, but to me, he’s a hero. He encouraged me to be more, to rise above my circumstances … to make something of my life. I wanted that too, especially once I met her.
Angel Cavanagh is everything I never knew I needed. Breathtakingly beautiful, refined, smart, and so damn sweet. Pure and innocent—my polar opposite. I was addicted from the first glance. I was drawn to her, like a moth to a flame, and even though I knew she was way too good for a man like me, I couldn’t stay away.
Angel
I’m standing at the sink and staring out the kitchen window, watching my dad pace back and forth like a caged animal across the expansive deck. Every so often, he’ll pause to clutch his head or stare blankly out at the ocean at the rear of our property.
Logan Cavanagh is usually relaxed and carefree when he’s at home with his family, but not today. Today he looks like he’s climbing out of his skin … like the world as he knows it is crumbling around his feet. To him, maybe it is. For me, not so much.
In a few hours, our family and friends are arriving for a double celebration … my father’s fifty-fifth birthday and my big move interstate. I’m gathering the latter is the source of his current distress. He’s known this was coming for a while now—although he’s refused to talk about it since our initial conversation—but the disappointment I saw in his eyes that day still haunts me.
I love my dad, so much, and I know those feelings are reciprocated; we’ve always been close. The special bond we share runs deep. A girl couldn’t ask for a more loving, supportive, and protective parent, but those admiring qualities—for me anyway—come with their own set of problems … the smothering.
There’s no malice behind his actions, and when I was a little girl, I adored the attention he showered me with, but I’m a grown-arse woman now, and sometimes that overprotectiveness makes me feel like I can’t breathe. Literally. Hence why I transferred from the University of Sydney to Melbourne, smack bang in the middle of my course.
The last thing I want to do is hurt my dad because he is the best, but it’s time to spread my wings, whether he’s on board with that decision or not.
“Angel,” my mum shrieks.
I glance at her over my shoulder and find her frowning. “Sorry, did you say something?”
“I’ve been talking to you for the past few minutes.”
“I was watching Daddy out the window.”
“What’s he doing?” she asks, rounding the kitchen island, where she’s been busy prepping the food for our celebration, to join me. “Oh dear.”
“Will he be okay, Mum? I’ve never seen him like this.”
“He will,” she answers, rubbing her hand up and down my back. “It will take some adjustments, but in time he’ll get used to the idea of you no longer living here.”
“You understand why I’m doing this, right?”
“I do, sweetie. Your dad can be a bit much sometimes, but his heart is in the right place. He cares deeply about the people he loves, and the two of you have always been especially close.”
“I know.”
“Why don’t you go out there and talk to him? It might make you both feel better.”
I blow out a puff of nervous air, and my stomach churns as I pass through the sliding glass doors and step out onto the back deck. My dad is so lost in his head that he doesn’t even notice me approaching.
“Hey, Daddy,” I say when I’m close enough for him to hear.
He stops moving and turns in the direction of my voice. “Oh, hey.” There’s no beaming smile illuminating his handsome face, like the ones I usually get, and that knowledge makes my heart pang. I knew my leaving wouldn’t be easy for him, but I never expected this.
“Have you got a moment to talk?”
“About what?” he asks, anxiously running his hand through his thick dark hair.
“About me leaving.” As soon as I say that, he abruptly turns and moves towards the edge of the deck in long purposeful strides, descending the stairs. “Daddy!” I’m hot on his heels as he disappears around the side of the house. “Daddy, please.”
The pleading tone in my voice has him coming to a sudden halt. “I’ve got to get these tables and chairs set up,” he says, still giving me his back. “Our guests will be here soon.”
“I’ll help.”
“I’m good … I think your mum needs you in the kitchen.”
“She sent me out here,” I reply with a crack in my voice. Over the past few weeks, he’s been pulling further and further away, and it’s tearing me up inside.
He swings around to face me, and when he sees the tears glistening in my eyes, he sighs. “I can’t do this right now, Angel.”
“When then? I’m leaving tomorrow.”
He turns his face away and stares off into the distance. “Don’t remind me.”
“I’m sorry that this is so hard for you, but I’m not a little girl anymore. It was inevitable I’d move out one day.”
“I know,” he says as his troubled green eyes move back to me. “I just … I don’t understand why you feel the need to move so far away. There’s nothing wrong with the university here. I attended there, and so did your grandfather. You seemed to enjoy your first two years. What’s changed?”
Nothing has changed, that’s the problem.
I take a step closer and reach for his hand. “Please don’t take this personally, but I’m an adult now … I’m about to turn twenty, and it’s time, Daddy.”
“Time for what?”
To get a life.
“To stand on my own two feet.”
“I don’t see why you need to move nine hundred kilometres away for some independence. You already have that here. I think your mother and I are pretty lenient on you and your brother.”
“On CJ you are, me not so much. He’s even allowed to have girls stay over.”
My dad converted one of the rooms on the bottom level of our house into a music studio for my brother. CJ is in a band and gets his musical talent from our mum. He sings, plays the guitar, piano, and drums.
His bandmates are here regularly for practice, and they’re always accompanied by random groupies. I’ve seen my brother disappear upstairs to his room with different ones from time to time.
Mum has an issue with this; my dad, not so much. “He’s a typical teenage boy, let him live. He’s responsible, and uses protection,” I heard him tell her.
Deep down, my little brother is a good kid, but he’s also a little wild and reckless. I’ve never done anything but follow the rules, yet I feel like I’m governed by an iron fist at times.
“You’ve had girls stay over too,” my dad says. “I don’t see the issue here.”
“Girls, yes … my friends, but I can’t even bring a guy through the front door without you going all daddy-bear on him and scaring him away.”
“You’re being melodramatic. I’m not that bad.”
“Am I? What did you say to the last guy I went on a date with? “Remember, whatever you do to my daughter, I’ll do the same to you.” Does that sound familiar? Or the time you told my prom date that I was your princess and not his conquest.”
“I let that kid … what was his name again?” He clicks his fingers a few times as he tries to think of it. “Benny? Bobby? The one with the thick, black-rimmed glasses?”
“Benjamin?”
“That’s it. I let him come inside. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I was very cordial to him.”
“Dad, I was twelve, and he was here to do a school assignment, not date me.”
“I was still nice to him though.”
“You sat at the table with us, glaring at him the entire time. The poor kid was on the verge of a panic attack. He couldn’t even look me in the eye after that.”
“Pfft,” he says as his lips quirk. “He sounds like a—”
I cut him off before he finishes his sentence. “This is part of the problem … you think it’s a big joke. This is my life you’re ruining.”
He rears his head back like I just slapped him. “You think I’m ruining your life?”
“No …” I blow out a puff of air. “Sometimes.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, baby girl. It’s just …” He shoves his hands into his pocket and bows his head. “I’ll do better.”
“You’d honestly be okay with me having a boyfriend and bringing him back to the house?”
“When you’re old enough, of course I would.”
“I’m almost twenty,” I shout.
“Almost being the operative word here.”
I throw my arms up in the air. “I’ve been a legal adult for two years.”
His face starts to turn red, and I can tell he’s on the verge of losing his temper. “Let me get this straight, you’re leaving your family and moving to the other side of the country because you want to be free to meet boys?”
“Firstly, I’m moving one state over, not the other side of the country. And no! I’m moving away to finish my degree. I just need some room to breathe while I do it.”
My confession must sting, because he spins around so sharply, that I feel a woosh of air hit my face. He starts stalking toward the outbuilding that houses the tables and chairs, and I just stand there watching him go.
My farewell and my dad’s birthday turned out to be a major bust … for the two of us anyway. I at least pretended to have a good time, but my father wore the longest and saddest face for the entire duration. You’d swear he was at a wake, not a celebration.
The guilt I feel about leaving is weighing heavily on my heart, but I know I’m doing the right thing for me. Especially since my brother and his best friend, Blake—Mason and Jacinta’s oldest—swiped a bottle of my father’s best scotch from the bar and snuck down to the beach to drink it. They’re seventeen … not even at the legal drinking age.
The pair of them were so drunk by the time they stumbled back up to the house, yet my dad never said a word. My uncles, Mason and Connor, thought it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen; Mum and Aunt Jacinta, not so much. My dad would’ve flipped his lid if I’d done something so irresponsible and reckless. Such double standards. It only cemented my decision to leave.
The gloom and doom continued at breakfast this morning; my stomach was tied so tightly in knots, that I could barely eat.
We’re now in the car en route to the airport. My mum is flying down with me to help me get settled. My dad is quiet in the driver’s seat, and my brother, who’s sitting beside me in the back, is looking awfully green … serves him right.
I lean in his direction, “You smell like a brewery,” I whisper. “And your skin is almost the same colour as your eyes.”
He gives my side a playful elbow, and I smile for the first time today. “And here I thought I was going to miss you.”
“You’ll miss me.”
“Like a hole in the head.”
“Hah!”
He blows out a long breath, resting his head back into the seat, and when he reaches for my hand and wraps it tightly in his, I know he’s struggling with me leaving as well. I feel selfish; I hate hurting the people I love, but I’m also a ticking time bomb—an accumulated bundle of frustration and hurt—and if I don’t do this, I know I’ll eventually implode.
I’ve always been the good girl, doing what she’s told … never making waves, but with that kind of life comes resentment. Over the past few years, it’s grown to the point I’m ready to burst at the seams. I’m not only doing this for me, I’m doing it for them too. I’ll end up lashing out and saying or doing something hurtful or stupid if I don’t. Things I can never take back or undo.
Once our luggage is checked in, we make our way towards the security area that leads to the departure gates. My mum is walking ahead of us, hand in hand with my dad. I can’t hear what she’s saying to him, but occasionally he’ll nod. Is she prepping him for our goodbye?
When we get to the point where they can go no further, we all stop. I hug my brother first. “I’m going to miss you,” I say. “So much.”
The entire second floor of our expansive home has always been ours. The bottom level is the main living area, and the third floor is our parents.
If CJ had a bad dream when he was little, or there was a big storm about, he’d come into my room in the middle of the night and climb into bed beside me. That kind of thing doesn’t happen now that we’re grown—he seems to be my protector these days, despite our age gap—but once upon a time, that job was mine.
“I’m going to miss you too, big sis. More than you know.”
“What are you going to do next time there’s a thunderstorm?”
“Very funny,” he says. “It’s been years since I snuck into your room.”
I release a small sigh. “I miss those days,” I whisper. I know I’m doing the best thing for me, but in this moment, the doubts are starting to set in. In a way, I’m saying goodbye to the only life I’ve ever known, and it’s way harder than I thought it would be. I squeeze him extra tight as I feel my emotions bubble to the surface. “I love you, Christopher James.”
“I love you too, Angel-cakes,” he whispers. “Be safe down there. I’ll come visit as soon as I can.”
“Please do.”
When I let him go, I turn towards my father, who’s now standing with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed.
I take a tentative step in his direction. I know he’s upset about me leaving, even more so since I told him the reasons why. But if he refuses to give me a proper goodbye, I don’t know what I’ll do. I love him, he’s always been my favourite person, so this standoff between us is tearing me apart.
“Bye, Daddy.”
His hands slide out of his pockets at the same time he raises his head, and when I see the tears glistening in his eyes, my heart squeezes in my chest. His big strong arms engulf me before I have a chance to speak, crushing my body to his. “Be safe, baby girl,” he pleads. “Please be safe.”
“I will,” I cry over a small sob.
He holds me to him for the longest time, and I just stand there, listening to the steady beat of his heart. That sound and the familiar scent of his cologne have always been a comfort. When he finally releases me, he cups my face in his hands. “Always remember you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, smarter than you think, and more beautiful than you could ever imagine.”
“I’m going to miss you so much, Daddy.”
“I’m going to miss everything about you. The house won’t seem the same without you in it. Who am I going to talk law with now? Your brother certainly isn’t interested.”
“Hey,” CJ gripes.
“We can still talk on the phone, or FaceTime. You know I’m going to need to pick your brains when my next assignment rolls around.”
“I’d like that,” he says, leaning in to place a lingering kiss on my forehead. When he draws back, his emerald-green eyes meet mine. “I trust you, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t.”
“I know you do,” I reply as a smile curves my lips. As my mother said, his overprotectiveness comes from a good place.
“I love you, baby girl, never forget that.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
He moves to his wife next and folds her in his arms. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
When he covers her mouth with his, my brother and I instinctively look away. I adore how deeply my parents love each other—and I can only hope to one day find a man that worships me as much as my father does my mother—but their public displays of affection can get a bit much at times.
I turn to glance at my dad before we disappear out of sight and blow a kiss in his direction. He catches it, like he always does, and slips it into his pocket for later. It’s our special thing and something we’ve done since I was a little girl. He blows one back and I do the same, placing my clutched fist over my heart before storing his kiss away for later. The smile he gives me in return has tears stinging the back of my eyes.
