Finding Forgiveness: Second Chance Romance/Enemies to Lovers, page 7
It is just the three of us women in the kitchen. Connor has moved into the front room with his dad, Mason, and Blake. I’m grateful for the reprieve. Initially, I had the six of them sitting around the table watching me. It was daunting to say the least.
Picking up half of my sandwich, I bring it to my mouth. Food is the last thing I feel like, but Grace went to the trouble of making it for me, so the least I can do is eat it. Or try to. I take a tentative bite before placing the rest back down on the plate. She’s a great cook and she’s added lettuce and mayo, which is my favourite. On any other day, I know this sandwich would taste delicious, but for some reason, I feel like I’m chewing on a piece of cardboard.
I manage to force down the rest of that half, but I can’t stomach anything else at the moment. Grace stands and collects my plate when I push it away. “Why don’t you go upstairs and have a lie down, Cass? You’ve had a big day. I’ll make up one of the spare rooms for you since Mason is bunking in with Jacinta.”
“I’ve already made one up for her,” Connor says, appearing in the doorway of the kitchen. “I’ve put her in the room next to mine.” Next to him? “I want her close.”
A grin tugs at my lips as I bow my head, shielding it from the others in the room.
“That’s good,” Grace replies, and when I side-eye Jacinta, I find her smiling adoringly at her brother.
“Come,” Connor offers, appearing beside my chair. “I’ve already taken your things up there.”
I grasp his hand when he extends it to me, and he helps me stand. “Thank you,” I say to him before moving my attention to his mother. “And thanks for the sandwich.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie. I’ll get one of the kids to come up and get you in a few hours, when dinner’s ready.”
“Okay,” I say with a nod.
My heart does a little flutter in my chest when Connor doesn’t let go of my hand and guides me out of the kitchen. His fingers are still wrapped in mine as he leads me up the stairs. When we reach the landing, he navigates us to the right.
“That’s my room there,” he states, pointing to it as we pass. I have to refrain from rolling my eyes. I practically lived here when I was growing up, and was very aware of where his room was. I may not have ever stepped inside it, but I knew which one was his. Especially, when we were seeing each other.
Back then, I used to sleep in Jacinta’s room, beside her, and I can’t even tell you how many times I wanted to sneak down the hallway and slide under his covers. The struggle was real. It felt like a form of torture. As much as I loved my time with his sister, I was totally besotted with her brother. Whenever I was around him, I always ached for his touch, and when I wasn’t I would internally pine for him.
We enter the room beside his. It’s another one I haven’t been in before. We never ventured down this end of the house, it always seemed like Connor’s domain. It’s decorated beautifully, just like the rest of this place. Apart from the dark teal feature wall behind the head of the bed, this room is light and airy. The other three walls are painted a bright white, and there are two large windows down one side, looking out over the expansive backyard and pool area. The furniture is light oak, and the bedding is white, with a throw rug and cushions that tie in with the teal wall.
“I’ve put fresh sheets on the bed for you.”
“You have?” I ask with wide eyes.
“Don’t look so surprised, I’ve been living on my own for the past two years, I’ve become very self-sufficient,” he replies, chuckling. I watch on as he moves further into the room and lifts my suitcase, laying it down on the wooden bench seat that sits at the foot of the bed. “Would you like some help unpacking?”
“No, but thank you for the offer.”
I cross to where he’s standing and unzip my bag, flipping open the lid. “Did you rob a jewellery store?” he asks, looking down at the chaos before us, and I’m not just talking about the knot of jewellery. All my clothes are balled up and stuffed in. It’s not the usual order I like when packing, but in my defence, I was in a hurry to get out of there.
“It’s my safety net … I’m sure you heard my mother when we were leaving. She’s probably already cut off my credit card and frozen my bank account. Sadly, this is what my life has resorted to … pawning my things until I can find my feet.”
I lean forward and start picking through the tangled mass of diamonds and gold … there are rings, necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and bangles. I left the pearl necklace behind. It was a silent fuck you to my mother. My days of being a showpiece—a politician’s daughter—are over.
I’ve accumulated a lot of jewellery over the years. Not all of it was bought by me. My parents liked to shower me with expensive gifts for birthdays and Christmas, but it was their love I wanted most. Material things mean nothing to me. My mother’s generosity was all show.
“Cass,” he says, reaching up to grasp my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “You don’t need to sell your things; I’ll take care of you.”
I dip my face and swallow thickly. This man. I don’t deserve his compassion or kindheartedness. “I couldn’t ask you to do that, Con,” I say, choking on my words.
“Hey.” He turns me to face him and wraps me in his big strong arms. When he rests his chin on top of my head, the tears start to fall. I’m an emotional wreck, and I hate that he’s witnessing it. “You are surrounded by people who care about you … things may seem hopeless right now, but you are so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. Accepting help doesn’t make you weak, Cass. It requires strength, and you have that in bucket loads.”
He’s always had the capability of being able to lift you and make you feel like you’re more than you are. I tilt my head back so I can see his handsome face. “I don’t deserve you, Connor Maloney.”
He reaches up to gently brush away my tears with his thumb. “You deserve the world, Cass. Don’t let anyone ever make you feel like you don’t.”
“Thank you. I may not deserve your kindness, especially because of the way I’ve treated you in the past, but I want you to know that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I know it’s six years too late, but I’m sorry for hurting you.” I’m sorry for so much.
“People hurt each other, Cass … it’s what we do. Whether it’s intentionally, unintentionally or regretfully. It’s part of life, but the beauty of the human race is we have the ability to heal and to find forgiveness … so if it’s any consolation, I forgive you.” Those words only seem to bring on more tears. Would he forgive me if he knew the truth? I very much doubt it. He leans in and places a chaste kiss on my forehead before letting me go and retreating a step. “You start unpacking your clothes, and I’ll tackle these,” he says, reaching into my suitcase to scoop up the tangled jewellery.
“You don’t have to help me.”
“I want to,” he says, taking a seat on the side of the bed and getting to work.
A grin plays on my lips. I know we can never get back what we once had … too much has happened, but I hope that going forward we can at least be friends.
Chapter 8
Connor
Once Cassie has unpacked all of her things and put them away, and I finish untangling her jewellery, I leave her and head to my own room. As much as I wanted to stay, I could tell she was exhausted.
I feel like we have made a lot of progress today, and I’m somewhat lighter for it. I’m still hurt by everything that has happened in the past, but I meant it when I said I forgave her. I’ve seen how controlling her mother is over the past two days, and my gut tells me there’s a chance she had something to do with Cass’s decisions back then. I may not agree with the way she went about it; I feel like I deserved more than what she gave me, but if it’s going to help her heal, then I need to let it go.
I’m now lying on my back on the bed with my hands resting behind my head. My mind is going a hundred miles an hour as I stare up at the ceiling. It’s not going to be easy just being friends, especially considering I want so much more, but it has to be better than the animosity we’ve shown towards each other over the past six years.
It was draining and only seemed to cause the open wounds I’d been carrying around to fester. For that split second, I’d take pleasure in the cruel comments I’d sling her way, but that satisfaction never lasted long. I was always left feeling like an arsehole. That’s not the kind of person I am, but a broken heart can make you do unspeakable things.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when my phone starts to ring. When I pull it out of my pocket and glance at the screen, I see it’s an unknown number. I usually ignore those, but given everything that is going on, I decide to answer it.
“Hello.”
“Mr Maloney?” the male voice asks.
“Yes,” I answer.
“This is Bradford Lewis, Cassandra’s father.”
I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. “Mr Lewis,” I say. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve just had a very distressing phone call from my wife informing me that you are keeping my daughter against her will.”
Wow. “That’s interesting since it was your wife that was holding her prisoner.”
“I don’t believe you. Amanda may be a little strict on our daughter occasionally, but Cassandra has always lived a pretty carefree life.”
“If that is so, then why did I have to go with two police officers in tow to get her out from under your wife’s clutches?”
“I don’t appreciate your implications, young man.”
“And I don’t appreciate yours. Did your wife inform you that your daughter has been in the hospital for the past two days?”
“No. Why was she in the hospital?”
“She was actually in intensive care after a failed suicide attempt.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I? Why don’t you ask your wife, or better still call the hospital where she works? I believe it was her that informed the staff not to notify you.”
“My wife would never do something like that?”
I scoff at his reply. This guy is delusional, or he’s been living with his head buried in the sand for far too long. “I guess you don’t know your wife as well as you think then. Not only did my mother and I have to sit by your daughter’s bedside because neither of her parents were there when she needed them most. But the one time your wife did bother to show up, she told Cassandra that it would be better for everyone if she didn’t wake up—”
“Now listen here,” he shouts, cutting me off. “My wife loves her daughter; she’d never say such a despicable thing.”
“I’m not finished … and I was standing right there and heard every hateful word that spewed from her mouth. She told her she regretted the day she was born and would’ve aborted her if it wasn’t for you wanting an heir. That’s not motherly love, Mr Lewis. Your wife is a vile human being.”
“Put my daughter on the phone,” he orders.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Your daughter is resting, but I’ll tell her you called. She may not be able to call you back though, since your wife confiscated her phone and cut her off financially.”
“Put Cassandra on the phone this instant, or I’ll contact the police.”
“Be my guest. They are well aware of what’s going on. Hence why they went to the house to perform a welfare check on her. Your daughter came with us willingly, despite your wife’s attempt to keep her there against her will.”
“You haven’t heard the last of me,” he barks down the line before ending the call.
And here we go.
Cassandra’s mother may be a top-notch surgeon, but the worst thing she can do to me is remove a vital organ and sell it on the black market. Her father, on the other hand, is a powerful politician with friends in high places. He has the means to undo all the good that I’ve accomplished, and I can only hope for his daughter’s sake he doesn’t.
I’m feeling like shit by the time I make it downstairs for breakfast. I tossed and turned all night, despite being dead on my feet. I’ve barely slept in the past five days and I’m running on empty. My call with Cassandra’s father is what kept me up. I have no clue what their next move might be, but I think it’s time we left Melbourne and headed back to Sydney.
“Morning, Mum,” I say placing a kiss on the side of her head.
“Morning, sweetheart.”
I nod at my father across the table as I take a seat. “Dad.”
“Son,” he answers, peering at me over the top of the newspaper he’s reading. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Honestly … like shit. I barely slept.”
“You’re worried about, Cass?” my mum asks, placing a cup of coffee down in front of me and rubbing her hand down my arm.
“Her dad called me yesterday afternoon.”
That news has my father sitting up straighter in his seat and placing the paper down on the table. “He did? What did he want?”
“He was under the impression that we were keeping Cass here against her will.”
“That’s bullshit,” he snaps.
“I know. I informed him of that, but I still hold concerns. I’m not sure what his plans are going forward, so I’m thinking of taking Cassie back to Sydney today. Her father has connections in Melbourne … she’d be a lot safer away from here.”
“I have connections here too, Son. Cassandra isn’t a minor, so there’s not much they can do.”
“I still don’t trust them.”
Our conversation is cut short when Blake comes barrelling into the kitchen. “Grandma,” he shrieks, running over to wrap his arms around her waist. “Can I have chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast please?”
My mum leans down and kisses the top of his head. “You can have whatever you like, sweetheart.”
I find myself smiling as I watch them. Although Blake has only been in her life for a short time and is not her biological grandson, you can see the love she holds for him. It makes me sad to think I’ll never be able to give her grandkids. It’s not that I don’t want to be a father, because I do, I just can’t see myself settling down.
My sister and her fiancé enter the kitchen a few minutes later, looking all loved up. Mason takes a seat next to me and proceeds to punch me in the arm. “You look like shit,” he says.
“Fuck …” My words die off when I get a scathing look from my father.
Jacinta kisses Mum and then moves over to wrap her arms around Dad’s neck. “Morning, Daddy,” she says. I use his distraction to flip Mason the bird.
“Is Cass coming down?” I ask.
“Yeah, she’ll be down in a minute,” Jacinta answers. “She’s just getting dressed.”
I had to fight the urge to not check on her throughout the night, or again this morning when I woke. She was so close, yet she seemed so far away. I know it’s going to be a struggle having her living with me full-time, but it’s a small price to pay to keep her safe.
After taking a sip of my coffee, I pull out my phone and start searching for flights. “When do you guys plan on heading home?” I ask, looking between my sister and Mason.
“Not sure,” Jacinta says with a shrug.
“I think Cass and I will leave today if I can get us on a flight.”
“Why so soon?” she asks, frowning.
“I think the sooner I get her away from Melbourne, the better.”
“You’re probably right. Maybe we should leave too,” she says, looking over at her fiancé for confirmation.
“I understand why you have to go, but I wish it wasn’t so soon,” my mother chimes in. “It’s been nice having you all home again.”
Mason reaches for Jacinta, dragging her down onto his lap and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. “I’m cool with whatever you want to do, babe.”
Am I an arsehole for being envious of their relationship?
I look away just as Cassie enters the room. Our eyes instantly lock and my stomach does a stupid flip-flop. My gaze scans over her face, she looks well rested, and dare I say beautiful. She’s wearing make-up this morning, and her long hair is down and styled in loose waves. She’s dressed to the nines—back to her regular attire. At first glance, you wouldn’t know she’d been to hell and back, but I see through her façade.
The casually dressed Cassandra I saw yesterday is the real her. As stunning as this version is, her hair, flawless make-up, and fancy clothes are simply a shield. A diversion from what’s going on underneath. If you stare long enough, you’ll see it. The sadness in her eyes is unmissable, to me anyway.
She’s haunted. By what? I don’t know. Her mother maybe? But it’s something I’ve noticed many times over the years. Her armour is a distraction. Like smoke and mirrors. I know this woman better than she thinks.
I got to know the real Cassandra when we were younger, the person she is deep down. I’ve watched her transition since then. We may not be together anymore, but I continued to observe from the sidelines. She’s like a trainwreck—as much as I want to, I can’t look away.
“Morning,” I say, smiling up at her.
“Morning.”
“Did you sleep alright?” I ask, rising and pulling out the seat beside me.
“Thank you,” she says as she sits, and it doesn’t go unnoticed that she avoided answering my question.
“Are you hungry?”
“A little,” she answers, lifting one shoulder.
She barely ate any of her dinner last night, which troubled me. I know her whole world has been turned upside down, but she needs to keep up her strength. I’ll protect her with everything I have, but my gut tells me we’re going to have a battle on our hands going forward.
Around midmorning, the doorbell rings and my gut churns. “Are you expecting anyone?” I ask my mum.
