Chapter 34: I'm Sorry

"You got this, Cassie," Aaron says from beside me. I don't turn my head away from staring at my front door, the dread the only thing I can think about. "It's going to be easy; they're not going to hate you."

I find myself hoping my parents-who-aren't-actually-my-parents aren't home; I've known them for my whole life, though, so I know, unless they got called into the office on an emergency, they're home, sitting inside.

She's probably making fun of his awful attempts at cooking dinner before she takes over, and he's probably making fun of her awful taste in music, something that always happens on a Sunday night.

I scoff. "Easy my ass. I told them to leave me alone and then proceeded to ignore them and not talk to them for almost a week and a half. If I was them, I would be pretty upset."

I see him shake his head out of the corner of my eye. "Just do it. You'll be fine."

I nod to myself, trying to let his words give me the confidence that I'm lacking. "Yeah. I'll be fine." Aaron gently places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes, and when I turn my head to meet his eyes, I see that they're filled with warmth and something else. A look that says he believes in me, that he believes I can do this. "I got this."

He shoots me his smile—temporarily distracting me with the sight of his dimples—and walks down the porch stairs, leaving me standing outside the door by myself, heading back to his house.

Soon after he walks off the porch steps, moving farther and farther away from me, all the doubt that had momentarily left my mind when he looked into my eyes comes flooding back, and I have to fight back the urge to follow him.

They hate you. They're never going to forgive you. Ever. You were just a burden on them, and they're glad to be rid of you. They're better off without you so you might as well leave them alone.

I can't do this. I can't.

Why did I let Aaron try to convince me this was a good idea?

I turn around to leave, but I don't take more than a few steps.

"Cassie," comes Aaron's harsh whisper. "Knock on the fucking door."

Fuck.

I turn my head to look at him.

"I don't think I can do this," I hiss back. "Not today. Maybe tomorrow."

He stares at me before he turns to go inside, shooting a "Stay there," over his shoulder.

I turn back around and wait impatiently on the porch of my house, and I'm about to run back over to Aaron's house when he comes back outside, his phone pressed to his ear.

"Yes, sir, open your door. There's a surprise for you."

My eyes widen.

He didn't.

My front door opens and I come face to face with two very shocked people.

He did not.

I shoot a glare at Aaron, who shrugs.

"I'll be inside if you need me," he says before he walks back into his house, closing the door behind him.

Fucking asshole.

I glare at Aaron's closed door, willing him to come back outside and take me back into his house.

After a couple of seconds, it's obvious that he's not going to do that, so I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what's about to happen.

"Sweetie..."

I have to resist the urge to throw myself at the two of them and pull them in for a hug. That one word from her makes me want to cry and apologize for everything.

Even though everything in me is screaming at me to make things right with them, I want answers more; I want to know why they kept that big of a secret from me for so long.

And the thing that scares me the most is that I won't love them after they tell me.

What if I, after knowing exactly why they did what they did, can't bring myself to care, can't bring myself to have sympathy? What if I, after being told in more detail what's happening with my father and him trying to get custody over me, decide that it would be simpler to just avoid all contact with the three of them? What if I don't love them anymore?

But then Aaron's words come back to me.

"Even though your parents aren't biologically related to you in the parent-child way, they're still your parents; they raised you, were there for you for most of your life."

The man who killed his wife and almost killed his child isn't my father; my father is standing behind me, worried for me, worried that I won't love him anymore. The woman who was murdered by her husband—though I wish I could've gotten to know her—isn't my mother; my mother is standing behind me, wishing I would come back to them, wishing I would forgive them.

My parents are standing right in front of me—my family is in that house—and all I need to do is turn around and realize that, all I need to do is look into their eyes and see that they still want me as a daughter—as part of their family—and see that they forgive me.

The light touch on my arm prompts me to do just that.

There are tears in Mom's eyes, and in Dad's, and in mine.

We're all crying, together, and before I can even take a step forward, they're right in front of me, wrapping their arms around me, pulling me into their warmth, their familiar warmth, and the sense of comfort and stability and rightness I feel at that moment is enough to make me cry harder.

"I'm sorry," I choke out, closing my eyes, pulling them closer to me. "I'm so, so, so, sorry."

"It's okay, sweetie," Mom says, and I feel myself relax at the term of endearment she always calls me; it tells me that she forgives me, that she still loves me, that we're okay. "It's okay."

Maybe I'm forgiving them too fast, maybe I need to dwell on the issue a little longer, think about what forgiving them means, but it doesn't matter to me.

I just want my parents back.

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"What happened?" Aaron asks me when I enter his house on my crutches, standing up from his couch to move closer to me.

"What, you weren't watching out of the window?" I ask him, an eyebrow raised. That's what I expected him to do, honestly.

But he shakes his head. "I didn't think I should. So, what happened?"

"We talked," I tell him. And it's not like I'm lying; after crying and hugging for a little longer, we talked about...everything. About my murderer of a father, about the custody fight, about Kyle, about Gabs, about my feelings for Aaron, everything. "And cried a little bit. But, yeah, we're good now. I forgave them, for the most part, and they still love me."

He furrows his eyebrows, looking confused. "So—not that I'm complaining or anything, believe me, I'm not—but why are you back here?"

That's where the not-so-good part comes in.

"I just, I told them I still needed space. I want to think over everything they told me by myself and try to sort my mind out, even though I've forgiven them for keeping that big of a secret from me."

I don't really know why. I do forgive them and I don't hold it against them, but I still want this time by myself to evaluate my feelings for everything. I've been holding everything in for far too long, and I think I need to come to terms with everything before I try to jump right back into my life.

"Cassie?"

"What?" I say, snapping out of my thoughts. "Sorry."

He eyes me. "It's okay. I asked if you were going to go to sleep now."

I nod my head. "Sure." He walks closer to me and I shift my weight. "Um, what are you do—"

My words get cut off when Aaron scoops me into his arms, leaving the crutches leaning against the couch, and starts to walk me up the stairs. He deposits me on the bed in the guest bedroom, but I sit up when he turns to walk away.

"Aaron?" He stops walking and turns back around to look at me. I bite my lip. "Never mind."

"What were you going to say?"

I shake my head. "Nothing, it's fine. Good night."

He stares at me for a few seconds before he turns back around and closes the door, staying in the room. Walking back over to me, he speaks. "You want me to stay, Cassie?"

I hesitate, but I end up nodding, and he walks closer, putting a knee on the bed, and picks me up, moving me closer to the other side of the bed. He gets under the covers, helping me too, and, still facing me, he wraps his arms around me, pulling my head into his neck and burying his face into my hair. I feel him take a deep breath in, and I relax.

He always manages to make me feel safe and comforted when he sleeps with me like this; it was something I only experienced with Kyle, but now, with Aaron, it's so much stronger and better.

For a while, I thought that the only person I would love—the only person that was capable of loving me—was Kyle. Even after he cheated on me and we broke up, my feelings for him didn't quite change; I still loved him.

Aaron gives me a reason to hope that other people will love me, and I'll love other people. If Aaron and I don't work out—he's still, unfortunately, dating Tiffany—I know that I'm not doomed to stay in love with the same guy that broke my heart all those years ago.

At the beginning of the school year, I didn't see myself loving Aaron. I saw myself liking him—which I fought against so hard—but not loving him.

Now, though, I can see it.

I can see myself falling in love with him—I'm pretty sure I'm already halfway there.

And even though that's a terrifying thought, I trust Aaron. Which is also a terrifying thought because I never thought I'd ever trust a guy again.

"Cassie?" comes Aaron's soft murmur from above me.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry for not realizing it earlier."

Oh. Me liking him. Wasn't expecting that.

"It's okay."

Is it? If he had known, would he still would've been dating Tiffany, and I would still have gotten in that accident, and I still would've ran into Kyle, and he still would've called me.

All the bad things that have happened over the last few months still would've happened, so is it okay that he didn't know how I felt about him?

Almost as if he's hearing my thoughts, Aaron pulls me tighter against him, still being careful with my leg and ribs. "I know it might not have changed anything, but I'm still sorry."

"It's okay," I say again, this time meaning it a little more than I did before.

I want to ask him if he thinks we'll ever gave a chance to be together—if he'll ever break up with Tiffany—but I don't.

I'm not entirely sure I want to know the answer.

My phone vibrates on the nightstand, and I remove myself from Aaron's grip and roll to face away from him to check it.

Kyle: I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said

Kyle: can we talk?

Kyle: tomorrow at the park u used to take Snow

Kyle: please?

I don't want to—I really don't want to—but I think I owe it to him.

I can't forgive him. I won't forgive him. I'll just listen to him, get some closure.

Me: one o'clock

This is such a stupid thing to do but, like we've already come to know, I'm an idiot.

"Who is it?"

I open my mouth to tell Aaron, but I hesitate. He's not going to like the truth.

So I lie.

"Nobody," I say, rolling back towards him with a smile, allowing him to pull me back into his embrace.

My smile falls away as soon as Aaron can't see my face anymore, and I stare over his shoulder, the guilt already threatening to consume me.

I guess I'm not sleeping tonight.

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Don't lie, guys; lying is bad.

Thank you to everybody reading this story! We jumped from 1.5K to over 3K in just the span of under three days, and I'm so grateful for everybody that decided to read this book. (We're currently at just under 3.5K; crazy, right?)

I've overcome that writer's block that was affecting the last few chapters; this one is a little over 2000 words. I feel better now.

To reiterate what I've already said, this book is not going to have more than 40 to 45 chapters, so we're literally so close to the end. Thank you for sticking with me! I'm working on another story idea right now—which is partly why I didn't update on Monday—and I cannot wait until the first chapter is out.

How do you guys feel about another update in addition to this one?

--Rose