Quick on the heels of my orgasm, Caine’s hips stilled and then jerked as his own climax tore through him.
I stroked his back in leisurely wonder. “I’ve never been this happy,” I whispered, a little scared by it.
Caine must have heard the fear, because he kissed my neck, tightened his hold on me, and said, “Me neither. But we’ll get used to it.”
“Promise?”
He lifted his head to meet my gaze. “No, because on second thought I don’t want to get used to it. If you get used to it—”
“You forget to be thankful for it,” I finished.
He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
I thought about our rough starts in life, Caine’s of course more so than mine. I thought about our rough last few weeks, mine more so than Caine’s.
I brushed my thumb over his lower lip. “I don’t think we’ll ever forget to be thankful.”
“No. I don’t suppose we will.”
Later that day while Caine was at work, I received a call from my father. It wasn’t the easiest conversation, and I wasn’t sure there ever would be easiness between us. My father was going to be in my life when my case against Matthew and Holts went to court because he was obviously a very important witness. But there were no promises from either of us that there would be a future in the cards. Honestly it seemed pretty impossible with Caine between us.
I had to wonder, even if I wanted my father back in my life, would I have tried to make a place for him in it? Or would I have chosen Caine over him? I wasn’t sure what the answer would be, but I was stunned and a little disconcerted by the little voice inside me that whispered I would always choose Caine.
And then I realized that wasn’t quite true.
I think that I would choose Caine over nearly anyone … but if we had children they would always come first. I also knew enough about the man I loved to know that he would feel the same way. So many adults hadn’t taken him into consideration when he was a child. In the past few weeks Caine had mentioned “our children” in this offhand manner that made me smile—like kids with me was a given now that he’d admitted he loved me.
He would never put a kid through anything like what he’d been through.
Neither would I.
That realization made me think of my mom. It made me think of what Caine had said to me all those months ago at Good Harbor Beach.
So I sat down to have one last conversation with my mother in the hopes of freeing myself of some that hurt.
CHAPTER 33
Dear Mom,
The greatest lesson you taught me is that parents’ actions and choices resonate into their child’s life, sometimes affecting them in a way it never should. I wish your greatest lesson to me could be more positive, because the truth is that’s who you were—an optimistic, warm, sweet woman. But you were also weak. And I have to forgive you for your weakness, because at the end of the day we all have our weaknesses. I wanted to tell you that you hurt me when you chose my father over me. I wanted to tell you that I’ll never understand how you could love him so deeply when he could never love anyone as much as he loved himself. And I wanted to tell you that I realize now that it was never up to me to understand.
I’m sorry for putting you in a position where you had to choose between us.
You can’t help whom you love.
Watching you waste your sweet heart on my father paralyzed me. For the longest time I deliberately avoided ever feeling about someone the way you felt about him. Because of that I sometimes felt like there were days that I was just sitting watching life pass me by. The hell of it all was that it never even occurred to me to flag it down and ask it for a ride.
Until Caine came along. And there was no choice in it for me. Just as I now realize there was probably no choice in it for you.
I forgive you for loving Dad.
I even forgive you for loving him more than me.
But I’ll never forget.
The greatest lesson I teach my kids won’t be the same you taught me.
It won’t be the lesson Caine’s parents taught him either.
I don’t know what it’ll be yet.
I just know there will never be a day that passes my kids by when they don’t know that there is no one in this world they can count on more than me.
I don’t mean to make you feel guilty, Mom. I just needed to finally tell you how I feel so I can move on. The past is the past and I’m letting go of it and all the anger that comes with it. I’m trying out this thing called peace, and I’m hoping that wherever you are you can find that peace too knowing that I’m letting the ugliness of the past go, and knowing that no matter what I loved you.
And I know you loved me.