Total pages in book: 198
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
“My mom didn’t even try to be a good mom. I can’t think of a single positive memory of her. My oldest brother does, I think, maybe the one right after him too, but that’s it. I’m never going to look back and think of her fondly. I don’t feel like I missed out on anything with her, and that’s shitty. I feel bad for her, for what she had to have gone through, but I didn’t ask for it either, and I got it anyway. But Amos, I asked for. I wanted him. I wanted to do better than what I’d known.”
I reached behind him and took his palm in mine, and when that didn’t seem like enough, I cupped the back of it with my other hand too, cocooning it completely with my own.
He squeezed it, his gray eyes roaming over my face. “Maybe that’s the thing about being a parent: you can just hope what you’ve done is enough. If you care. You hope that the love you gave them, if you really tried, will stay with your child when they’re older. That they can look back on what you did and be content. You hope that they know happiness. But there’s no way of knowing, is there?”
This man . . . I didn’t know what I would have done without him.
Pressing my lips together, I nodded, tears filling my eyes. Slowly, I lowered my head, until his fist rested against my cheek, and I told him in a croak, “He loves you, Rhodes. He told me not too long ago that he wanted you to be happy. I could tell from the moment I met you both that you loved him more than anything. I’m sure that’s why Billy and Sofie didn’t hound you about stuff or tell you that you needed to worry. If you hadn’t been doing enough . . . if you hadn’t been there for him enough . . . I’m sure they would have said something.” I tried to suck in a breath, but it came in choppy. “Good parents don’t have to be perfect. Just like you love your kid even when they’re not.”
The choke that gripped my throat was sudden and harsh, the slide of several more tears wetting my cheeks. I hiccupped; then I hiccupped again. And something—his hand, it had to be his hand—stroked the back of my head, his fingers combing through my loose hair; I hadn’t brushed it since I’d showered. His words were soft as he said, “I know. I know you miss her. Just like you could tell I love Am, I can tell you loved your mom.”
“I really did. I really do,” I agreed, sniffling, feeling my chest crack with love and grief. “It finally just feels . . . final, and it makes me sad, but it makes me mad too.”
He stroked my hair then my cheeks, over and over, my tears eventually spilling through his fingers, over the backs of his hands as he touched my face. Opening a dam with so many of the words I’d shared with my therapist over the last few days. But it was different with him.
“I’m so fucking angry, Rhodes. At everything. At the world, at God, at myself, and sometimes even at her. Why did she have to go on that stupid fucking hike in the first place? Why couldn’t she have done the trail she’d planned on taking? Why hadn’t she just waited for me to go with her? You know? I hate being mad, and I hate being sad, but I can’t help it. I don’t get it. I feel so confused,” I told him in a rush, taking one of his hands and squeezing it tight.
“At the same time, I’m so glad she was found, but I miss her, and I feel so guilty again. Guilty about stuff that I’ve worked out, things that I know I shouldn’t feel bad about. That none of what happened was my fault, but . . . it hurts. Still. And it’s always going to hurt. I know that. It’s supposed to. Because you don’t love someone and lose them and keep on going the rest of your life complete.
“I wonder too . . . did she know? Did she know I loved her? Does she know how much I miss her? How much I still wish she was around? Does she know that I turned out okay for the most part? That I had people who loved me and took care of me, or did she worry about what was going to happen? I hope she knows everything ended up okay, because I can’t bear to think that she worried.” My voice cracked over and over again, most of my words rambling and probably unintelligible, my tears soaking into the skin of the hand that was still touching my cheeks.