Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
“It wasn’t your fault. You were a child. You were sick and wanted to go home. The only decent person in this whole scenario was Ollie—he came to get you.”
“And died because of it.”
“You didn’t pull the trigger. There is no fucking way you could have predicted what was going to happen. Nobody could.”
She looked at me, pain flowing from her eyes. “The day of Ollie’s funeral, Ronald told me he wished it had been me.”
Fucking hell. What kind of monster said that to a child? He knew she would carry those cruel words with her the rest of her life.
“The man who shot Ollie—was he convicted?”
“Yes, he went to jail, but he died there.”
“Ally, you have to know what happened was not your fault. Surely now, after all these years, you realize that.”
Didn’t she?
She shrugged, her voice almost robotic. “That’s not what I’ve been told for fourteen years. My phone call made him leave the house—it was my fault. I asked to stop for the soda. I’ve been trying to atone for fourteen years.”
“You can’t atone for this.”
“Exactly.”
“No. That’s not what I fucking mean. You can’t atone because there is nothing to atone for.” I stared, aghast. “I think you actually believe they’re right.” I leaned close, my voice firm. “They. Are. Wrong.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard all this time, Adam. What I’ve been trying to make up for since the day he died.”
Make up for? Jesus, on some level, she still believed it. She believed she was at fault. How was that possible?
“What do you mean?”
Her voice became bitter. “Ronald had no problem telling me it was my fault. He still reminds me. My selfishness cost him his only child. He said I owed him.”
“And how exactly did he collect on this debt?”
“By controlling my life. The behavior he expected from Ollie was now on me. I had to be perfect. I was only allowed A’s on my report card. There were no parties or dances or going to the movies. He sold the house, and we moved into a condo in town, and I went to a new school where I didn’t know anyone. My time was spent volunteering at places approved by Ronald. The only after-school activities I could be part of were ones he chose.” Once more, her voice became distraught. “Dance, language clubs, tennis—things to help make me better, in his eyes, not that it ever helped. I needed to be more graceful, a better athlete, smarter—” She stopped abruptly, shutting her eyes. Then she sighed. “My weekends were spent studying. If I went out, it was with them. The only people I associated with were those approved by Ronald. And there weren’t many friends. If—” She cleared her throat. “If I ever showed any feelings for someone, Ronald removed that person from my life.” Her tone became wistful. “I tried so hard to be what they wanted—to get them to love me. But I was never enough.”
Her pain was palpable. “You lived a solitary life.”
“Yes. I still do.”
I sat back in surprise. The person she was describing was different from the woman I thought her to be. The caring, lively person I saw at the hospital and last night. It was as if she lived two different lives, trying to please her parents—to have their love. An effort I already knew would never work, yet she couldn’t accept.
“What the hell did your mother think? Didn’t she try to stop this?”
“No. She became even more distant. She told me I was lucky Ronald hadn’t shipped me off to boarding school, or worse, divorced her. She was upset I almost cost her the lavish lifestyle she enjoyed.”
Rage tore through me at the callous indifference she’d experienced. Her parents should have been grateful she hadn’t been taken from them as well—not punished her for surviving it.
“Tell me you had some counseling.”
“No. Ronald didn’t believe in talking to strangers. Once I went to school, I was busy. I thought I had moved past it. I’d handled it—nothing was going to change at that point.”
Of course not. If she’d had counseling, she’d know all of this was bullshit, and his true nature would be revealed. She was wrong, though—she hadn’t handled anything. The past still held her in its grip.
I gazed at her, realizing how much she needed someone in her life to support and care for her. Someone on her side.
She needed me.
And given my reaction to her company, I needed her. We were meant for each other.
“How did you endure it all? End up where you are today?”
“I had a guardian angel.”
“Sorry?”
She was quiet for a moment, her gaze unfocused as she gathered her thoughts. “The one who gave me her car. An aunt of Ronald’s, Elena—Ollie’s godmother, actually. She’s the matriarch of the family, I suppose. One of the most cantankerous, grumpiest old women you’d ever want to meet—unless you truly know her. Ollie adored her, and I do too. She thought Ronald’s behavior was terrible and cruel. She was the only person I could talk to. But she never let him know how she felt or how fond of me she honestly was. She was the only one who told me what happened wasn’t my fault.”