Page 101 of Moving Forward

“Can I ask you something?”

“You know you can ask me anything,” she tells me sternly.

“Did you ever blame me because I was the reason you had to cut Dad out of your life?”

She gasps. “No, of course not! Did you ever think that?”

I think about lying, but then I nod. “Not because you ever treated me like I was. It was just always something I feared.”

“Well, don’t listen to that fear. I never thought that. Your father is to blame. There are days when I blame myself and your grandfather, of course—we raised him, after all. But we gave him everything he ever needed, loved him with all our hearts, and raised him to be a good man. The choices he made were his own.”

“What I did to him . . .”

“It was horrible,” Grams admits. “But you weren’t yourself. You were mourning. Today, you’re not the same man you were—you’re better because of all the obstacles you’ve faced. You’ve taken steps to improve yourself. If you were a bad person, you wouldn’t have.”

“Regardless, Grams, I just want to say I’m sorry. It couldn’t have been easy raising me—I know I was difficult.”

“You were a boy,” she emphasizes. “A boy without a mother and a father. It was to be expected.”

I reach across the table. “Well, I just want to say thank you. I might not have had a mother or a father, but I had you and Grandpa and that was enough. Better than enough. I love you.”

“I love you too, Cain,” she tells me as she bats tears away from her cheeks. “Now, do you know what you want to do yet? After you ride in like a white knight, sweep her off her feet, and marry her, that is.”

I roll my eyes, trying not to smile. “I still don’t know. I like this—I've always loved cooking.”

Grams hired me shortly after the therapy sessions started. I needed more income so I could save up for this next phase of my life. Particularly the engagement ring I’ve been carrying around. I ended up selling the boat and moving in with Grams, so I have that money and the inheritance my mom left me, but I wanted to do more. I don’t want to just get down on one knee for Max—I want to offer her a life.

“Maybe a diner is in your future too. It could be a family tradition. Except yours will be called Max’s. Your grandfather named this diner after me, you should name yours after her.”

“Maxie’s.”

“Does she go by that?”

“The Millers call her Maxie. Ethan started it.”

“I love that. A perfect combination of past and her future.” Grams places her hand over mine. “So, what are you going to do? Are you going to go to her?”

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MAX

The first month I didn’t hear from Cain, I knew it was too soon.

The second, I figured it was still too soon.

The third, I started to worry.

The fourth, I almost called him.

The fifth, I wondered if he still loved me.

This month, month six, I’ve been wondering if he ever even existed. Maybe he was just a fever dream.

Still, I've held out hope. Even when my mom urged me to reach out to him or when my grandpa suggested I move on, I hoped. I know in my heart Cain loves me just as much as I love him and that we belong together. I could spend the rest of my life waiting for him and still believe that on my deathbed. My hope will never waver when it comes to him.

It helps that Erin keeps me updated on Cain’s progress. He spends a lot of time with them. He almost sounds like he’s become an entirely different person and I can’t wait to get the chance to know him. She even sent me a picture she took of him on the sly, while he was playing with Liv. His smile was genuine, and he looked so . . . healthy. I desperately wanted more—I wanted to see him in person.

Someday.

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