Page 81 of Before I Loved You

“No one?” I hold her tighter.

She shakes her head.

“It’s been just me for a long time now.” She sits up, looking down at my chest as she traces a circle on my skin, keeping herself distracted. “When I was seven, my mom was diagnosed with an aggressive form of breast cancer. The doctors told us to prepare for the worst, and, well, that’s exactly what happened. She died… She died on my eighth birthday,” she whispers.

“Jesus, Sarah. I had no idea.”

“How would you when I never told you or anyone?” She tries to smile, but it falters as she shakes her head. “After that, my dad went down a bad spiral of depression. He stopped going to work. He stopped showing interest in everything he once loved. He stopped caring about anything and everyone, including me. And it was on the one-year anniversary of my mom’s death, my ninth birthday, that I came home from camp and found a couple of police officers and a service worker waiting for me.”

Her fingers pause on my skin as my heart beats rapidly beneath her touch, knowing and fearing where this story is going.

“They were waiting for me because…my dad had an accident. His car veered off the main bridge in our town, and he didn’t make it.” She shakes her head, drowning in her memories. “I knew. I just knew in my heart it wasn’t an accident. I saw the way my mom’s death affected him. I saw how it destroyed him. And I knew how much he missed her and wanted to be with her again.” She blinks away the fresh tears clinging to her lashes. “I love my dad so much. He was caring and kind, and I know how much he was hurting to have done to himself what he did, but…I’ve never been able to forgive him for putting me through that. For…leaving me when he was the only person I had left in my life.”

I hold her tighter, needing her to know I’m here.

She’s not alone anymore.

I catch the tears sliding off her chin, her bottom lip shuddering under my touch.

“I’m so sorry, Sarah.” What is the right thing to say to this? She lost both of her parents within a year of each other on her fucking birthday. One from cancer and one from taking their own life.

“I didn’t have any family who could take me in, so I was sent to a group foster home, where they tried to help me find my forever home like some sad puppy. But I didn’t. I was moved from home to home, but no one wanted the quiet, depressed little girl. Can’t say that I blame them.” She lifts a shoulder. “But the second I turned eighteen, I came into some money my parents had left for me in their will. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to help cover what my scholarship wouldn’t for LU, and it paid for a roof over my head. I was lucky in that regard,” she says quietly. “My mom left me, even without meaning to. My dad left me purposely. And every foster home left me feeling unwanted and a little more broken. They all just…let me go.”

Her words leave a gaping hole in my pounding heart, my chest aching unbearably.

Silence fills the air around us, her eyes appearing translucent as she copes with releasing her story out loud for what I assume is the first time.

Her trust in me to share her story causes a rush of protectiveness to swarm within me. “I’m not letting you go, Sarah.”

Her eyes hold mine, void of any emotion, as tears continue to trickle down her face.

She doesn’t believe me. And why would she when no one has ever stayed?

My fingers glide over her cheeks, wiping away every tear from her face. “So, when we met on your birthday, and you told me to make you forget, you meant—”

“Yeah.” A forced half smile appears. “I don’t know why. Maybe it was because it was my twenty-first birthday, or maybe it was because…” She shakes her head, lost in thought until her eyes catch mine. “I never did thank you for that night. You were the best distraction I could have ever asked for.”

“Sarah, you never have to thank me for that. That night…” I grip her chin. “I don’t want to scare you away, but the night I met you was the best night of my life. It’s me who should be thanking you.”

She looks down, biting her bottom lip as the prettiest shade of pink covers her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through all this alone,” I offer. “But thank you for telling me. I can’t even imagine how hard life has been for you. How lonely it’s been.”

I’m starting to wonder if this is maybe why she distances herself from people. She’s been alone for so long, taking care of herself, that she doesn’t know what it means to have someone take care of her—someone in her corner who wants to be there for her no matter what.

Someone who won’t let her go.

She shrugs it off. “I’ve had over a decade to grieve. You’d think I could talk about this without crying.” She rubs a spot on my chest where a few tears landed.

“There’s no time limit on grieving. I still miss my dad every damn day.”

She nods. “I thought since you lost your dad, you would understand the feeling,” she admits in a broken whisper.

I hold her tighter, wishing I could take away her pain and sorrow. “I understand the feeling of losing a parent. But Sarah, I still had my mom and brothers and a roof over my head. What you went through is beyond words. It’s nothing I can comprehend, and I don’t even know the right thing to say to you because I’m starting to think there isn’t a ‘right thing’ to say.” I let out a rush of air. “Family is the most important thing to me. I don’t know what I would do without mine. They have my back every day of the year. They’re there for me even when I’m not there for myself. But you lost your whole family, and that’s…” I stop myself when I see her suck in her trembling bottom lip. “I’m here, Sarah. You know that, right?”

She nods, lost in thought. “Thank you for listening.”

“If you have something to say, I’ll always listen to you.” I tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “I wish my dad were here to meet you. He would have really liked you.”

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