Page 75 of Caged in Flames

She’d probably be surprised I have them.

She stares, unblinking. "Well…that is a lot to process."

"I know. I don't know if your mom even knows all of the details, but that is why Rich left." I tell her this, my shoulder sagging once it’s all out in the open.

"You mean after having an affair with Regina, knocking her up, and taking my angel of a mother for granted?" I don’t know why I was worried. She’s finally standing up for herself today and I love every minute of it.

I want her anger.

"Why do you hate me?" She repeats.

My hand rubs at the back of my neck. Is she listening? "We just went over this, Nix. I don't hate you." Frustration makes its way into my tone even though I’m trying not to get upset. I don’t have that right.

"Right. Well, why did you and your best friends spend a year making me fucking miserable then?" She stares me down with fury building in those gray eyes.

This is fucking difficult. I hate what we did to her, but I was just so fucking mad. "I hated that Richard picked my mom out of obligation. I hated that he wanted to leave us and go back to you. I hated that I lost a sibling. I hated that even though I knew you existed, you were still a fucking ghost.” I look at the wall briefly before turning back to her.

“You took up space in our home even though you weren't there. I wasn't even sixteen when I found out about all of this, and I handled it like a child. I took all my anger out on you because it was easy. You were here, you had nothing, and I wanted to make sure you always had nothing."

I give her all my truths. She deserves them. But I can’t say I like laying myself bare. The truth is a bitter, thick pill and it hurts to swallow.

“At least that’s what I told myself. That I was mad because I grew up alone.” My hands run through my hair. “But I think the idea that he wanted to leave us, leave me, is what drove that hate.”

Nix stands up but doesn’t move to leave the room. She looks over the clutter on my desk from weeks of too much homework and no time to care about cleaning up.

I wonder if her desk looks the same. Or if it’s covered in pictures of her and her mom. Or sheet music. I wonder if she takes the time to put everything away.

Continuing, my next words are raw.

“Feelings…are hard for me. I don’t always understand them. And I don’t do well with what I don’t understand.”

"Do you still want me to have nothing?" Her voice breaks me out my thoughts. Nix’s head tilts to the side the tiniest bit as her eyes narrow on me.

Expecting judgement or even disgust, I’m surprised to find only curiosity. That I recognize.

I let out a long breath, wishing we were outside. At least then I could have a cigarette to get through this. But she’s waiting for an answer.

Instead, I approach her slowly. "No, sweetheart. I would much rather give you everything."

---