Page 26 of Pretend for Me

As if he could read my mind, he said, “Don’t run. I have someone who wants to see you.” Matthew whistled and called out to his dog. “Rocky, come here, boy!”

The dog waddled his way into the living room, then when he saw me, he tackled me, standing up on his hind legs and causing a laugh to burst forth from my lips.

“I missed that,” he commented.

“Missed what?” I asked, already anticipating his response. What I wasn’t anticipating was the way my stomach did a flip over what he said next.

“Your laugh.” Matthew shook his head slightly, his lips turning up slightly.

My breath hitched and I turned my attention to the dog. “I’ve missed you! You look so good. The high life’s treating you well it seems,” I said, and then I started whispering into Rocky's ear, things only a dog could hear. I could be honest with him, even ifI couldn’t be honest with myself. I ruffled Rocky's fur, crouching down to play with the dog.

“You know toward the end, I can’t remember you laughing,” Matthew pondered. “I just remember you smiling politely. Too fucking politely. You held your tongue a lot. I recognize that now.”

I didn’t know what to say to his reflection of past events. He was right—I had been unhappy for a long time.

“Please make yourself at home. I’m going to order Chinese. Do you still like wonton soup?” Matthew asked.

“Don’t! Don’t do this. This isn’t a social visit. The only reason I’m here is for Charlotte, and once she’s settled, I’m out of here,” I warned, standing up from the reunion with my favorite dog.

“Cassie, I don’t want Charlie to hear us arguing. She’s been through enough today. Come on,” Matthew reasoned, his eyes narrowing at me.

“You know, it’s pretty low, even for you, to use Charlie as a pawn. I’m here for her, aren’t I? So please don’t get this twisted,” I clarified, standing up straighter. I reveled in my newfound power in standing up for myself.

“Cassie,” Matthew pleaded, his voice sincere. “I’m not using Charlie as a pawn. I wouldn’t do that. You know me. Or you used to.”

“You—”

Mathew interjected, “We need to talk. About everything.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said. I couldn’t rehash the past with him. Not when I’d worked so hard to put those years behind me.

“We’ve got ten years to talk about, Cassie. I’m fully aware you’re just here for Charlie and not for me. You’ve made that perfectly clear. But I want you to know that I’m trying hard not to push you into a situation you’re not ready for. I just want thechance to make things right,” he offered, his voice hoarse with emotion as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

I stood glued in the foyer, unable to move forward. Both physically and metaphorically. I was sick of people telling me what I needed to do. I didn’t need anything—or anyone—but myself. Or so I kept trying to tell myself, but who was I kidding?

I looked at Matthew. His shoulders were squared off, his muscular body on display through his button-down white shirt. The tension in his jaw and the way his green eyes shined showed his frustration. He cared or was at least pretending he did. I really didn’t know the man standing before me. The physical changes were easy to look past, but every so often I’d see a glimpse of the boy I fell in love with. The one who had always promised to be there for me. The boy with eyes the colors of freshly cut grass could see right through me, except when it truly mattered. When he had donned rose-colored glasses and been blind to what was before him. So instead of feeling hopeful, I felt angry that those types of feelings still existed within me.

I braced myself and took a deep breath. “What do you want me to say?” I asked, my tone flat as I took a step to lean against the wall adjacent to him, kicking my foot up. “That I didn’t sleep in the truck for the first few nights before I returned it to your parents? That I didn’t sleep in mice-infested shelters for almost a year until I found Audrey?” I bit my lip, trying to push down my emotions while wondering how much I should divulge.

Matthew opened his mouth to speak, but I wouldn’t have that. He wanted to talk, so I’d fucking talk all right. I’d use every bit of this opportunity to tell him everything I had been holding in for years, all the suffering I had quietly done to try to keep the peace. I’d tell him all the ways I played pretend, plastering a smile on my face time and time again, desperate to hold onto what we had. It was all for nothing.

“Do you want me to say that I cried myself to sleep almost nightly after you got adopted? Do you want me to tell you how much I hated the parties you dragged me to, with all the people who looked down their noses at me, making snide comments in whispers that were anything but? Should I go into detail about how I cringe every time I serve uber rich people at the restaurant, thinking of how your people treated me, like I wasn’t worth a damn thing? I already knew I was so out of place. I didn’t need the constant reminders that no one wanted me. That I didn’t belong!” I chuckled sardonically.

Matthew looked at me, his eyes growing wider with every revelation that I unloaded on him. “Cassie …”

“Do you want me to tell you how fucking broken you made me?” I bit my lip, the tears starting to pool in my eyes, I couldn’t let him see me like this. I knew I should stop. I’d said far more than I ever imagined getting the chance to say, but there was a part of me that wanted to continue. I needed him to hear one more thing.

“Do you remember what you said to me the last time you saw me ten years ago?” I implored, narrowing my eyes, swatting away the fallen tears from along my cheek. I knew he remembered. Those venomous words weren’t something you simply forgot. I wondered if they haunted him the way they haunted me.

Matthew closed his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “Cassie, please.”

“Stop!” I scolded him. He didn’t get to control this. “Do you remember?” I pushed off the wall and stood taller than I had in a long time.

Matthew let out a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Yes, I remember.”

“What if I told you that the reason I didn’t get adopted, the reason for my ‘sanctimonious bullshit’”—I spat his words back athim—“was that I purposely sabotaged myself to not get picked. That I did everything I could to make myself undesirable to potential families. That I would have doneanythingto stay with you just one more day, one more minute, because you were all the family that I needed. The only family I wanted. So yes, I could have been adopted, could have had parents who wanted me, ones who weren’t about collecting a paycheck, ones who cared if I came home after school, but if it meant I didn’t get to lie in bed with you every night, I didn’t want a part in it.”

My whole body was shaking. I had been holding so much in for years. All the rage I felt pretending back then was bubbling at the surface. I knew seeing Matthew would dredge up old wounds, but I wasn’t anticipating it to be like this. I couldn’t stop even if I tried.

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