Page 27 of Pretend for Me

“What?” Matthew whispered.

I looked at him like the answer was right there, and in fact, it was. Right in front of me.

“Because of me? Because of … us.”

Matthew finally knew the truth. All these years later, he finally knew how far my love and devotion went. I ruined my future for a past with him. Of course, I didn’t know it at the time. I thought he was my past, present, and future. Oh how naive I was.

The tears I’d been holding back streamed down my face as I looked at the boy who I had been connected to since we were four years old. He looked exactly the same, yet so different. Love shouldn’t feel this painful.

I nodded, not having the strength to say it out loud. I hoped everything was clear to Matthew now that he knew this piece of information. All of my fears, actions, outbursts, and insecurities. I fought back a sob as I remembered the incident from when we were six years old and how it set all of this in motion. Watching Logan get adopted, and how Lana fell apart at seeing her twinleave, had cemented for me how temporary our situation really was. It created a deep-seated fear in me that the same thing would happen with Matthew and me. That we’d be torn apart. It was in that moment that I knew I’d do anything to prevent it from happening. Even if it meant pretending that everything was okay. Nothing was okay after that.

“Cassie, I’m sorry! How was I supposed to know? Why didn’t you tell me?” Matthew murmured softly as I hugged myself, rubbing up and down my arms.

“You weren’t. I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad or feel sorry for me. I just thought you finally needed to know. That maybe it will help you to let me go.” I nodded, trying to convince myself more than anything else.

I walked into the elevator, pressing the button for the lobby. “Please tell Charlie I’m sorry and have her text me when she’s home,” I called over my shoulder.

Matthew hurried his steps behind me, trying to catch me before the elevator left. “Fuck. Cassie, don’t leave like this.”

The doors began to close, and I whispered, “Maybe now we can both move on.”

The last thing I saw was Matthew’s fist slam against the wall beside the elevator. At the same time, Charlie ran out from where she was hiding. With one look at her brother, she said, “Well, shit.”

I slumped against the wall, feeling utterly depleted. If the truth set you free, why did I feel like I just tightened the shackles?

15

THEN

Age 14

The double-edged sword of being in foster care together was things were never better and never worse. The circumstances sucked, but at least they had each other.

Many prospective families came to see Cassie, month after month, but she constantly pushed them away.

Her caseworker was at her wits’ end. Cassie’s foster parents didn’t understand why she acted this way, so they chalked it up to mental illness.

“Cassie, I have a question for you and you’re not going to like it, but I need you to really think about it. Promise me.”

She was already on high alert. During their recent conversations, Cassie was told if she didn’t do better in her foster house, they were not willing to keep her.

Ever since Charlotte came to live with her latest foster parents, they didn’t need Cassie now. She was an “older” girl and the older you get in foster care, the less likely it is you’llget adopted. They had a shiny new toddler. Cassie was close to Charlie’s age when she was first placed in the foster care system. Of course, she didn’t blame Charlie for being lovable. What two-year-old wasn’t?

But a righteous teenage girl was considered undesirable. There were just too many years of trauma for anyone to willingly unpack.

Cassie knew this. She fought to stay with Matthew in spite of this.

Matthew still had no clue of her crazy plan. If he did, he would only worry and convince Cassie not to go through with it. He saw something different in her, something lovable and it scared her. It scared her because she didn’t want anyone else to see what he saw. If they did, she would be taken away and be without him.

Cassie started shaking her head no and played with the jelly bracelets that she’d stolen from the mall.

“Cassandra.” Mrs. Baker was once a sweet and soft-spoken person toward her. Now nine years into dealing with all her messes, she couldn’t hide her disdain.

“What?” Cassie barked.

“First, don’t speak to me like that. Second, I know you’re hell-bent on staying in foster care but here’s a wild thought for you—how would you feel if I told you that Matthew is still interested in getting adopted and that I have some potential families?” Mrs. Baker’s eyebrow perked up, and she put on her best poker face.

Cassie visibly gulped. She was out of moves. She always planned for what she could control, which was her adoption status. Matthew had made it clear from the start that no families were interested in a wounded little boy, and the likelihood of being selected only lessened as years went by, so she felt no reason to worry about Matthew. But if Mrs. Baker had families who wanted to meet him, what could she do? It was not likeMatthew would make himself unlovable like Cassie did. He was not good at pretending … Neither was she but her fear overrode any obstacles.

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