Page 48 of Pretend for Me

I inhaled sharply, looking into Cassie’s eyes, which had filled with unshed tears. “Life didn’t go as I planned. I’m miserable. Everything in my life is fake. The last time something was real was with you.”

“We both made choices, Matthew,” Cassie murmured. “Now we have to live with them.”

A gust of wind hit the tree-lined block, causing Cassie to shiver.

I shrugged myself out of my sports jacket and handed it to her.

“No, I—” Cassie started, but I quickly interrupted.

“It’s just a jacket, Cass. Not a marriage proposal.” We both cringed at my choice of words.

I took a deep breath to compose myself, resigned. “I made mistakes, Cassie. We both made mistakes,” I admitted. “But you gave up on us, like we were nothing.”

“I did not,” Cassie yelled, throwing her hands up. Her jaw clenched but before she could say more, I pointed my finger at her.

“You did,” I snapped, flippantly. “I never walked away from you. I was pulled in a million directions, and yeah, people got in my head and influenced me. But you know what—I stayed and fought for us. Fuck, I’mstillfighting for us. And what have you done but run once things got difficult.”

“I gave up having a fucking family for you.” Cassie hissed, the vein in her forehead throbbing.

I hated how hurt she was, but I couldn’t take the blame for everything. “I never once asked you to do that,” I reasoned. “How was I supposed to know?” I shook my head, pausing. There wasn’t much more I could say that hadn’t been said.

“Because I loved you so fucking much, it consumed me.” She yelled at the very same time as a noisy truck drove down the street. “You were everything to me and then poof suddenly, you had a whole other life.” Cassie’s voice broke, her breath shallow. “Without me.”

“You gave up on me—on us—pretty quickly though too. Even after I poured my heart out in that letter—" she retorted, crossing her arms.

“What letter?” I asked, puzzled. I had absolutely no clue what she was talking about.

“The letter I gave toyour parentsa month after our fight. I came by your house to return my car keys and gave them a letter I wrote for you,” Cassie spat, her voice full of venom.

I was puzzled by her revelation. After Cassie had jumped out of my car ten years ago, I spent all night searching for her. I checked everywhere I could think: alleys, parks, the diner, shelters, even the underpass. I periodically called home, hoping, praying really, that she changed her mind and went to my parents’. Every time I called her cellphone, it went straight to voicemail until eventually the number was disconnected. It was at that point that I gave up hope that I’d find her. If there was one thing I knew for certain about Cassie, it was if she didn’twant to be found, she wouldn’t be. The year after our fight, I’d been operating on autopilot, all the while holding on hope that our paths would cross again. Now she was telling me she had left a letter, a letter that would’ve helped us avoid so much heartache. What did the letter say, and what had happened to it?

It didn’t take long for me to answer the latter of those questions. I had a pretty good idea, but I would tend to that later.

Now was my turn to right for my own wrongdoings.

“I searched for you!” I bellowed. “After you left, I didn’t give up. I went as far as hiring an investigator before I realized it was pointless. You know as well as I do how to hide from the monsters that plague us. I just never thought I’d be your fucking monster.” I threw my hands up wildly, unable to control the mounting frustration.

Before Cassie could respond, the creak of a door opening sounded in the air.

“Do we have a problem out here?” an older man called from beside them, standing on his porch.

I answered quickly, shaking my head, “No sir.” The last thing I needed was more trouble.

“Take it inside, or I’m calling the cops,” the man warned, giving a second glance to Cassie. With a slam of the door, he was gone. But his words lingered in the air.

We looked at each other, chests heaving, emotions running high. The wind continued to whip and Cassie shivered, tightening her grasp on my jacket. The sight of her wearing my clothes almost made me smile, but I was too pissed.

“I never got a letter, Cassie.” I breathed out, exasperated, “Let me drive you home. It’s getting late.” My lips pressed into a thin line. I looked back toward the man’s house, hoping it was enough to sway her. Neither one of us needed to be arrested in Jersey.

Cassie paused, following my gaze and muttered, “Fine.”

I walked around the passenger side to open her door. I would still be a gentleman even if I was annoyed with her. I pulled away with a last glance to Charlie’s house, worried about our foster sister. I would deal with that later.

I drove for a few minutes and then looked over at Cassie, who was shaking her leg and picking at her fingernails. Her discomfort seemed more serious than her usual annoyance toward me.

“What’s wrong?” I inquired, concerned.

“Driving in cars makes me nervous,” Cassie admitted, biting her pinky nail.

---