Page 6 of Pretend for Me

“Oh my God.”

I stood there frozen, staring at him. I wasn't sure who had uttered the words. It could have been me; it could have beenhim.

The green eyes pierced into my own with a look I wasn’t acquainted with. His expression flickered between shock and raw emotion. Neither one of us moved. We just stood there like statues, staring at one another. It seemed as if both of us were afraid to look away, likely because we thought the other would disappear if we did.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Cassandra?” Bridget shrieked, climbing out of her chair, her lap stained with red wine.

The spell broke as I cringed from the venom in Bridget’s voice. “I’m so sorry.” It was nothing more than a whisper. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d felt so weak.

I spent the last ten years running away from him. And here he was, standing in front of me, like no time had passed at all.

I looked away from him and glanced first at Bridget’s expression of disgust and then to Holden’s sympathetic face. There was nothing worse than pity. I turned and bolted for the exit. I couldn’t do this. Not here, not now.

“Cassie!” he called from behind me.

I heard footsteps following me as I maneuvered through the busy restaurant. Bypassing Audrey at the bar, I exited the double doors leading to the alleyway of the establishment. As I doubled over, trying to catch my breath and ward off a panic attack, I gasped and clutched my stomach.

The door creaked open behind me, and I was met with the one person who both stole my breath and gave me the air I needed. I exhaled in what felt like the first time in a decade.

“Matthew.”

4

THEN

Age 4

You know that moment—the moment when you meet someone and realize they are the love of your life? It hits you like a ton of bricks, and there's nothing you can do to stop it. They are now a prisoner to your love, and if you're lucky enough, you’re a prisoner to theirs as well.

Cassie and Matthew were far too young to realize when this moment transpired between the pair, but it did. It was an ordinary Tuesday morning and Matthew was sweeping the floor of the old rundown home when the doorbell rang. His latest foster mother, Mrs. Davis, went to answer it, turning back to Matthew and giving him a stern look before putting her fakest smile on as she answered the door.

A middle-aged woman in a pantsuit and a pig-tailed little girl stood outside. The girl had long brown hair and hazel eyes that were doe-eyed and excited. She looked inside the house, spotted Matthew, and took off toward him. She tackled him and wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug.

This had taken Matthew aback, and he looked up at the girl, puzzled, as she scrunched her nose. Being four years old and painfully shy didn't help his current position, in which a girl was pinning him down.

Matthew’s background was a heartbreaking one. He never had much to be happy about, let alone laugh. Matthew had been in Mrs. Davis’s care for three years, never once having a reason to express joy. But Matthew was laughing. Laughing was an understatement—he was hysterical.

Cassie, the little girl who’d tackled Matthew, joined in on his laughing fit and plopped off him, lying next to him on the kitchen floor. The crumbs that Matthew was collecting before his ambush were scattered everywhere, making their way onto the pair's hair and clothing.

The social worker had Mrs. Davis sign some documents before calling Cassie over to explain what was going to happen next. She would leave, and Cassie would stay there with Mrs. Davis and Matthew.

Cassie looked at Mrs. Baker, her caseworker, intently as only a four-year-old could. "I get to stay here? With him?" She pointed to Matthew and screamed, charging after him for another hug.

Knowing what to expect this time, Matthew started running, thinking of a good hiding spot.

Comingfrom an only-child household made Cassie jovial seeing Matthew, another little person. The excitement of being in a new space was palpable. Cassie didn’t realize she was staying here for the unforeseeable future. She just thought Mrs. Bakerwas leaving her for a playdate. After she left, Mrs. Davis led her upstairs to a small bedroom.

“Cassie, you must put your items away and out of sight. I don’t like clutter.” Mrs. Davis pointed her finger at Cassie and gave her a sharp look.

Cassie was clueless as to why she was acting so mean to her. Cassie remembered how kind she was when Mrs. Baker was still there. However, Cassie couldn’t come up with a reason for the sudden change.

“Yes, Miss Helen.” She gave her a toothy smile and began unpacking. She pulled her belongings from her knapsack and arranged them on her bed.

The quiet atmosphere of the New Jersey suburb was a change of pace for Cassie, as she was used to loud and noisy New York City.

Maybe I will learn to ride a bike. Daddy always said we needed space to learn, she thought optimistically.

Matthew looked at Cassie as though she was an alien. His foster brothers and sisters were all hardened by the lifestyle that came from being unwanted, so to see someone his age so happy made him curious. He was used to unhappy people, but this brightness in Cassie made himalmostfeel joy for the first time in his life.

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