Page 101 of Lose You to Find Me

Dad gives me a look. “Son, Raine doesn’t have a malicious bone in her body. If she thought breaking up with you was for the best, then there was a logical reason for it.”

There it is again. Logic. Just because something is logical doesn’t mean it has to make sense. “Do I want children? Yeah. Christ, Dad. You know I do. How long have I said I wanted somebody to pass along the store to? To raise them there like you did with me?” I stand, riled up again. “Does that make me an asshole or something?”

“Language,” Dad says, coughing. One of his shaky hands goes to his chest, rubbing it until he catches his breath. “Don’t you think all that talk is what contributed to her decision?”

Standing taller, my brows pinch at the question. “I don’t understand.”

Mom steps in from where she’s been standing silently at the doorway of the room. “Baby boy, Raine knows how much you want to be a father. You’ve always been open about what your future looks like. If she thought for a second she was going to get in the way of that, she was going to take herself out of the equation. She did what she thought was best. I’m not saying I condone the way she hurt you, but I can see where she was coming from.”

Nostrils flaring, I look away from them and swipe my tongue along my dry lips. Sniffing back the tears prickling my eyes, I roll my shoulders back and let out a harsh breath. “Best for who? Because as far as I’m concerned, she did it selfishly.”

Dad’s scoff has my eyes dropping to him in confusion. “I have never heard you spout more bullshit than I did just now. Almost as much as when you tried convincing yourself you stopped loving her.”

Mom sighs. “Richard.”

Dad shakes his head. “No, Denise. You and I both know those two are meant to be together and too goddamn stubborn to get past shit that’s out of their control. You have someone who sacrificed her happiness for yours, kid, whether that was misplaced or not. That’s anything but selfish.”

I let that sink in.

“She never liked football,” he tells me.

My brow furrows. “What?”

“All those games she went to—” He has to stop himself to cough and catch his breath. “I know she didn’t enjoy them. But she went for you. Every single time.”

Mom’s head bobs in agreement. “Actions always speak louder than words, sweetie. There was so much you both did for each other that was meant to enhance each other’s lives. Look at how often she’d endure our competitive game nights. She loved being here because you were here, not because she liked any of the board games we were playing.”

Raine never said one way or another.

Dad dips his chin. “That girl would clearly do anything for you. You have to figure out if that’s enough to get past this or if it’s the reason to let her go for good. But you cannot keep stepping on the line. One of you needs to make the final decision.”

The final decision.

Guilt sinks into my stomach for accusing her of thinking only of herself when they’re making a good point. We always did what I wanted, and I never thought twice about it because half of the time it was Raine’s suggestion.

But does that mean I can forgive her right now? “I wouldn’t have cared,” I tell my parents quietly. “About the kids.”

Their silence shows their doubt.

“Iwouldn’t,” I press. “I’d be…sad. But I’d have her. That’s all I ever really wanted.” The second that absorbs, my chest tightens.

It was always about Raine.

Not the other shit.

The things we did.

The places we went.

It was always fun because she was with me, right there by my side.

Dad says, “Families come in all different forms. You never know what you’re going to get in life. All you could ask for is one full of love. If anything, this proves you’ll have a lifetime worth of it from that girl you walked out on today.”

Mom comes over and sits on the arm of Dad’s chair, putting her arm around his shoulders and smiling at me. “I understand why you’re hurt by this,” she says softly. “But do you want this to be the reason you can’t reconcile?”

Dropping back down onto the couch, I brush a palm down my face before looking to my parents. “At what price though?”

Dad coughs again.

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