Page 43 of The Life We Left Behind

Cade fist-pumped the air, completely forgetting the strange situation unfolding before him, and went to dart for the door, the fallen bag of snacks being left completely forgotten on the ground.

Booker picked it up, much to my embarrassment, as he glanced inside.

“Thanks,” he murmured, opening the door and waiting for us both to walk through before him.

I could see the questions he wanted to ask, and I could feel my shields starting to rise. This wasn’t going to be pleasant, but I might as well get it out of the way now rather than put it off. That was one lesson I’d definitely learned today.

We walked to the bakery in the complete opposite of silence. After we dropped the groceries off at the car, Cade launched into telling Booker about anything and everything. He packed in Pokémon, baseball, school, and which was the best type of cookie in a less than five-minute walk across the town square. Booker, to his credit, was absolutely engrossed. Even the finer points of Pokémon battles seemed like his favorite subject as Cade chattered away. It was completely at odds with the quiet, broody Farrington brother I remembered from my teenage years.

As we walked into the bakery, Marie looked between the three of us and then bustled around the counter as she wrapped a surprised Cade up in a hug. “I know this is weird, but just go with it,” she muttered as she gripped him tight.

Cade laughed, wrapping his arms around the older woman, who perpetually smelled like cookies.

“Cade, this is Marie. One of the best people in the whole wide world,” I told him as I grinned at the sight.

Marie held him out at arm’s length as she looked him over. “You’re so much bigger than the pictures I saw,” she gasped. “Tell me all about your game. You had one this week, right?”

Cade looked confused, but she quickly explained. “Your grandfather was the proudest granddaddy I ever did see. He told me all about you. Why don’t we take a look through the display case and package you up a box of cookies to take home.”

The mention of cookies was all Cade needed as he happily followed Marie behind the display without even a glance back at me.

Booker smiled, watching him go, and then slid into one of the booths.

This was it.

He folded his hands in front of him and nodded his head toward one of the seats, waiting for me to sit with him. “Delaney…this is…I can’t even.”

“We’re here for the funeral and packing up the farm, and then we’re leaving,” I told him quickly. But as the words came out of my mouth, my heart clenched, almost like I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do.

“And Trace?”

“I saw him yesterday. It was…strange, but we’re working together to sell the farm.”

“You can’t keep this from him, you know. It’s only going to take one look at Cade to know he’s his son. I can’t…I neverthought you were the type of person to do something like this, Delaney.”

If he’d slapped me in the face, I wouldn’t have been any more shocked.

Mekeep Cade fromhim.

The actual fucking audacity of it.

I scoffed in disgust, not only at his words but the judgmental look he dared to level in my direction. I always thought Booker was different. The black sheep in the family because he didn’t share the hatred in their hearts. Clearly, I’d been wrong.

“I’m not the one keeping secrets,” I snapped, reaching into my purse and pulling out my wallet, not even needing to look at the contents. I knew exactly where the thing I was looking for was, constantly burning a guilty hole in my wallet. “Perhaps before you go around throwing accusations at people, you should have an honest conversation with your brother.”

I slapped my hand on the table as I stood, leaving behind the check I’d never cashed. I didn’t even make it out of my seat before Booker’s hand snapped out and grabbed my wrist. He glared at the check like I’d thrown a poisonous snake in his direction. He made no move to touch it, and instead, a look of absolute disgust I’d never seen from him before was leveled at the small piece of paper and everything it implied.

“Please don’t leave,” he said softly. “I…I’m sorry. Please don’t take him away yet.”

It wasn’t what I’d expected from Booker, of all people. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to say all the things that had collected in my brain since I’d left this town. But this was Booker. He wasn’t the one who had pushed me away or the one who had tried to pay me to end the life growing inside me. He didn’t deserve my ire.

I slowly sat back down, scooping the check off the table, when Cade started making his way to us with a box of cookies and the biggest smile on his face that I’d ever seen.

“Don’t you dare hurt him,” I whispered, cutting a glare at Booker. “He deserves so much more than your family.”

It was uncalled for, but I felt like a wounded animal lashing out to inflict even the smallest amount of pain on the ones around me.

It didn’t work, though. Booker nodded in agreement as he sagged back into his seat.

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