Page 98 of The Escape Plan

He matches my tone. “Jeez, Keeley, after that Ferris wheel ride, there was a second when I thought I might have to spend the remainder of my time in America in jail.”

“If they locked you up, you wouldn’t be able to get on a plane tomorrow night,” I say.

This is also meant to sound jokey. Light.

It doesn’t.

“If it helps, I kind of wanted to cry, too.” Beckett smiles at me softly, his eyes indeed a little misty. “Can’t believe tonight’s our last night. I wish I could stay.”

“I wish you could too.” I look at my hands. “People leaving always makes me feel a bit messy inside, and I feel extra messy tonight.”

“I understand.”

Embarrassed, I look away. I hate being vulnerable like this, showing my emotional cards.

But Becks reaches over and puts a gentle hand on my chin, tilting my head so I’m looking straight into those amazing hazel-green eyes. “Tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours, Keeley.”

My chest tightens. “I don’t think you even want to begin to know.”

“Try me,” Beckett says lightly. “You can always tell me anything, Keeley.”

I hesitate again—my eyes still fixed on his—and I realize I really can trust him, really can bare all my vulnerability. All my inner ugly.

“Remember I mentioned that my parents had a messy divorce?” I begin hesitantly.

“I do.”

“After the divorce, my mom was so hurt, so cut up, that she didn’t want to be around my dad anymore.Couldn’tbe around him, in fact. Even the risk of running into him around town was too much for her. So she left.”

I hesitate, my breath a little shaky. I hate this story and never tell it, but Beckett’s silence, giving me space to talk and share, helps me continue with the next, most painful part.

“She gave up Ezra and me willingly. Handed full custody to my dad and walked away.”

Beside me, Beckett stills, statue-like, as he absorbs this.

The admission hurts to speak aloud—that the one person who was meant to love me most, love me unconditionally, left me.

Chose to retreat to her hometown three states away over staying with her kids. Her only son and daughter. Removed herself from our lives entirely.

I know now that my mother was going through some depression and anxiety issues at the time. I understand that, logically. But my heart still squeezes every time I think about the fact that she begged my dad not to leave her. And then, when he was no longer part of the equation, I was in turn easy to leave. Or at least, easier to leave than I should have been.

And that fact has become like a root buried so deep in me, so ensconced in shame and unworthiness, that I’ve never tried to dig it out, but simply tried to bury it deeper.

“I guess she didn’t really want us, when it came down to it.”

My eyes burn as I pick at my fingernails, the remnants of my shameful admission still ringing in my ears.

When Beckett finally speaks, his voice is rough. “I’m so sorry, Keeley.”

I shrug. “It is what it is. But when she left, she broke my heart.”

“That’s awful, Keeley. Truly awful. I’m so sorry you went through that.”

“It was a long time ago, but I guess I still get triggered when people leave—it was a huge step for me to let that lie in my article about Noeleen and Douglas, to not focus on her leaving, but on the good times they had. Because that’s what I wanted—want—to do with you, now. Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened, right?”

“Like I said earlier, it’s okay to cry. What you went through was awful.” He pauses. Swallows. Clears his throat. “But I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier tonight—and what if this didn’t have to be temporary? What if I didn’t have to leave?”

I smile sadly. “But you do. You’ve got your job. Your home. Your family. A niece or nephew on the way. You’ve even got a demo to bring back home to kickstart the crazy successful music career I want you to have.”

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