Page 73 of Breakout
“I just want you to know that I really lucked out when I married you, and I can’t imagine having a better husband than you,” she says softly.
You’re not the lucky one, I am.
“Thank you for saying that. I’m pretty lucky too. Now come on, let’s head into town.”
fifteen
As a child, I used to dream about what it would be like to have a family. To have someone pop up out of nowhere and come rescue me from the foster home.
It was always a happy thing. An old aunt or uncle would come out of the woodwork with a bright smile and open arms, begging me to come with them. We would live in their house, and they would love me. I would have a mother figure to help me learn how to braid my hair and do my makeup. A father figure to throw a ball around with and threaten my first date with a shotgun.
It was such a nice fantasy. One that never came true.
I gave up on it long ago, but somewhere inside of me, I still harbored it. It had been growing its own life once more with this inheritance.
In one single afternoon, it’s been shattered to pieces.
I know the truth now. The people who share the blood running through my veins are nasty, horrible people.
“Hey, you okay over there?” Beckett asks, squeezing my hand in his.
I look over at him, admiring the way he looks in the driver’s seat.
He is so handsome. So strong. He handled everything without question. He had my back and didn’t waver even when the bitch offered him money.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Not yet,” I admit.
“I know. You want to process it. That doesn’t mean that you are okay, though. You don’t have to be. What just happened was traumatic. Take your time to work through it, but you don’t have to do it alone. I’m right here.”
“Thank you, Beck. Seriously, I don’t know what I would do without you.”
It’s the truth too. I have no idea how I would navigate this entire thing without him. I guess I could have talked with Grace or Cora about it, but I hate feeling like I’m imposing on someone. It’s shitty of me to think that way because I know either of them would be beyond happy to be here for me, but it’s ingrained in my head that I can’t trust them.
Years of foster care will do that to you.
I can’t tell you how many of my foster siblings would pretend to be my friend only to stab me in the back later. I learned that the only person I can ever rely on is myself.
Yet it’s natural to lean into Beckett. To let him take some of the weight off of me. It scares me as much as it’s a relief.
Beckett pulls my hand to his lips, kissing it without looking away from the road.
“You won’t ever have to find out, Pey. I’ll always be here. Till death do us part, remember,” he teases.
Only I’m starting to wish it wasn’t a tease at all. I don’t know when, but Beckett has been slowly dismantling all of my walls. I’m just now looking up to realize that they are all gone. I’m left vulnerable.
I’m falling in love with him.
I knew marrying him would be a mistake, but I didn’t expect it to feel this way because I want it to be real. I don’t want to divorce him.
“That’s right,” I say, looking back out the window.
Thankfully he doesn’t ask me anything else. We pull up to the lawyer’s office ten minutes later.
“Let’s go let him know what happened, then we can go get milkshakes or something.”
I give him a sad smile. “Are you trying to bribe me?”
“Only if it’s working.” He winks at me, getting out of the car.
