Cassie
I’d done the nine-hour ride back home enough over the last two-and-a-half years, but no journey had ever dragged as much as this one. I couldn’t stop replaying the moment Dennis finally ended things over and over in my head.
Deep down, I knew I only had myself to blame.
He’d never told me about his childhood, but I sensed it was to blame for the way Dennis struggled to open up. Lots of guys were the same. Preferring action to conversation. But with Dennis it was like he’d built a wall around himself, keeping people out. On rare occasions, he’d let me in, but he always ended up pushing me back out again.
As I watched the scenery roll by, I considered how things might have been different if he wasn’t Dennis Hayes. If he wasn’t some hotshot football player and lackey for Marcus Donohue. But no matter how hard I tried to imagine a different version of events, I couldn’t. Because all of his experiences—all of the things he did in the name of loyalty and business—made Dennis who he was. Made up the guy I’d stupidly fallen in love with. Guys like Dennis weren’t bad guys. They were just conditioned to know no different. I didn’t doubt what Dennis felt for me was real. I’d felt it every time he looked at me, touched me, made love to me. But he didn’t know how to be that guy. Not really. Because I realized now, Dennis wasn’t just emotionally unavailable, he didn’t know how to love. He tried to tell me—to show me in his affection—but in the end, it wasn’t enough. And when it came down to the wire, he’d chosen the easy way out.
I wanted to hate him.
I didn’t.
I wanted to forget him.
I couldn’t.
But most of all, I wanted back the pieces of my heart he’d stolen.
My brief time with Dennis Hayes had changed me, and I would never be the same again.
“There she is. Get over here and give your old man a hug.” My father bounded over to me while Mom hung back. I was a daddy’s girl through and through.
“Hey, Dad. It’s so good to see you.” I sank into his embrace, letting his arms comfort me.
“We missed you at Thanksgiving.” Mom’s arms cocooned us both and the three of us stood in the coach station, hugging the life out of one another.
“Okay, Celia, let’s give our girl some room.”
“Baby, are you sick? You look sick. When was the last time you ate a proper meal?” Mom pinched my cheeks, her eyes darting anxiously over my form.
“Mom, chill. I’m fine.” A proper meal won’t fix a broken heart.
“Let’s get your bag in the trunk. Mom made your favorite and the Draysons are joining us for supper. A pre-holiday shindig.”
“Shindig? Really, Dad.”
He laughed, popping the trunk and throwing my bag inside. I slid into the back seat of the car hoping Mom would sit up front, but of course she followed me, sitting closer than I’d hoped. She took my hand in hers and rested it on her knee. “So, how are classes? The girls? Tell me everything.”
She meant well. But it was going to be a long three weeks.
Dad and Mom kept conversation flowing as we made the fifteen-minute journey to our house. As soon as my eyes landed on the familiar sight, I was relieved to be home. Once my parents were satisfied I was fulfilling their idea of the perfect college experience, they would back off a bit and give me space. And if they didn’t, I could always hide out in my room.
“So, Cassie, have you met any eligible bachelors up there in Oregon?”
Dad almost choked on his pasta while Mom’s eyes looked ready to pop out of her skull. “Joe, you know Cassie has her life all mapped out. She doesn’t have time for boys.”
Boys. I wanted to tell her I wasn’t thirteen anymore, but it was easier to nod and smile.
“Yeah, but come on, Celia, she’s almost twenty. There must have been a guy or two to catch her eye. Am I right, Cassie?” Mr. Drayson grinned while his wife looked mortified.
“I, hmm… this is delicious, Mom.” I said at the same time as Marc, the Draysons’ son said, “Dad, you’re being inappropriate again.”
The Draysons laughed quietly, but Mom and Dad looked anything but amused. I ducked my head and kept shoveling Mom’s special recipe mac and cheese into my mouth. But she never was one to let something slide.
“Cassie,” she said, placing down her cutlery. “Is there someone? You haven’t mentioned anyone special.”
“No one in particular.” The words spewed out before I could stop them, and five pairs of eyes settled on me. “No, I don’t mean… Honestly,” I sighed. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
“I’m not making a big deal,” she insisted. “Phillip, do you think I’m making a big deal of this?”
It was Dad’s turn to sigh. “Celia, now let’s not go getting worked up. Cassie said herself it’s no big deal.”
“Yes, but she didn’t deny there was no one special.” She leaned closer to my father, conspiratorially. “I think there’s someone, Phil.”
“Please, stop,” I said. “There was a guy. There isn’t anymore. Can we move on?”
“Cassie, I’m—”
No. Not the pity eyes. I could handle the inquisition, but not this. Pushing my plate away, I rose from my chair. “I think I’m going to catch an early night. I’m beat. It was lovely to see you all,” I addressed the Draysons and then turned to Mom and Dad. “I’ll see you both in the morning.”
Mom tried to protest, but Dad silenced her, covering her hand with his own. It wasn’t that their ambush had caught me unawares—it was the same every time I came home—but I didn’t want to go there. Not yet. Because as I climbed the stairs to my room, I realized that I hadn’t only been Dennis’ secret, he’d also been mine.
I’d been so hellbent on telling everyone and coming clean, that I hadn’t really stopped to consider the consequences. What would our friends think? Our families? I could have announced I was dating the President and my mom would have found fault. She liked to place me on a pedestal. Cassie Malson, their high achieving, career driven, levelheaded daughter. When I finally brought a guy home, they would have wanted it to be someone like the Draysons’ son. There was nothing wrong with Marc, but he wasn’t Dennis. He didn’t set my body on fire and send my heart into hyperdrive. He was polite, with old-fashioned values, and a good job in the city. The epitome of stability. And once upon a time, I’d imagined I would end up with a Marc of the world. But now?
Now it seemed I preferred my guys a little rougher around the edges.
Inside my room, I kicked off my shoes and flopped onto my bed just as my cell vibrated. It was probably Lydia texting to brag about her amazing trip with Nate. But when my eyes landed on the name on the screen, everything stopped.
Happy holidays, Cass
I’m sorry. D x
I stared at those five words for longer than I should have. But it comforted me to know he was thinking about me. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, Dennis still cared.
He didn’t text again. Two weeks passed. Christmas came and went, and New Year arrived without a bang. And I was a fraud in my own home. I smiled and made conversation and took impromptu trips to the mall with Mom, but my mind was elsewhere. Stuck on a guy that had made it clear we couldn’t be together. I thought—hoped—with every day that passed, it would get easier.
It didn’t.
The hole in my chest grew and grew until I felt sure my heart would fall right out. Nothing about being apart from Dennis felt right. So, when my mom reiterated the question Mr. Drayson had asked me that night over dinner, I didn’t deflect.
“You know, baby, you can tell me about him.” Mom lifted my feet onto her lap and tucked them into her hands while we watched some old movie playing on cable.
“About who?”
“Your someone special.”
I smiled. Somehow, the term felt different this time around. As if time away from Chastity Falls had given me a chance to see Dennis through fresh eyes.
“His name is Dennis,” I said, still focused on the television.
“That’s a good solid name. Like your father’s.”
“If you say so, Mom.”
She slapped my feet, but I sensed her amusement.
“Was it always Dad for you, Mom?”
“What do you mean, sweetheart?”
“Well, I know the story. High school sweethearts heading towards their silver wedding anniversary. But was Dad always it for you?”
Mom shifted uncomfortably, and I stifled a laugh. “It’s okay, Mom. I won’t tell. Your secret’s safe with me. Who was he?”
“Palmer Thomson.”
“Never heard of him.”
“That’s because I never talked about him.”
“So, what happened?”
“We were young. We fell in love, but realized it would never work. Six months later, I met your father.”
“Mom, you little hussy. But why did you decide it wouldn’t work?”
“Ooh, Cassandra Malson.” She leaned over and batted my arm. “You are so nosey.”
“I learned from the best.” I flashed her a teasing grin.
“Palmer lived on the edge of town in the trailer park. His mom was a single parent and worked all hours to keep him and his younger sister clothed and fed. Your grams and pops…” her voice trailed off.
“They didn’t approve.”
“I kept it from them at first, but I didn’t care. Palmer had a kind heart and he was so bright. He came over for dinner on Sunday’s and we’d study in the yard, but then things started to change between us. Our friendship grew into something else.”
“And they didn’t like it.”
“They just wanted what was best for me, baby.”
“And was it? Best for you?” I met my mother’s sad expression and she shrugged.
“You can’t ask me that, Cassie. If things hadn’t ended with Palmer, I would have never met your father and had you.”
I considered her words, trying to formulate a reply, but she beat me to it. “He was my first love, Cassie. My first everything. That’s not something you just get over or forget in a hurry.”
She was right.
It wasn’t.
“If nothing else, I wish I’d have stuck up for that. For our feelings toward one another. We were young, yes, but love is precious, and it is rare, and when you find something like that it’s worth fighting for.” She flashed me a smile before whispering, “But don’t tell your father, okay? He likes to think he conquered my heart first.”
Mom went back to watching the movie but I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t get past the part where she said love was worth fighting for. I’d wanted Dennis to fight for us—for me. To prove to me that he cared. But had I given him the same courtesy?
Had I fought for him?
The truth hurt far more than it should have.