Chapter Twenty
SEBASTIAN
The air is silent between us as Grace waits for me to say something. It should be easy to think of something I can tell her about them, but as soon as my mind wanders in that direction, pain stabs at my heart, and I retreat. Instead of remembering what they were like before they died, I decide to go back further. Somewhere where the memories aren’t as fresh—whilst still painful, they don’t seem to cripple me.
“You already know I was adopted, but I didn’t tell you that they were the ones who found me.” I let out a long breath.
“Found you where?” she asks, still moving her fingers over my chest.
“Abandoned in an alley in the city. It’s a miracle Elena even spotted me from the car, but she did. After a week in the hospital, I was living with them. Her and Colton. They gave me everything I could have needed.”
“You said something about your birth mother, that she left you… what happened to her? Is she the one who left you in the alley?” Grace asks softly, and I tense underneath her as the questions hit me one after the other.
“Yes.” My voice is coarse. Harsh. Resentful. The last thing I want to do is think of the woman who fucking abandoned me.
“You know you can talk to me, right?” Grace says, lifting her head as her fingers pause on my chest.
“I know.” I sigh. I’m not usually one to talk about my feelings, let alone shit like this. Which probably isn’t fair considering how hard I push for Grace to let me in. Maybe I’m just a selfish bastard.
“Do you remember anything about her?”
My chest clenches with the fact Grace hasn’t dropped it. I bite my tongue, literally, resisting the urge to snap at her. After a long moment of silence, I find myself saying something I’ve never told anyone before. “I have memories of a woman with dark hair singing to me, but they’re fuzzy, and I don’t know if they’re real. The only thing I can remember clearly is a woman’s voice saying, ‘Promise me you’ll stay right here and wait for me.’I was in that alley for days. She never came back.”
“But you don’t know what happened to her?”
“She left a four-year-old kid in analleyby himself, Grace,” I say, this time not able to stop myself from snapping at her. “Does it really matter why she didn’t come back?” I ask, my voice rising. “Fuck.” I curse under my breath.
Every fucking day for years, I wondered why she left me—why she never came back for me. What could I have done that made her want to leave? I was too young to remember more than snippets of my life before living with the Reeds, but to my young mind, the only explanation was that I must have donesomethingto make her not want me anymore.
Eventually, I stopped caring.
“I’m sorry,” she says, squeezing her arms around me. “No child should have to go through that.”
I relish in the feel of her against me. Her hold easing some of the pain tightening my chest. What I went through isnothingcompared to what she endured, yet here she is comforting me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap,” I say, letting out a deep breath.
“It’s fine,” Grace says, planting a kiss on my chest. My heart clenches again, though it doesn’t have anything to do with the pain still swarming my chest. “Was this your room?” she asks, lifting her head again, and I’m glad for the change in topic.
“No,” I say, and I refrain from adding that this isourroom. “Actually, mine was one of the smallest rooms,” I say.
“Really?” Grace asks, a crease forming between her brows.
“Yes… I started off with a bigger one, but…” I pause, rolling the words over my tongue, not sure if I want to divulge the information. “There were too many shadows. At least that’s what Mum told me later on.” I clear my throat. “After… what happened, I was afraid of the dark, really afraid. In fact, I’m pretty sure I spent the first month in their room rather than my own. When I got older, I never bothered to move.”
Grace flicks her eyes between mine, a mixture of emotions floating through them. “Will you show me? The room you grew up in?” Grace asks.
“Sure.” I chuckle. “It’s nothing special. I’m not even certain Mum didn’t redecorate it after I moved out.”
“I still want to see it,” she says.
“Okay.” From the way neither of us makes a move to get out of bed, I know this is something that’s happeninglater.
“Can you tell me about her? Elena?” Grace asks, sending a pang through my chest. This time when my mind wanders to thoughts of my parents, of my mum, they aren’t quite as unbearable as when she first asked.
“She loved to cook, hence the enormous kitchen. I’m sure you’ve already seen her garden outside,” I say, althoughgardenseems like a tame way to describe it. It’s not exactly a small backyard garden. Little stone paths weave through the various plants, with an open area in the middle, complete with its own bench seat. It wasn’t completely enclosed, but you could almost forget where you were with the mix of trees and tall plants.
“Dad worked a lot, but he was always there if I needed him. They were both supportive in their own ways,” I say, running my hand over Grace’s back. “She would have liked you,” I say, pushing a piece of hair out of her face with my other hand.
“You think so?” she asks, searching my face.
“I’m sure of it. In fact, you’re a lot like her,” I tell her.
“I am?” Grace asks, but she averts her eyes, doubt creeping into her expression.
“Yes,” I say, matter of factly. “She was kind. Compassionate. She went through a lot before she met Dad, but she was strong. Just like you are.”
I lean down and kiss her softly—an intent sadness overcoming me that the two of them will never meet.