Page 41 of Secrets That Bind Us

I could listen to her talk all day about whatever she finds interesting. I want to find it interesting, too. So I ask, “What else?”

Her pencil stops sketching and she hums softly. “When there’s no sun, they turn to each other, sharing their energy. Their warmth.”

“Let me do that.”

“Do what?”

“Be your infinite. Your warmth. ”

Her brows come together. “You already are…”

I swallow as the memory of the side eye and smirk she flashed at me fades away. “Is that… the gumball necklace I got you?”

Her hand goes up to her neck, and a blush rises on her cheeks. “Yeah, I um… I got it dipped in gold about twelve years back.”

My heart. I clear my throat, doing my best to tamper down my emotions, but can’t stop the smile that spreads on my face. “So, dinner?”

She grins and motions with her head for me to come inside. “C’mon.”

I catch a small twang in the simple word, and my heart soars a bit.

The food is fucking delicious and tastes just like Mama Marie’s.

If I think about it hard enough, I can almost feel her sitting across from me, watching me devour her food like I used to.

The roast is tender, the carrots and potatoes, too.

I hold back a groan, but it ends up coming out anyway, and it makes Verity smile.

“Good?”

“The fucking best, I swear.” Her smile turns into a grin at my reply, and I feel so fucking happy just being here.

With her. All that’s missing is our kids, but I know what tonight is about.

We gotta clear the air before we can put the past behind us and move on.

Move forward. It feels like a thunder cloud over my head, but I know this has to be that painfully awkward talk.

It seems we’re both intent on keeping the peace for now, the sound of our forks and knives scraping on the plates the only noise between us.

She takes a sip of her blood red wine, and that’s exactly the kind of woman I knew she’d grow up to be. But then she clears her throat. “I have to ask you something.”

I nod while taking another bite. “Go ahead.”

“Did you know Reverend Bishop was – is – my biological father?”

I almost choke on my potato. “Christ, starting with the hard questions.” I clear my throat and take a sip of water. “Okay. Yeah. I found out about two years ago when your mama was on her deathbed.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Mama told you? Why would she tell you?”

Shit. Tonight’s not gonna be easy.

“Because I was here , Verity. I lived in the guest bedroom while I went to community college, then again when I went into the police academy. Once I moved out, I was still here. For her. Because you weren’t.

” She grimaces, but hey, she wanted the truth, and there’s just no sugar-coating this.

“I’m the one that made the changes around here when she started getting sick.

I made sure she had groceries, essentials.

It wasn’t much, but I did what I could with a rookie cop salary. How did you find out?”

“She left me a letter.”

I tell her I’m the one that encouraged Marie to do so. “She was scared to tell you. But she didn’t want to die without you knowing.”

“Have you told anyone?”

I shake my head, a little appalled she could even think I would ever tell her secrets.

“Look, Verity, Marie was different in the end. Subtle changes over the years. She was a lot happier, but she had these… moments where it was like she was ready to let it all go. So I would let her. Especially once they said the final tests showed no difference. I probably knew her more than the Reverend. Quite possibly even more than you. I respected and loved your Mama more than my own, to be honest. So no. It was not my story to tell. Figured if you ever found out, you should probably seek the answers you’re looking for from the man himself, not me. ”

She thumbs the stem of her wine glass, staring at it, her thumb circles the bottom of the glass, swiping through the condensation.

Her eyes go up to the ceiling, as though she’s searching for the right words to say, and all that comes out is, “I am so fucking tired of this fucking town and all its goddamn secrets. I am so fucking sick of everyone keeping things from me like I can’t handle them. I just want the truth for once!”

“Okay then, baby, you want the truth? Then let’s dish this out. You weren’t privy to a lot of things because you decided not to reach out. You decided this little town wasn’t good enough for you anymore. And the people in it.”

Her head snaps to me and her eyes narrow. “How dare you?”

I scoff, feeling the turmoil inside me increase sevenfold.

“How dare I? ” She can’t be fucking serious.

“You can’t be fucking serious. I fell for you, Verity.

That’s how I dare. I fell for you in no way another man has ever fallen for another woman.

I fell for you so hard I didn’t just hit the ground and bruise my knees, baby .

I scraped through each layer of skin and muscle until bone was showing.

And that’s where you stayed. In the very marrow of my fuckin’ bones.

In my tendons, muscles, and every blood vessel in my body.

And I know this because every single beat of my heart has been yours since I won that race for you in second grade and you were my girlfriend for three blessed weeks.

“You think I don’t know I’m insane?” I tap my finger to my temple.

“You think I don’t know how crazy it is that I got latched on to the girl with pigtails at eight years old?

And then you left without looking back. Fuck me, Verity, if you didn’t want me to fall for you the way I did, you never should’ve let me kiss you that first time. ”

“I told you I wasn’t going to come back!”

“I thought I was the exception!” My voice cracks and I sit up straighter, only to bow my head before peering back at her. I take a deep breath and let it go. “I thought I was the exception.”

She stiffens and squares her shoulders on the defense, but I ain’t the one. “We were sixteen and you were helping me.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, cut the fucking shit. We were sixteen and I already knew you belonged to me, Ver. I knew it then, I know it now, and it will never not be, baby.”

“Why didn’t you let me go? Why didn’t you find someone else? Every woman in this godforsaken town is some degree of in love with you. You could’ve lived a full life and left me behind, too. You had every single chance to get away from this hellhole, and you didn’t.”

I slam my fists down on the table, swearing I can hear the table crack beneath my fists.

“Because we’re end game!” I gesture between us.

“Because there was always that possibility that you were coming back to me, and I didn’t want to be tied down to someone I loved barely a fraction of how I love you!

Sure, I thought it would happen when your mama died, but there was always hope in me that you would come back to me, and I wanted you to be able to find me. ”

“Why didn’t you come to me? For me? I waited for years for you in New York.”

“ I did!” I admit, slinking back into my seat, the hurt I had burrowed deep inside that day resurfacing.

Whiskey eyes go wide at my declaration. “What?”

“As soon as I was cleared by my physical therapist, and I was financially able, I flew to New York. I spent six weeks there tracking you down. Which, by the way, Zoey did not make it easy. That’s fine, I understand it.

She thinks everyone is unworthy of you, and she’s fucking right to some degree, probably.

But by the time I got you, you had dropped out of college and lived in some high-rise.

Ver, I stood outside of that building, across the street for hours , sunflowers in hand, and when you finally came down…

That motherfucker was with you, and you were pushing a stroller. ”

I can see the agony etching on her face as this truth dawns on her.

“And you thought she was his.” She gasps, but she sounds sorrowful, in disbelief.

My heart descends completely, reliving that memory of Micah leaning over the baby inside like a proud father, and I can’t breathe. “And I thought she was his… and I let him raise her.” That’s the part. That’s the part that hurts me the most. The part that haunts me.

“Dean!” The way her heart breaks for us, for what we could’ve been if she hadn’t let Micah get close– and if I had just not been a fucking coward– hurts me more than my own. “ Years !” Is all she says, a croak in her voice but no tears. “ Years wasted .”

“I know.” It’s all I can say, because the rage still bubbling inside of me isn’t lessening.

It’s growing. I’m furious with myself. Furious with her.

With him. With Zoey for not telling me where Verity was.

Angry with who I used to be, mainly. A coward.

That anger claws at me like a beast, waking, and I can’t stand to look at the food anymore. But I have to ask.

I stare at her, the woman that’s held my heart for the last twenty-two fucking years, and I blurt the question out. “Do you even know what happened that night, Verity? The night you left?”

“Not until after I got to New York.” She replies wearily, as though the truth of everything being spoken of right now is just too much, and I know it is.