“And she loved me,” he said, his eyes now filled with pain when he looked at me. “It took me a while after it all to remember that, but she loved me. It was always all about me as a kid. But looking back, I realized she would hold parts of herself back around my dad. It was just little things. Like, she used to sing all the time when he wasn’t there, but she wouldn’t sing around him. She was quieter. She deferred to him in everything, even things I’d seen her cope with on her own, understand by herself. And it was because he needed her to be that way; he needed to feel needed.
“But when she was with me she was take-charge. She knew what we were doing, where we were going. And she wanted a lot for me. That’s what I remember the most. She would tell me nearly every day how much she wanted me to have everything. Everything she never had.” He threw me a rueful smile that caused an ache in my chest near my heart. “She named me after some guy in a romance novel. She said his name made him sound like somebody, and she wanted me to be somebody when I grew up.”
“Is that why you’ve worked so hard to be somebody?”
He didn’t answer me. Instead he said, “Maybe you need to remember the best in your mom to forgive her, to move on.”
“How do you do that?” Since we’d already walked into territory I never thought we would, I decided to continue being brave. “I mean you’re obviously still furious and unforgiving over what my family—my father, my grandfather—did to your family. But you seem at peace with what your mother did.”
He frowned. “I’m not at peace with it. You can’t be at peace with something like that, just like I won’t ever be at peace with the fact that my father took his own life knowing it would leave me with no one. But I have to consider everything that they were both going through at the time, and I have to somehow find a way to move on knowing that I wasn’t enough to save either of them from their mistakes. So I remember the good stuff and most days it gets me through it. Not every day, but most days. I don’t believe you can make a firm decision to just forgive. Sometimes forgiveness can be won back, but there’s no one left around to earn that from me. So it’s about trying every day to be okay, to let it go. It takes work. There are days when it’s impossible to do that, and one of those times was the day you walked onto that set. I was pissed because you were trying to apologize for something that a simple ‘sorry’ can’t undo. It’s fucked, but it’s true.”
I nodded, understanding. “So you want to forgive your parents?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“I really do.”
“But …” I tugged on his hand, needing to know—perhaps hoping he would have the answers to help me. “After everything they took from you. Why?”
Caine stopped and faced me. There was a hard aspect in his gaze that I didn’t like. “I want to forgive them because … I know how easy it is to fall down a path you never meant to take. I know what it’s like to have done things I’m not proud of.”
“I don’t believe that. You could never have done the shameful things they did.”
At that Caine scowled and began to walk away again, this time no longer holding my hand.
Not understanding his reaction, I hurried to catch up. “Do you think I should forgive my father and grandfather?”
“I don’t know that either,” he said quietly. “I just know that kind of bitterness can eat you up from the inside out.” He softened. “You’ve got too much going for you to let that happen.”
I smiled, feeling an overwhelming amount of emotion for him surge up inside me. “You amaze me. You know that, right?”
Apparently, somehow, in all the hard subjects we’d just touched on, that was the wrong thing to say.
An uncomfortable silence swelled between us.
And I pushed. “You don’t think you’re amazing?”
He looked at me sternly. “No. And I don’t want you to either.”
“Caine—”
“It’s not about pushing you away,” he interrupted, anger in his eyes. “It’s about making sure you don’t start seeing something in me that doesn’t exist.” He shook his head and looked away. “You wanted friendship between us? Well, the truth is you are my friend, Lexie. And I don’t like disappointing my friends. So don’t pretend I’m a man I’m not.”
What Caine didn’t realize was that he couldn’t disappoint me. We’d had a more than rocky start, a more than complicated history, but I was still standing by his side, and I wanted to keep standing by his side, because I didn’t think he even realized how good a man he was.
My whole life I’d been terrified of making the same mistake as my mother—of falling for a man who wasn’t worthy without even realizing I was wasting my heart on him. Because of that fear I’d never truly let myself fall.
But Caine Carraway was not Alistair Holland.
Caine was ambitious and hardworking. He was strong and stubborn and ruthless, but he was also this contradiction. He could be kind and compassionate and generous.
And even if I didn’t understand him sometimes, even if I didn’t agree with him on occasion, I would never, ever be disappointed in him.
However, I knew him well enough to recognize that look in his eyes. That obstinate glint. So for once I let it go.
“I’m buying you ice cream.” I held out my hand for him.