Fauxmance (Showmance #2)(76)
Dad blinked, and it looked like he was holding back tears. In all my life, I’d only ever seen my father cry a handful of times, so to see that emotion in him now really did a number on me. He looked away, trying to get himself together.
“You remember what I was like as a kid?” I went on. “I couldn’t talk to anyone, and when I did, I went into panic mode every time. Over the years it’s gotten a little better, but not by much.” I let out a joyless laugh. “I must’ve been born defective or something.”
“Please don’t talk about yourself like that, Ellen. You went through so much, losing your mother.”
“But I don’t even remember her. When I look at pictures, I might as well be looking at a stranger.”
Dad fell silent and I studied him. He appeared to have something to say but was conflicted.
“Dad, what is it?”
He leaned forward and held his head in his hands, not replying. When he finally sat back, I got a chill down my spine, because there were horrors in his eyes, horrors and regrets and infinite sadness.
“I always told the three of you that your mother died in a car accident, because it was easier. There was no way to tell a child the truth. But then, as you grew older, it got even harder. I didn’t want to explain why I lied, so I just went on allowing you to believe it.”
Wait, what?
“You lied?” I asked in disbelief.
He looked miserable, but then, he seemed determined to see this through, to tell me the truth. My entire body tensed as if for a blow.
“I took Nick with me to work one Saturday, and your mother stayed home with you and Cameron. You were only a toddler, barely two years old, and Cameron was about to turn five. Three men broke into the house, intending to steal our valuables. I still don’t know exactly what happened, but the police pieced it together.”
He paused to draw breath, like the pain was still fresh. My heart pounded. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. All my life I’d known that certain facts were true, and now they were being flipped on their head.
When Dad spoke again, he took my hand in his. His warm palms were a soothing contrast to the awful story he told. “The police said your mother must’ve walked in on the thieves. One of them struck her on the head with a blunt object. They might not have intended to kill her, only incapacitate her, but the blow was fatal. It was hours before I got home with Nick and found you all. They’d tied Cameron up and locked him in the bathroom. He was shaken and traumatised, but he hadn’t witnessed his mother’s death, didn’t really know had happened. But you…”
“But I?” I prompted, heart in my throat. I had a sick feeling I knew what was coming, but I daren’t believe it.
“I found you on the floor, in the same room where your mother’s body lay lifeless, crying your eyes out. Up until that day, you had started to speak. Your development was on a level with any other two-year-old. You were just starting to form sentences. But after… after you went quiet, never spoke. For a full year you were silent, only making a sound when something upset you and you cried. When you finally did start talking again, it was only to me, Cameron, or Nick. With anyone outside the family, you were mute until after you started school.”
Tears rose to the surface. The very fact of who I was suddenly made sense after twenty-nine years of life. And Cameron, God, was this why he was so unhappy all the time? Were we still suffering from post-traumatic stress, even after all these years?
I stood and walked to the window, looking out at the view. I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling a chill, letting the facts my father had just revealed sink in. A vision of the break-in went through my head; Mum’s fear, my terror, and poor Cameron being tied up.
“What about the men who did it? Did they catch them?”
Dad exhaled. “Yes, several months later they caught them after another robbery a few towns away. They went to prison. It was a small justice when compared with the fact I’d lost my wife, the mother of my children.”
A tear fell down my cheek. “Oh, Dad.”
He sucked in a breath. “It was a long time ago, but sometimes the memory is still so fresh.”
I frowned sadly, then an awful thought struck. “Did it happen here?”
Dad rubbed a hand over his face. “No. I moved us away soon after your mum passed. It was too hard to stay in a place where such awful things had happened, and I…I feared someone might say something to you kids as you got older. Here, nobody knew us. It was a fresh start.”
“Good.” I was glad I hadn’t grown up there, and that my dad had the means to move us away. Still, my brothers needed to know the truth, and it had to be Dad who told them.
“You need to tell Nick and Cam,” I said quietly.
“I know, and I will when the time is right. I’m so sorry I never told you, Ellen. I’ve never been good at expressing my feelings, but I love you so much and I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for you. In my foolishness, I thought the lie was better for you than the truth.”
I turned to look at him. “Maybe it was better. I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like having that knowledge at a young age. It could’ve messed me up even worse.”
“You’re not angry?”
My heart clenched at the vulnerability in his eyes. “Why would I be angry? None of what happened is your fault. You tried to protect us. You were alone in the world with three small children and you did what you thought was best.”