Cage looks at me as though he’s analyzing me and trying to figure out how much he should share. Of course. Same old Cage. He was always trying to figure out how much information to let people know about. It was one of the many things we fought about while we were dating. He kept a lot of things to himself, especially about his dad, but then again, I can’t really blame him. Cage always really loved and admired his dad, and well, Betty and he were never really super close.
“I heard my mom passed away.”
“Yes.”
“I wasn’t here.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“You were,” he says.
“Yes.”
“Were the two of you...close?”
Ah, so that’s why he’s here. He knows she left everything in my name. Did he visit her attorney this morning? He must have. I wonder if Arnold called me to warn me that Cage was in town or not. It’s not really the type of thing he’d need to warn me about, but I haven’t even checked my phone. Maybe my attorney called or emailed me to let me know. Maybe he figured I didn’t need to know because Cage would be leaving right away.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
“Dammit,” Cage growls, stepping closer to me, and I take a step back. I hate how handsome he still is. He’s not a huge guy, but he fills up my cabin. His presence takes up a lot of room. A lot. I don’t know how much of this I’ll be able to handle.
He looks me up and down. For a second, I think he might reach out and touch me, but Cage has never been the type of guy to grab a woman.
Not even when he’s mad.
“What aren’t you telling me?” He asks.
“Probably about five years’ worth of information,” I spit out. “Now what the fuck do you want, Cage?”
“I want to know why she left you everything.”
So, there it is.
I figured he’d be mad, but he’s not. He looks...hurt, almost.
Pained.
Regretful?
Does he wish he’d never left town without so much as a goodbye?
Does he wish he’d reached out to his mother before it was too late?
I know Betty never stopped hoping he’d come home. We didn’t talk about Cage too much. Not until the end. Then she used to say she wished she could find him. She wished she had one last chance to make things right with her little boy.
This is my chance.
This is the moment when I tell him everything.
This is where I tell him that he’s a dad, but I don’t know how to put it.
“Sit down, Cage.”
He’s surprised.
“What?”
“Sit down.” I gesture to one of my worn kitchen chairs.