Read Because I Love You Online
Authors: Tori Rigby
“Actually, I forgot”—he stepped into the room—“I have an errand I need to run for my mom. So, sorry to bail last minute, but I’m going to need to go.” He held his hand out to my mother. “Thanks for the offer, though, Ms. Hamilton. Everything smells great.”
Mom shook his hand. “Well, why don’t I give you some to go?”
Neil flashed her a smile. “It’s no problem. I can take a rain check. Besides, we have so much food in our house, I doubt my mom would appreciate it if I brought more home.”
Mom smiled, but I cringed. That was a blatant lie. He was leaving the best meal he’d get all week, and all because of me. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“Later, Andie,” he said with a sad smile. He nodded at Jill then exited through the garage. I flinched when the door closed. Why did I feel the same way as when Dad left for a business trip—afraid I’d never see him again? The bite hit my chest like a sting from a gigantic bee on steroids.
“Okay, girls,” Mom said, “shall we pray?”
When she started talking, I closed my eyes and said my own prayer. I didn’t thank God for food or friendship or whatever Mom usually asked for. I begged him to help me get through the next few months without giving in and ruining Neil’s life. Because I didn’t know if I could.
Anxiously, I sat through dinner as Jill flattered my mother to the point of no return, telling stories of her Native American ancestors and the crazies who came into her mother’s jewelry store. For how not-hungry I was, I managed to eat two full plates before Jill announced she had to be going. The baby must’ve really wanted dinner.
“How was your day?” Mom asked as we washed dishes.
If I told her what really happened, she’d go on a rampage through the halls of River Springs Prep, craving blood. Instead, I stuck with, “I don’t think I’m going back. Not this year, at least.”
Mom frowned. “I’m sorry, honey.”
Me, too.
But at least I wouldn’t have to see Neil’s handsome face every day or the way his eyes creased in the corners when his smile was
100
percent natural. Not to mention, I didn’t think I could take one more of his sister’s pranks. If it hadn’t been for Jill—and Neil—I never would’ve made it out of there in one piece.
After I dried the last dish, I said goodnight to Mom, but she stopped me. “Before you go upstairs, we need to talk.”
Nodding, I sat at the table. My stomach put on an acrobatic performance. Mom dried her hands and joined me, pulling an envelope out of her purse and handing it to me. On the front was a watermark from Bethlehem Family Services. My heart smacked against my ribs.
“That’s everything I have on your birth parents. It’s not much; I know. But it’s a start. I don’t want you to be in the dark anymore about where you came from. The plan was to share this with you when you turned eighteen. But with everything that happened the other night, I’m thinking this will help give you a little closure. Are you still planning to keep the baby?”
I nodded. My throat felt like sandpaper.
Mom sighed. “Oh, honey.” She paused and scratched her forehead. “I still stand by my belief that you’d be better off placing your baby for adoption. You’d be surprised how easily parents fall in love with a child entrusted to their care.”
We’re seriously having this conversation again?
I was about to refuse when she raised a finger.
“But I will do whatever I can to help you. Just don’t shut me out.”
“Really? I thought . . . Well, I never expected you to be on board.”
“I’m not.” She stood. “But I love you, Andrea.” Mom touched my cheek. “And so you know, not a day has gone by where I haven’t loved you like my own. Let me know what you find out about your birth parents, okay?”
A lump caught in my throat. She kissed my forehead then wandered upstairs to take a bath. Alone, I stared at the envelope, terrified by what I might find inside. Would I be disappointed? For years, I’d always thought my
adoptive
-mother was stuck up and nosy, and I would’ve been overjoyed to learn I wasn’t hers. But now, I couldn’t imagine being someone else’s kid.
Yet, if I didn’t know where
I
came from, how could I hope to tell my baby about its family? And finding out more about my biological parents didn’t mean I was leaving or betraying the ones who’d raised me.
I needed to know.
Heartbeat thrashing in my ears, I sprinted upstairs, closed my door, and then sat on my bed. I opened the envelope with shaking hands. At least ten pages were stapled together. My breath caught.
I should be doing this with Neil
. I shook my head.
No, you can do this yourself
. I opened the papers.
On top was a copy of my original birth certificate. Born May seventh in Aspen, weighing exactly seven pounds. My parents’ names and addresses were missing, but everything else about that day was listed—the hospital, the exact time of my birth, my parents’ ages, their occupations. I rubbed a hand against my chest.
Beneath the birth certificate were forms they’d filled out for the adoption agency. Again, their names and addresses were blacked out, but everything else about them—hair color, eye color, interests, ethnicity, medical history—was all there.
I was mostly German and looked like my mother—blonde hair, blue eyes, thin, and not very tall. She was just eighteen when she delivered me. A teenager too. My father was an athlete, and my mother loved science. They were both pretty healthy—skin cancer on my father’s side—and they were both from Aspen, Colorado. My birthplace.
Clutching the papers, I smiled, a lump in my throat. I ached to call Neil, not because I felt helpless but because I felt
hopeful
. He’d understand my elation. But I couldn’t. Not if I wanted to stick to my decision to stay away.
Not if I wanted to save him from me.
I called Jill instead. Her voice was super perky when she answered, and I couldn’t help but grin as I told her about the paperwork. She squealed and promised we would start researching tomorrow. Although, I wasn’t sure I wanted to find them. What do you say to the parents who gave you up? But Jill was so enthusiastic; I couldn’t say no. At the very least, maybe we’d uncover more information or family history. And that’d be good, right?
After twenty more minutes of chatting with Jill, I tucked the envelope in the drawer of my nightstand and then crawled into bed. I clutched the polar bear Neil bought me at the zoo and let sleep take me.
chapter sixteen
The house was empty when I came down the next morning. A note on the counter read:
Take today to relax. I’ll stop by your school to figure out what we can do to keep you current. See you later. Love, Mom.
Smiling, I helped myself to a huge bowl of cereal then wandered to the office at the front of the house. I rarely used the room, but it was the one place with a computer.
Overprotective mother equals monitored computer usage.
Usually, I used my cell phone for the Internet where my mom couldn’t track every single click—she refused to buy me a laptop—but for the research I wanted to do, I needed more than access to mobile websites. With no one home and nothing to do until Mom and my guidance counselor figured out how to handle the rest of junior year, I’d get a jump start on the research Jill and I planned to do. Mom knew I’d read what was in the envelope from the adoption agency. She couldn’t blame me for seeking out as many details as I could find.
I pulled up my favorite search engine and looked up children born in Aspen on my birthday, hoping there’d be some sort of record as to who the parents were. A few websites were dedicated to people posting “listings” for their birth parents, but none were helpful. Frowning, I tried a few more searches but again got zero results. Growling through my teeth, I closed the browser and smacked the power button on the monitor. I was going to have to wait for Jill and her rocket-scientist brain.
My phone dinged. A text from Heather. I tapped the notification with my thumb.
Heard ur not coming back. Good. Couldn’t have a preggo chick on the cheerleading squad anyway. Beth sez thanks for the co-captain spot.
I clutched the device tight in my hand and tried not to chuck it against the wall as my lungs forgot how to breathe. Between Carter’s denial and Heather’s betrayal—
I threw my cell phone onto the carpet, leaned back in the chair, and pressed my fists against my forehead, squeezing my eyes closed and holding my breath. I would not scream. I would not cry.
But I couldn’t deny: I wanted my old life back.
I tried counting to ten, attempting to calm myself like I usually could, and failed. I leaned forward, pressed my forehead against the desk, and wrapped my arms around my waist as sob after sob wracked through my body.
This wasn’t how my life was supposed to be. Sitting at home, doing God knows what to finish school, scheduling appointments with OB/GYNs.
Doing it all alone.
I shut off my emotions. If I couldn’t feel the pain, then I could get through this. No more thinking or feeling—just waking up every morning, doing what I had to, and going back to sleep. Maybe I could just pretend my life was as it used to be.
Sitting up, I wiped the tears from my cheeks, took a deep breath, and stood, grabbing my phone off the floor. I deleted the text from Heather and blocked her number before deleting her from my contacts. So, she had teamed up with Beth against me? Screw her. Screw them both!
After stuffing my face again, I wandered upstairs and grabbed a book off the shelf above my desk. Reading would keep my brain preoccupied. That would be the key—don’t let myself think. If I didn’t think, I couldn’t hurt. I cracked open the novel.
I was about halfway through
The Great Gatsby
when someone knocked on my door. Mom stood in the entryway, her expression tense.
“Something wrong?” I asked, my stomach slightly flipping. So much for shutting off my emotions.
Mom stepped into my room and crossed her arms. “Why didn’t you tell me what happened at school yesterday?”
I frowned. I hoped we wouldn’t have to have this conversation. “Because I didn’t want to.”
Mom plopped on the bed, across from me. “Well, I stopped to visit with your guidance counselor about finishing your classes online, and she told me what happened in chemistry. This Beth Donaghue girl . . . I want to press charges.”
A chill ran down my spine. “No. Mom, please, don’t do that.” As much as I hated Beth, she was Neil’s sister, and taking her to court would put another strain on him that he didn’t need. Especially when they were scraping by as it was. If we sued, her uncle would never pay for lawyer bills, even though he had more money than most of us could count. Which meant it would be up to Neil to fork over the payment.
I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to forgive Beth for what she did, but I couldn’t let my mom hurt Neil in the process.
“Andie, that video was harassment.”
“Yeah, and she harassed
me
.” I grabbed Mom’s hand. “Please, let it go.”
She and I stared at each other until she sighed. “I’m at least going to talk to her mother. She needs to be aware—okay, what aren’t you telling me?”
I popped my lip out from between my teeth. I didn’t realize I was squeezing Mom’s hand that hard.
I let her go and sat back. “Beth’s family is . . . complicated.” How else could I explain it without giving away the entire Donaghue sob story?
“Yes, I know about her father’s death and her mother’s problems. But Beth’s mom still needs to know what her daughter did to you.”
“Mom,
please
.” I tugged on my hair. “If I can let it go, so should you. They already have enough going on without threatening a lawsuit.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Neil Donaghue, does it?”
My stomach fell.
How did she know?
He’d used Owen’s last name.
Mom let out a disgusted noise. “I knew when I saw that kid that he wasn’t a
Danielson
. Please stay away from that boy.”
I leaned away from her, my cheeks hot, and crossed my arms. “He’s my friend, and he’s been nothing but kind to me since all of this started.”
“Andrea, you have to trust me here. That boy is nothing but bad news.”
“Oh, yeah? How would you know?”
“Because I’ve known his mother a long time, and he has quite the reputation amongst the girls at the university.”
I ground my teeth and slammed my book on the bed. “Yeah, Mom, he built that reputation
on purpose
. I’ve been to his house. I’ve seen the handprints his mother leaves on his face. Did you know he was the one who came after me when my cheerleading squad wrote whore on my locker? He was the one who picked me up from the Mini Mart and took care of me when I was hurt. And he was the one who saved me from his sister when she humiliated me with that stupid video.”
“Honey, you’re also an easy target right now. This is what he does.”
I snarled, jumping off the bed. “You know, I was
just
like you when I met him. Judgmental. Bitchy, even.” She gaped at me. “But he is
not
like that. Sure, he’s not perfect, but look at me!” I motioned to my growing belly. “Neither am I. You are
not
going to pull me down the rabbit hole and convince me to despise him when he and Jill are the only two friends I have left!”