MADISON

After Caden left me stranded in the bathroom, confused about what just happened, I mustered up the strength to follow after him.

I was not letting this slide like it never happened.

I saw him! It wasn't just some instinct reaction about someone's safety. What happened had to do with something more, something he was concealing inside to prevent everyone from seeing.

He admitted he was in pain, and yes, he even made it obvious by almost killing Daisy. But what I saw in his eyes had nothing to do with losing his sister. He said he regretted what he did. So what was he suffering from?

How much devastation lies behind that gorgeous man who wanted me out of the bathtub?

Cautiously, I took hesitant steps to the kitchen where Caden was furiously throwing everything into the sink.

His shoulders were tensed, and all that was audible was the crash of dishes and spoons.

The place smelled like burnt sauce. It made me fear whether this is the right time, for he seems very angry.

I took two calming breaths to help steady my nerves: "Are we going to talk about what just happened?"

With his back to me, while he dumped the burnt pasta into the garbage disposal, he said, "The food, it's a little burnt though." His voice was gruff, as if he was struggling to calm himself.

"What was that?" I pressed instead, not caring about the food.

I needed to know why he was all panicked about the meditating thing.

"I will order pizza."

Oh dear God!

I can't have him doing this usual escape thing of his, where he tries to change the main subject despite how important the subject is.

So I softly pleaded: "Caden, please talk to me."

It got him to turn until our eyes connected.

He delayed before responding: "Some things are better the way they are."

I automatically stepped forward, in the medium-size towel wrapped around my body: "You don't understand..." I grabbed his hands in mine, looking up at him, desperately. "I need you to open up to me. I can't do this if I don't know who you are." My head was instinctively shaking.

His body was stiffened before me, while he quietly claimed: "You do know me more than all those I've come across. Isn't it enough?"

No! It's not... There's always something new about him. I don't understand.

"Caden. You're making it hard for me. When I thought I figured you out, some side of you I have no familiarity with appears. It happens regularly, and it's wearing me off."

Suddenly he leaned in, dipping his head. His eyes bore into mine. His hands slipped out from mine and cupped my cheeks.

"I-I am trying to be the person you want me to be."

He doesn't get it.

"I don't want you to be anything that you're not, Caden. I want to know you, let me love you. Let me share your difficulties and pains and happiness. Just let me in. It's you I want. I want the real you, along with the flaws and imperfections. It's still you I want. Can't you understand? I want Caden." I implored, desperately hoping he understands me.

I rest my hands to the sides of his waist before I continue.

"You're not happy, you're struggling. I can see it in your eyes. You may be able to fool others, but you're not fooling me." I frowned and swallowed. "Caden, you're going through pain, and it's getting the best of you. In the bathroom, I saw it... You're drowning in fear of something... What is it?" I begged.

"Drowning!" He thoughtfully repeated my word before he quietly observed me for a while and stepped away from me.

Is he angry? I don't understand.

"Please!" I implored, stepping closer to him again.

He glanced at me briefly with parted lips, as if he was weighing whether to talk or not.

"Growing up, my parents had always preferred Cara. When they helped her do homework and get ready for school, you know all those things parents do with their kids. I was expected to do everything for myself."

Through his statement, I had gradually weakened.

"That's unfair..." I whispered.

With his head cocked and his brow arched, he says, "Is it not?" He harshly swallows. "It never bothers me. I thought it was because she was a girl, and girls are more vulnerable. I mean, Cara is my twin sister, and I always wanted the best for her." He breathes.

"At the end of the day, she was the only one who listened to me. She was there as my best friend, as a sister, and somehow as my parents. Every night after mom or dad would tuck her into bed, she would sneak into my room to tuck me in too."

What?

"Then she died..." He swallows again. "And all that was taken away because she wanted me to follow after the ball we were playing with."

Did he think it was his fault?

"It was my fault, I know..." Okay, he believed that. "And I immediately knew I would live with it, but what sucks worse was when dad came out and found me standing over the body of my dead sister." He looked away, the vein on his neck pulsing as his Adam's apple sharply bulges in his throat. "The first thing he said to me was: bastard." He exhaled, pained. "And then he raises his hand, about to hit me, until a man stopped him..."

He was only a child. Why would dad accuse him of that?

"Oh my God!" I squeaked, my throat closing as tears welled up in my eyes.

His eyes came back to me, and they narrowed when they found mine.

He brought his hands to my face and tenderly used his thumbs to caress my cheeks. "Don't cry. It's okay. I am only telling you."

Gasping, I nodded in his hand.

"Maybe we should leave it for another time."

I shook my head. "No, I want to know. Tell me."

He smiled and kissed my forehead before pulling me into a hug.

I wrapped my arms around him as he leaned against the cabinets, with his chin resting on my head. His hand held my head to his racing chest, while the other moved up and down my bareback. It was soothing and very sensational. I could feel it everywhere in my body.

"After the ambulance had taken her body away, dad picked me back home in his blood-stained hands and got me into the quietness of the compartment. It was only the two of us when he held out his palms in my face and told me to memorize those ten fingers painted with my sister's blood because it will be there every time I close my eyes for the rest of my life."

How can dad be that fierce? I thought he was good. He had been good to me. Why not to his biological child?

"No!" I cried, burying my face in his chest.

Caden's heart rate has accelerated; it was pounding in his ribcage.

"And that curse seems to follow me... It never left since that day... I see red everywhere I go."

"I am so sorry, Caden." That was what I could mumble.

If I say I was surprised, I lied.

I've always known dad had something against Caden. But what doesn't make sense is the fact that Caden is his son. He doesn't deserve the treatment he was getting.

Does dad have any idea how strong that accusation is? And how discriminatory it was to blame a ten-year-old for something like that?

Does he have any idea how that burden could ruin a human's life?

"Ever since Cara's death, I have felt completely worthless. I never recognized myself. Until you."

He pulled back so he could see my tear-stained face but kept his hands circled around my waist.

"Seeing you under that tub earlier... It scared the shit out of me. I thought I was going to lose you too." He sadly confessed.

But it wasn't to hurt him. I just needed calm.

"I wasn't going anywhere. I was having a warm bath. It's just a bathtub." I partly whimpered.

"The one my mother drowned me in."

He said what?

Was that mentally? I mean: "What?"

"Told you I am messed up, Madison." He sneered and released me, sliding down to the floor of our kitchen. He sat against the cupboards with his long legs spread out in front of him.