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"I would rather be a good man than a great king." – Thor (AKA: My husband. 💀)

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Chapter 53
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I gladly placed the final assignment to the side. I'd been working on them for at least two hours. Tonight, I didn't have any shifts to cover at work, thankfully.

I wasn't that surprised when my teachers gave me the extra work even though Kade and I had finished a good load of it a few days ago. I couldn't say I wasn't disappointed though.

My head raised from the papers as I heard the beep of my phone, alarming me that Kade had responded to my message. We both had been so busy today.

Tonight, he had to train at the cages. I wasn't sure what time he would finish, but I knew that it wouldn't be early. From what I knew, it would definitely take a toll on him physically, as much as I didn't want it to. If I couldn't stop him, I was at least happy that he would be prepared.

Before he would go to the cages, he had a session with his aunt. I didn't get the information out of him willingly. I figured it out from the many calls he declined from his Aunt Caylee. When I asked him about it, all I received was a 'yeah' and then silence.

I tapped my pencil against my knee as I thought about what would be discussed in his session. Was his aunt making any progress? Did Kade tell her about our relationship? About our conversation in the woods?

Just as these questions began to disperse, new ones appeared.

Borderline Personality Disorder. I knew little about it, but I still wondered. Did he feel disunited from his emotions? What was it like for him to deal with these things on his own for so long?

I was one who hated being pitied. But, at the thought of someone feeling as if they were less than others', as if their emotions didn't matter just because society labeled them with a stamp of disapproval...it swiped at my heart with a dagger.

I tried my hardest to remember bits and pieces our conversation in the woods about the way he described himself. A ticking time-bomb. From the last few months, I could see that there were things that could trigger Kade. I wanted to know if there was anything else that I should be cautious of. I knew that every single mental illness had different aspects, so I could guess that it wasn't a exact replica of anxiety. But, I knew both were things people struggled with daily. Anything could trigger that place in your head, almost making it impossible to find a way out.

I reached for my phone, unlocking it with a single swipe. I didn't want to make Kade think that he was a project because he was far from that. I was truly interested in learning more about borderlines.

I bit my finger as I waited for the page to load. As I read through, I remembered how Kade called himself unfixable and crazy. That made my blood sizzle with anger.

From what I gathered, a borderline was a person who had trouble understanding, processing, or comprehending the intensity of their emotions. At any triggered moment, their insecurities could flood their emotions and overtake their words, or their actions, even if they don't intend for it to happen. Especially anger.

They were hypersensitive to rejection. In other words, they may not react the same as someone who does not have the disorder when rejected or neglected. They may react with impulsive or aggressive behaviors if they felt excluded, abandoned, or rejected. Some of these were situations that may appear normal or less serious to a person without the disorder, but a person with it had emotions that were very complex, and much more intensive than our own. After an episode, said person could feel an overwhelming feeling of guilt for how they reacted, or how it hurt their loved ones. As his aunt said, everything that we felt was multiplied by a million for them.

As I read on, I learned that they could suffer from persistently unstable self-image, heavy fear of abandonment, dissociation, feelings of emptiness, and impulsive, self-destructive, or unpredictable behavior. I couldn't recall Kade's age when the symptoms began to show, but it was most dominant in adolescent or adult years.

Some of the internet comments shared tips on how to evolve a relationship, intimate or not, with a person who has the disorder. Others made sure to voice their opinion on how borderlines were better off alone, and that it would be best to leave the relationship before it even started.

I felt my body flush hot with anger once I read the next comment. Someone even went so far as to call borderlines by several profanities, and that it wasn't possible for someone with BPD to continue a steady relationship.

I placed my phone down as I read, wiping my palms on my jeans. I couldn't read anymore of it. It was a lot to take in, but I did know something for sure.

Kade was not a monster. He wasn't just a personality disorder, or an experiment. He was a human. A complex human who just needed an extra heap of understanding, and patience. I didn't consider BPD an error in him, or anyone for that matter. No mental illness or disorder was.

Mental illnesses were terrible on several accounts, yes, but that didn't make the person terrible, as well. Sure, the world would be better off without mental illnesses, but to make someone who suffers from one feel negative and unappreciated about themselves was wrong. It was something no one could control.

Just because we had to work harder to stabilize our emotions didn't make us entirely different, unstable, or unworthy from society. We still had hearts. They made us what we are today, and hell, we're fighters.

Every single day was a war, and every single day that we kept fighting was an act of bravery. Such bravery.

Kade's heart was stepped on by life too many times, and that wasn't okay. But, it was okay to hurt, as long as he didn't use that hurt on someone else. It would never truly heal him like he wanted.

I knew that our relationship would be difficult. It wouldn't be kisses and roses. We would both have to put in the extra work, but I promised myself and Kade that I wouldn't give up on him. I knew he would do the same for me, he'd taught me to love every single thing that I'd despised for so long without asking for anything in return.

I would continue to read, to learn and try to communicate with him about his disorder. I read that there were often signs, or warnings that a person with BPD learned from their therapy. I didn't know for sure with Kade, but if he did have them, or if he had a couple boundaries as I do with my anxiety, then I wanted to know.

I wanted to know him. All of him. Because to me, he was the most beautiful boy in this world. And, I wasn't just talking about the outside.

I massaged my temples to soothe my headache. I needed to get something in my stomach.

I looked at my door as I heard someone on the other side knock. "Come in," I called out.

My dad stood in the doorway, smiling. "Hey, Kim."

I smiled back. "Hi, dad." My smile morphed into a frown as his eyes fell to the carpet. "Is everything okay?"

He caught himself nodding, trying to rekindle the same smile. "Yeah, baby, everything's alright. Did you get your school work done?" He motioned toward the end of my bed where my papers were.

I nodded. "Yeah, I just finished actually."

His head bobbed. "Good, good," he mumbled. "Well, dinner's almost ready. Teresa is showing us how to make her famous lasagna."

Just as he finished speaking, I heard Teresa yell from the kitchen, "Jackson, get your ass in here and learn how to layer a lasagna."

Dad clicked his tongue. "Ah, my first name. That's how you know it's serious," he chuckled, as did I. "Well, I'm going to get back in there before Ryland drops the noodles."

I nodded my head. "Have fun. I'll be there in a second."

He nodded, turning around to exit the room. He caught my attention once more when I heard his footsteps retreating back to my bedroom, rather than away.

His head popped in. "Actually, uh..." he took a moment. "Everything's not okay."

My eyebrow raised in surprise, then concern. "What is it? Are you feeling bad? Here, sit." I stood, stepping closer to him.

My father waved me off with a single hand. "I'm alright. I just wanted to see if you were okay. Are you?"

I nodded. "Yeah, don't worry about—"

He shook his head, ceasing my words with some of his own. "Nonsense, baby. You're always caring and worrying for everyone else before yourself. I wanted to make sure that you were alright. I know things have been difficult with the move here and your mom contacting you." The dip in his voice reeked of guilt.

I didn't respond immediately. Just at the mention of her, my blood ran cold. In all honesty, I'd been suppressing everything that involved Diane Drude for a couple of weeks now. This was probably damaging to do, and probably even unhealthy. But, I knew that it would be easier than dealing with the memory of my mother head-on.

"Oh, Kim," my dad murmured, pulling me to him. "It's okay to be angry or hurt or—"

"I don't know what I feel, dad," I mumbled to more myself than him. "It's all just..." I couldn't find the right words to explain the pressure I felt on my chest.

For a moment, as my dad wrapped his arms around me, I felt safe. As if nothing could hurt me. Then, I remembered that there was a world outside of my fathers' arms. A dangerous one.

A part of me still felt like the little girl that ran into my dads' arms as I saw him pull into my mother's driveway. The little girl that thought everything would be fine from then on out. If only that little girl knew better.

It was hard to believe that after these years, after the abuse, the tears, after everything...my mother still sought communication. As bad as it was, my curiosity struggled to stay in it's confinement. Even if it hurt me, I wanted to hear her reasonings for the mistreatment. Though nothing could mend or explain, or even attempt to excuse her abuse. She'd never have an excuse for it, but I guess I hoped she would have an explanation.

My chest sucked in. "Sometimes, I wonder if everything was my fault..." I mumbled into his shoulder. "I feel like I'm still that little girl blaming herself for the pain, you know? Like I'm in a constant loop of guilt that it happened, and sadness that I still wanted her to reach out."

My dad shook his head, holding me at arms length. "Look at me," his fingers lifted my chin. "You listen, and you listen now."

He sighed. "Baby, her and I both made our mistakes. Mistakes in life and mistakes in our relationship. Out of all of those, you were the only positive thing to come out of it. You know what happened between us, but I've never really let you in on my own feelings during the time we were apart," his words were quiet, but loud to me. "Without you in my arms, I felt like something was missing. It felt like I was slowly killing myself because my baby girl wasn't around. When I finally got you, after so many tears, so many battles...I knew that you were and are my sunshine."

My heart was beating too hard in my chest. "Dad—"

"No, no. Let me finish," he said. "My old man...he was one of the worst people in the fathering department. Beatings for the simplest things. I promised myself that my child would never feel the way I did."

I watched as his brown eyes began to sparkle with tears. My own followed.

"Kimberly, I am so sorry that I broke that promise. I'm so sorry that you had to endure her for so long," his voice broke. "Diane has always had a lot of demons, but I'll be damned if I ever let that be an excuse to hurt my baby," his neck bobbed as he swallowed, his head dropping. "I could never imagine all of the things you went through in that house. I wish I could just erase it all from your memory. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me for not getting you out of there sooner. You deserve a better father—"

I shook my head in complete disagreement. "No, dad. Don't do that to yourself."

I cocked my head, a tear slipping down my cheek. "Did you know that I thought you were an actual angel sent from heaven? Because...you saved my life. It doesn't matter how late or how early. You saved me, dad."

"Kimberly," he croaked my name, the lining of his eyes wet.

"One day, she will get what she deserves," I continued. "She'll see that I have a family, that I made and found my own. With you, Ryland, and even Teresa. And, that's enough for me. I know that you tried so hard...and I'll never forget that. That house, my brothers, her...they were a living hell. But, I have never resented you. I never will. I will always love you. Nothing, not even her, could change that, dad."

His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking a tear away. "I love you, too, honey." My dad smiled, his eyes still glossy. "What did I do to deserve you?"

I returned a soft smile. "I ask myself that every day."

We stood, our arms tightening around each other. His own kept me against him so tight, I'd never felt so confined. My chest did feel slightly less constricted after that confession.

"Come on," he released me. "Let's go see what's going on in the kitchen."

I followed behind him. The scent of lasagna hit me as soon as we tossed the corner. "Whoa."

"Damn it, go sit down before you rip the dough," Teresa demanded Ryland, who rolled his eyes.

With a glare, he did what she said. "I'm not going to school to become a chef," he retorted, earning a glare from Teresa.

I chuckled at them, taking a step closer. "Things are pretty tense in here, huh?"

"Yes, because Ryland thinks it's so difficult to roll out dough," Teresa responded. "I mean it's literally two moves, how hard can it be?"

Ryland sat up in the chair, glaring at her. "It kept getting stuck to the pin!"

"Well, that's when you add flour to the pin, boy," she teased before turning her attention to me. "Kimberly, Jackson told me that you're the one who usually cooks around here. Will you come and show these men how it's done?"

I laughed at Ryland's dumbfounded expression. "Yeah, I'll help." I walked over to her, accepting the rolling pin from her hands.

Once dinner was served, we all sat at the table. My father prayed over the food, before everyone cut their piece and picked up a slice of garlic bread.

I sat back as Teresa and Ryland began to bicker once more over why the dough wouldn't cooperate with him. My dad put in his two cents, fueling their argument, before leaning back with a couple of laughs.

Teresa dismissed Ryland, before turning to me. A large grin lit up her face. "How is the lasagna, Kimberly? I put extra ricotta cheese like your dad told me you liked."

My nearly empty plate said enough. "It's great," I responded, smiling back at her. "It's perfect."

My father caught my eye, his lips raising. I felt a smile begin to bloom instantly as he placed his hand on mine.

I wasn't sure if this relief would last forever, but I would do anything to make it do so. To embrace it while it was here. My smile was actually genuine tonight. Though, a part of me knew it wouldn't stay that way forever.