I had been expecting a visit from Hope's father every day since she had taken me back, so when I saw his Mercedes pull up at the bottom of my driveway at lunchtime on Thursday, I wasn’t surprised. What did surprise me, though, was the brown-haired woman on my doorstep when I opened the front door.

"Hello, Jordan," Lee Carter said as she looked up at me with that warm, loving smile I remembered from my childhood. The moment my eyes landed on my wife's mother, a feeling of relief and comfort washed through me.

"Hello, Lee," I managed to acknowledge in return, though my throat felt suddenly tight.

"May I come inside?" she asked in a thick southern drawl she had never seemed to lose through the years. Wordlessly, I stepped aside and gestured for her to come inside.

She followed me through to the kitchen to where I had been making a sandwich. I had just finished work at the hospital and was heading shortly to meet one of my sponsors; Terry, a middle-aged man who had recently weaned off codeine. "I'm sorry about the mess," I muttered as I cleared a chair covered in Ryder's toys for her to sit on.

"That's all right," Lee replied gently. "I've raised six children," she added with a genuine smile. "Trust me when I tell you that I understand how scattered a child's items can get around a house."

"So, uh, you know about Ryder?" I asked when she didn’t question who owned the baby stuff. Even though I had been living an hour away from Hope's family, I kept my distance over the years. I stayed away from them and, thankfully, they had returned the favor.

Lee had sent birthday and Christmas cards every year which had always made me feel uneasy. I didn’t like knowing they had my address and I knew deep down that my father had something to do with them never coming here. It was the only thing I could remember ever being grateful to him for.

Somehow, I had been allowed to heal in peace and quiet without the Carter's meddling in my life. They weren't bad people, not in the least, but I could never bear to be around them.

Not after pushing Hope away.

"Derek filled me in on Annabelle and little Ryder." Lee paused for a long moment before adding, "And Hope filled me in on the rest."

Anger washed through me followed by a swell of panic.

Did Lee know?

Did Hope tell her?

"Okay." Feeling lightheaded, I walked around to the other side of the table and sank down. I needed to think about this. I needed to take a deep breath and figure out how I was going to handle this conversation. With my elbows resting on the table, I pressed my thumbs to my temples and asked, "Did she tell you everything?"

Years of rehab, therapy, and counseling and I still struggled to talk about it.

The only one in this whole world I truly felt comfortable talking about my past to was Annabelle, and it had taken six years of me pushing her away and her pushing right back to gain my trust.

Annie was the only person on this planet who knew everything.

No one else.

Hope only knew the bare bones of my ordeal. She knew what I needed her to know so I could sleep at night and not feel like a liar.

She knew only what I thought she could handle.

What I knew she could handle.

I was protecting her this way.

It was better for her.

I would take the rest of it to my grave, and I knew Annie would, too.

She was my best friend.

My secrets were safe with her.

Lee nodded sadly and I watched in horror as a tear slid down her scarred cheek. "I came here to apologize to you." Her voice was full of emotion, her eyes glassed over with unshed tears. "I am so, so sorry, Jordan."

I sat, frozen in my seat, staring across the table at the woman that had been a second mother to me for most of my childhood.

Just like always, everything about Lee Carter screamed safe to me. Her voice, her smell, the way she moved, even her touch when she used to brush my hair back from my face and clean up my cuts when I fell over. It was all safe to me.

When I was little, she had always reminded me of Easter Sunday. That satisfied, lazy, and comforting feeling you got in the afternoon having eaten all your chocolate eggs and playing hunt? I got that when I was around her.

I didn’t need to ask her what she was apologizing to me for.

I already knew.

"My own mother didn’t realize," I finally said, body flushed as a screwed-up concoction of boiling heat and freezing coldness filled my body. "How could you?"

"I should have," she whispered, tone ridden with guilt and remorse. "I knew something wasn't…right." Her voice broke and she dropped her head in her hands. "Your eyes were always so full of sadness," she cried. "You always looked like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders." Sniffling, she added, "And now, I know you did."

"Does Kyle know?" I heard myself ask and the question shocked the hell out of me, but not as much as my next one, "Does he…understand? Why I left? Why I…" I couldn’t finish. Why did it matter to me what he thought? It shouldn’t.

"Yes," she sniffled. "He knows and he understands, sweetheart. He truly does."

I didn’t respond to that.

He didn’t understand.

None of them did.

"He doesn’t know I'm here," Lee added, pulling a tissue from her sleeve. "No one does. We promised Hope we wouldn't say a word, but I couldn’t keep that promise." She wiped her nose and tried to compose herself before saying, "I feel horrible for breaking my daughter's trust, and for letting her down, but it pales in comparison to how badly I've let you down, Jordan." Her voice wobbled and her tears spilled over. "Kyle and I should have protected you from that. From…him!"

"No," I corrected stiffly. "My father should have protected me from him." Straightening my spine, I looked her dead in the eye. "You and Kyle aren’t my parents. Derek is… or at least he was supposed to be."

"Oh, sweetheart," Lee began to say. "Derek loves you so much–"

"Don’t," I snapped, throwing my hand up to emphasize that I was not prepared to listen to this. "I won't hear it," I warned. "No excuses, Lee. Please." I was thrumming with barely constrained rage right now, and hearing Lee make excuses for Derek being a shitty father would push me over the edge. I was mad at Hope, too. For breaking my trust. For telling my story. My life.

I was proud of myself surviving what I had. I had battled addiction and abuse and toxic parents, and I was still standing on my own two feet.

Coming back here could have been my breaking point but I was still sober. Still working on myself and battling my demons. Sure, I spent most of every day in a state of anxiety and despair, but I was doing it. I was surviving. I wasn’t expecting Lee Carter or anyone else to walk into my world and save me.

I was doing that for myself.

Sniffling, Lee nodded and said, "Please don’t be angry with Hope."

Too late.

I was furious with my wife.

Her inability to keep secrets was the reason I was suffering through this…conversation.

"The only reason she told us was because she knew it was the only way her father would accept your relationship."

"And does he?" I bit out, staring right at her. "Does Kyle accept me now?"

Lee nodded quickly, but I didn’t miss the way her voice faltered when she said, "Oh, yes."

She was a horrible liar.

Her husband would never accept me as good enough for his daughter, no matter how much shit I went through as a child or how badly I tried to prove him wrong. He never had and he never would. I didn’t bother stating that aloud, though. There was no point. Not when we both knew it.

"I called your mother last week," Lee added, shocking the hell out of me.

Every muscle in my body stiffened to the point of pain. "You did?" I hadn't been expecting her to say that.

"Yes," she replied, worrying on her bottom lip. "The line has been disconnected."

No surprises there, then, I thought to myself as a swell of protectiveness roared to life inside of my body. "I don’t want you blaming my mother, Lee," I gritted out through clenched teeth. "It wasn’t her fault."

I could tell from the expression on Lee's face that she didn’t agree with me, but she didn’t speak her thoughts on the matter. Instead she said, "I didn’t do enough for you, Jordan, and that knowledge will haunt me until the day I die."

What did she want me to say?

There was nothing I could say to ease her conscience and besides, that wasn’t my job. I didn’t particularly feel like easing the conscience of any of the adults from my youth.

Even though Lee was my favorite, a darkness inside of me said good. A part of me wanted to know that they suffered.

Whether they knew or not, I had been tortured.

I had to live with the memories of what had happened to me.

I had to live with the scars and the pain.

The least they could do was the same.

Why should I give any of them an out?

Of course, I knew this wasn’t the appropriate way to think and if any of my patients came to me with this, I would try and talk them down and make them see that their anger didn’t constitute as a valid reason for making others suffer.

But I wanted them to suffer. Even if it was just with their consciences. Why should I be the only one who suffered nightmares and sleepless nights? I was tired of being alone in my misery.

* * *

Hope

Jordan was in a horrible mood when I got home from Teagan's place tonight. The minute I walked into the kitchen, he stopped what he was doing, stood up, and walked straight past me.

"Jordan?" I called after him as I watched his retreating frame. "Are you okay?"

No answer.

"Jordan?" I repeated. "What's the matter?"

"Back off, Hope!" he snarled before storming up the staircase, leaving me staring after him.

Back off?

I immediately turned to Annabelle, who was sitting at the table feeding Ryder and asked, "What did I do?"

"Don't worry," she assured me as she plopped a spoonful of baby food into her son's waiting mouth. "It's not just you. He's been like a bear with a sore thumb since I got home from work – barely said two words to me all evening."

Huh.

Frowning, I slipped off my jacket and walked over to the table to join her. "Should I go after him?" I heard myself ask, then felt a flash of annoyance for having to ask another woman how to deal with my husband.

"You can, but there's really no point, Hope," Annabelle replied with heavy sigh. "Jordan won't talk until he's ready." She shrugged helplessly before adding, "Trying to talk to him when he's like this will be as productive as banging your head on the wall. Best to leave him to work through whatever's bothering him. Once he does, he'll come around."

"Oh," I whispered, anxiety gnawing at my gut. "How long will that take?"

"Don't give up on him, Hope," was all she replied.

"I won't," I shot back.

Not ever.