Obsession Falls (The Haven Brothers #1)

I shifted the backpack strap. “She made her choice and it wasn’t us. Not much I can do about that. And my mom, Marlene, she always treated us like her own kids. So I didn’t miss out on having a mom.”

“Your mom, Marlene I mean, sounds awesome.”

“Yeah, she is. What about you? What are your parents like?”

“My mom is, I don’t know. She’s kind of high strung. My dad was really active in local politics, so she was always in the spotlight with him. I can’t figure out if she loves the attention or just got so used to it, she doesn’t know how else to live. And my dad died a couple of years ago. He had some ongoing health problems and didn’t take care of himself at all, so it wasn’t a huge shock.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. I hate to admit it, but I wasn’t devastated or anything. I was sad, but more for my mom than for me. My dad wasn’t easy to live with. I wanted a better relationship with him, but it was like I barely knew him. There was the guy he was in public, the guy everybody loved. And then there was the guy he was at home, and he was so different. He didn’t seem very interested in me in private, you know? I was good for his reputation, so in front of other people he pretended to be this really involved father. But in private, he mostly wanted me to leave him alone.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to her. Making people feel better wasn’t really my area. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”

She stopped and looked up at me. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saying that it sucks and not trying to fix it or make excuses for him or tell me I should have tried harder. I swear, every time I open up to someone about my issues with my father, I get the weirdest responses. It’s like people can’t handle hearing something uncomfortable and they want to fix it. But he’s gone, there’s no fixing it. I didn’t have a great relationship with him and I never will and yeah, that sucks.”

“You’re right. It does suck.”

“And so does the fact that your mom left you.”

I glanced off into the trees. I didn’t like talking about her. It was easier to pretend it didn’t matter. “Yeah, it sucks a lot, actually.”

Part of me wanted to say more. To admit that it hurt. That I hated knowing I wasn’t enough to make her stay.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t get the words out.

Audrey took my hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry.”

I met her eyes. She was right, there was something comforting about that simple reply. She wasn’t going to try to convince me I was enough, or tell me my mom had been a terrible person for leaving her husband and three kids, or that I should just be glad I had Marlene. She wasn’t telling me how to feel. Just acknowledging the ache.

I nodded and squeezed her hand back.

We kept going while Max circled around us. He sniffed through the pine needles and stopped now and again to pee on a tree trunk. Instead of being awkward, the silence was comfortable.

The trail ascended in a gradual slope then hooked to the right and turned downhill. The roar of water rose in the distance.

“What is that? Is that water?”

“You’ll see. It’s just up ahead a little farther.”

We came around another bend and the trail opened onto the pristine waters of the lake. A waterfall plunged from its rocky height, sending up white spray into the evening air.

“It’s so beautiful,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “I can’t believe this place isn’t packed with hikers.”

“Not many people know about it.” I pointed at the rocky cliff face. “My brothers and I use to come out here and climb, then jump.”

“You’re kidding. How did you not die?”

“It was stupid. We had to get as close to the waterfall as we could. It’s deep there, but on either side, it’s just rocks.”

Max ran to the edge of the lake and sniffed the water.

“Audrey?”

“Yeah?”