Page 179 of Dream House
I nod. “Maybe not the same way you mean. But my childhood shaped me just as much as yours shaped you,” I say, telling him what I hope is no surprise.
Still frowning, he studies me. “Yeah, except I’m not sure if my childhood shaped me as much as it repelled me.”
I give him a lopsided smile. “What’s the difference?”
“Because,” he says on a long exhale. “When you are repulsed, you fight against the source, and when it’s your whole world, you expect to have to keep fighting.”
“I get that,” I say gently.
His smile, something I feared I’d never see again, even before this terrifying night, eclipses his whole face. “You would.”
“What does that mean?” I ask through a startled laugh.
“You’re very accepting.”
I wrinkle my nose.
“You are,” he says again. “Just look around you. This home? Our band of misfits? You understand and accept all of us.”
I shrug. “Taking people as they are doesn’t seem like that big of a deal to me. Nothing else makes sense.”
His laugh is full of irony. “You have to know you are in a paper-thin minority.” His expression sobers. “I should have trusted that about you.”
“H-How so?”
He shakes his head. “Told you that I carry around a shitload of baggage.” His grin is rueful. “That I’m the black sheep. A rebel in a family of Catholic rule-followers.”
He’s trying for a light tone, but I hear pain in his admissions. With my hand that’s not in his, I reach up and touch his face. Lark shuts his eyes and leans into my touch.
When he opens them, he doesn’t try to hide the sadness. “I should have told you that, my whole life, I’ve failed at being who other people want me to be.”
My heart squeezes so tight it might burst.
“I love my brothers and sisters. I love my sister-in-law Maggie. I love my parents,” Lark says, and I don’t doubt him for a moment. “And please forgive me for saying this to you, but I loved my ex-girlfriend Zoe.”
I blink, taken off guard, but I very clearly heard the wordloved. Loved.As in past-tense.
He watches me closely for my reaction.
I clear my throat. “A-and how do you feel now?”
His brows draw together as though he doesn’t understand the question. “About Zoe?”
I bite my lip and nod.
His expression clears. “Oh, I mean, I care about her. I feel guilty that I hurt her.” Then he shakes his head. “She wanted more than I could give.”
“She wanted to get married,” I say, the pieces falling into place.
Lark swallows hard. “Yes.”
Just looking at him tells me that he’s suffered over this. Pain. Guilt. Shame. I knew Lark had recently ended a serious relationship. I didn’t know why it had ended.
“How did your family take it?” I ask even though I can guess the answer.
His eyes bug. Whatever he was expecting me to say next, it wasn’t this. “They all thought I was making a huge mistake.” His brows draw together in bewilderment. “My mom told me to go to confession.”
“What?”
