Page 41 of Strange Love

“Tell me,” I urge.

“They’re still not exactly in the best place.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

She takes a deep breath before speaking again. “When I disappeared, it caused a lot of strain on them. I was gone for four years. Everyone thought I was dead,” she says, and my chest aches in response. “That kind of stress ruins marriages,” she continues. “They separated for a long time. My sister struggled with the guilt of me being taken and not her. As much as I lived as a shell of myself during that time, so did they.”

“Are they together now?” I ask her.

“Yes, they’ve been back together for over a year now,” she says. “My dad moved back in, and they went to counseling, but things are still strained sometimes. It’s like my whole family is learning to get to know one another again and how to be a family.”

“I think it’s great that everyone is willing to try,” I tell her. “I mean, I don’t even have a dad around.”

“You don’t?” she asks, confused.

“No. My dad took off on us when I was seven,” I tell her. “The guy you met at the car dealership is Alan, my stepdad.”

“Do you like him?”

“He’s cool and all, but he’s not my dad.”

“That must have been hard,” she says.

“You heard Cruz say that I grew up white trash—and he’s not wrong,” I tell her. “I spent the first thirteen years of my life living in a trailer park. Sometimes we didn’t even have enough food.”

“I’m sure that must have been really difficult, Corey,” she says with genuine empathy.

“It’s nothing compared to what you went through,” I tell her dismissively.

“It’s not a contest. We’ve both had difficulties in our lives. Comparing them doesn’t make one less valid than the other.”

“So basically everybody’s messed up and just trying to figure out their life?” I ask.

“Exactly.” She chuckles.

“So then, we might as well get ice cream and watch a movie,” I tell her.

Chapter 23

“More Than A Feeling”

Corey - Age 18, 1988

My stomach churns as I knock on Ivy’s door. I try to act cool and collected, but I have nerves inside. The door swings open and Ivy’s dad stands, his eyes scanning me up and down. He’s a big guy, not much taller than me but with broad shoulders and a slight paunch. I immediately observed the resemblance between him and Ivy.

“Hey there,” he says with a warm smile as he extends his hand. “I’m Paul. You’re the young man from the dealership. I recognize you.”

“Yes, Sir, I’m Corey,” I introduce myself and shake his hand. “Good memory. My step-father is Alan Finley, Finley’s Ford,” I clarify.

I’m welcomed inside, and as I step into the living room, I see Ivy’s mom, Irene, and her younger sister, Natalie, standing there with friendly smiles. Irene reaches out to shake my hand while Natalie waves excitedly.

Suddenly, Ivy appears next to me and touches my arm. “Everyone’s met now,” she says with a grin. “Let’s get going.”

“Maybe Corey would like something to drink?” Irene offers.

“That would be great,” I reply, causing Ivy to give me a dirty look which makes me laugh. I try not to show my nerves as I sit on the couch, surrounded by her family. I’d be nervous in this situation anyway, but knowing everything this family has gone through and how much trust they are placing in me amps up my anxiety.

Irene sits on the edge of the couch, her hands twisting and turning in her lap nervously. She mentions that she recently quit smoking after two decades and is still struggling to adjust.