Bent Not Broken (A Cedar Creek #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

her eyes. She had always tried to convince me that I was special, that I was nothing like my parents, that all I had to do was believe in myself, in my “innate goodness” as she called it, and leave all the darkness behind, but I had never been able to do that.
    “You are not what you are born into, sweetheart. You are what you make yourself to be. Your parents are fools, so wrapped up in their own heads and unhappy with their lives that they are blinded by bitterness and resentment. They resent the goodness and pure heart they see in you, driven by envy, trying to put you down, because they know that you are better than them.”
    I hadn’t been able to see a way out of it. I thought I had been born into it and that was how life worked. When you’re a child, you have no frame of reference, no way of knowing that the life you live is not normal, that the way your parents treat you is not the way it’s supposed to be. So I couldn’t believe what my grandma had said to me, didn’t understand it. I tried later, when I left home and started a new life at college, but that turned out to be a disaster as well. Some part of me, a big part to be honest, still believed that my parents treated me the way they did because I didn’t deserve better. Which was yet another reason why I couldn’t give in to my attraction to Cal. I was dark. My parents made me that way. Cal didn’t need to deal with my baggage. He deserved better than that. Better than me.
    Betty was special, too. I could tell. Always had a warm smile for everyone. Everyone she liked, that was. Thank goodness she liked me. Otherwise, it could be scary and daunting getting my daily coffee fix from her. If she didn’t like you or thought you had done something stupid or mean, she would tell you straight up. Just like she said to me I say it like it is and you take it . That was pure Betty. If she saw something, she called you out on it. And that was that. Everyone in town held her in high respect, though. When Betty got serious, people listened. So I guessed I should listen as well. Maybe she laid it on a bit thick, but I should at least try to believe in the gist of it.
    I knew I was a good person. I strived to do good things and find something to be happy about every day. Try to bring a smile to people’s faces, make them chuckle or giggle. That was me. A little bit of a goof and sometimes a total dork, making people burst out laughing without even trying to. I was okay with that. It made me happy when I could make people laugh, even at my own cost. I had no problem with that. So maybe, just maybe, there was a little bit of light in me that people wanted to be around. I wanted that. Light was a good thing to have. And maybe, just maybe, there was enough light in me to fight back the shadows and darkness, with a little bit of help. But was it time? Was I ready? Would I be able to handle talking about it? I had shoved everything so far back in my mind for so long that opening that box scared the living bejeezus out of me. Just thinking about it now made my stomach feel like lead, and I had to close my eyes and take some deep breaths. But for how long could I keep going like this? How much longer until those memories would fight their way out and knock me out in the process? I had felt them lingering lately, more so than usual. Little memory flashes of my former life appearing out of left field, surprising me. Nothing too dark yet, but that would happen eventually, I knew.
    Then there was wanting more out of life. Yes, I was happy and content. Most of the time, at least. But I had to admit to myself that I was also lonely. Very lonely. I was living a half-life, because I wouldn’t let myself open up, wouldn’t let anyone in enough to hurt me. The thought of getting hurt scared me enough that letting anyone come close wasn’t an option. If I was completely honest with myself, when Grant had told me he loved me and wanted more, a part of me had rejoiced, had felt