Always the Opposites {Brollins}

[ Chapter 39 ]

Over the course of the next few weeks, Colby officially decided he didn't want to keep bothering Rebecca and taking over her living space.

After a lot of persuading, Rebecca finally agreed, even though she was still wary. The last thing she wanted was for him to re-injure himself after almost three months of healing.

When they started packing up Colby and Riley's things, they realized just how much the two had actually moved in. Of course, Rebecca had gone with Riley to grab more clothes and supplies for the both of them. However, she didn't realize the other bits and bobs that they had brought into her apartment along the way.

Rebecca had been running things down to the parking lot and putting things in Colby's car, while he and Riley did a once over of the apartment to make sure they didn't forget anything. Not that it was a far drive to come collect whatever he may have missed, he just knew Rebecca needed some downtime of her own.

After Riley went down to the parking lot to help Rebecca with some more stuff, he did another quick sweep, just to double-check. He knew Riley loved to hide things under the bed, so he did the best he could to bend down and check. When he got to floor level, he sat down, not wanting to test how well he could balance on two completely bent knees.

Colby lifted up the sheet that had strayed over the side of the bed, the corner making its way onto the floor, and saw a plain but pristine brown shoebox underneath.

He tapped his fingers on the floor, knowing it must've been hiding under there for a reason. But his curiosity began running wild, and he almost wanted to blame Rebecca for rubbing off on him in that aspect.

"Goddammit, Rebecca." He took a deep breath before reaching underneath the bed and grabbing the box.

He drummed his fingers on top, almost willing Rebecca and Riley to walk through the door so he didn't have a chance to open it. After another agonizing minute of nothing, he flipped the lid up and looked inside.

Pictures were scattered around, with a few handwritten notes, a postcard, and a dried-up rose with a few of its worn-down petals separated from the stem. Along with it all was a miniature handmade story of some kind.

Colby picked up a random picture, examining it slowly. The little girl looked remarkably like Rebecca, so he assumed it was, and she was holding hands with a tall male.

"My dad." His head shot upwards towards Rebecca, who was leaning on the frame with her arms crossed.

He dropped the picture, "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's okay." She nodded, "Riley left with your mom."

He watched her walk over to him and sit beside him. "The pictures were laying around my childhood home, and everything in there was given to me from him."

He watched her tear up, before trying to cover it up with a laugh. "I guess I should clarify that he isn't dead."

"What happened?" His eyebrows dipped as she wiped away a stray tear.

"We were the best of friends. But he and mom got a divorce." She held one of the pictures in her hands. "She couldn't handle the fact that I wanted to go with him. Even though she and I never had a connection."

She shook her head, "So she played dirty. It's pretty well known that courts take the mother's side a lot of the time, and she definitely played them like a fiddle."

Pain laced her voice, "She lied and said my dad was abusive and that he threatened me, so I'd pretend that I wanted him to take custody."

She cleared her throat, "So he lost. And she got a restraining order so he couldn't come near us."

He took a deep breath in, not knowing how she was staying so composed. "Until I got older and left on my own. But it was too late at that point. He had nothing left here, so he packed up all of his things and went."

She smiled, reaching in her pocket, "This pencil was the last thing I found that was his before I moved out."

Rebecca picked up the small book, "It was what he used to write me little stories with."

She flipped through the pages and held it out for Colby to take a look at it. He gently grabbed it and looked at the pages, appreciating the neat cursive writing and colourful pictures.

"This was the last thing he ever wrote for me." She passed him a heartfelt letter her father had written for her, and a line stood out to Colby.

Find love with someone that tells you in more ways than one.

"I left the house at sixteen." She broke through his concentration as she shrugged, "And never looked back."

"Sixteen?" He stared at her, "Where'd you find the money for that?"

She smiled sadly, "Why do you think I'm still working three jobs, and I'm terrified to lose my scholarship?"

She placed the book back in the box and closed the lid as he spoke. "I could help you."

"No." She shook her head, standing up and extending her arms to help him. "That's your money, not mine."

"But it could be ours." He looked at her seriously, even as he stood.

"It's yours." She insisted, "For you and Riley."

He sighed at her stubbornness, "Rebecca-"

"Colby, I'm fine."  She smiled, "You've already helped me enough."

His eyebrows dipped in confusion while he shook his head. "How?"

Rebecca wrapped her arms around Colby in a hug, her smile never fading. "You've helped me learn to experience the life I used to dream of as a kid. The ones I thought were only possible on the pages of a book."