Текст книги "Never Say Never"
Автор книги: Emily Goodwin
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
Chapter 14
I startle awake, smoke filling my lungs. Aurelia is nestled up close to me, sound asleep. My heart races so fast it hurts and I can’t breathe. My hands shake as my brain wrestles with a flashback. I know I’m in the barn. I know there isn’t a fire, but I can smell the smoke, smell the burning scent of flesh and fur, and feel the heat. My shoulder aches, and I’m overcome with the urge to rip off my jacket and put out the flames.
If it weren’t for this new life sleeping next to me, pressed as close as she could get, I would lose it. I let out a slow breath and close my eyes. I’m not on fire. I’m okay. I open my eyes and look around the barn. I’m in a corner of Aurelia’s stall. Chrissy is sleeping on a horse blanket close to us. Everyone else is quiet, also sleeping.
I grab my phone, needing a distraction. I go to my pictures—yes, I saved the picture Aiden posted of us—and look at it, feeling my heart rate slow. A small part of me looks forward to seeing him Friday. He makes me feel calm, and his complete lack of judgment is so unexpected. There’s something about him that makes me think he knows exactly what I’m going through, which is crazy, because his life is perfect.
I miss him. Miss his accented voice, miss the way he looks at me, miss the way he makes me feel like I’m worth it. I stare at the picture for a few more seconds before setting my phone down. I pull my hood up and rest my head against the wall, closing my eyes. Aurelia is a tough little girl. I stroke her fur and smile, feeling so much relief. She’s made it through two days and doesn’t seem like she’s missed her mom that much, which was my biggest worry. A depressed foal quickly leads to a sick foal.
I look up in the direction of Phoenix’s stall, hating the black ball of resentment I feel toward her. Mom died saving her, and she isn’t eating, isn’t doing what she has to do in order to get better. And now I’m feeling guilty because I’ve limited my interaction with her, but it’s just too painful. She’s taken care of, I remind myself. I spent my grocery money on her medicine, after all.
I doze off into a dark spiral of guilt and nightmares, waking about an hour later to Aurelia getting up. She goes to the bucket and takes a long drink of milk.
“Good baby,” I whisper, cold already. Snuggling with a baby horse is like holding a fuzzy space heater. I shoo Chrissy out of the stall, before she can nip at Aurelia’s legs, and softly walk down the barn aisle. Shakespeare and Sundance are lying down, sleeping. Benny is standing in the back of his stall with his head down, eyes closed and mouth hanging. He has one back leg bent a bit, putting his weight on the other three legs.
And Phoenix…Phoenix is awake, head hanging low and tears streaming from her dark eyes. Her feed bowl is full of untouched grain, and her hay has only been picked at, lying uneaten on the ground of her stall. I clutch my heart and grind my teeth together. She looks pitiful, completely miserable.
“Hey, sweetie,” I whisper. Her ear flicks in my direction, but she doesn’t look at me. I stand there, looking at her, unable to move for several minutes. Then I finally shake myself and go back to Aurelia’s stall to get my blanket. I slide Phoenix’s stall open and clip the stall guard into place. I wrap the blanket around myself and sink down, keeping my legs out of her stall.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, and I start to cry. “I should have done this a long time ago.” I start shaking, suddenly freezing. “I’m sorry. But it hurts, Phoenix, so much. I can’t look at you without remembering what happened. I look at you and I feel the fire, I smell the smoke, and I miss Mom, so much. And,” I start, but I have to stop until I can get the sobs under control. “It’s my fault. I haven’t told anyone that, but it is. I heard you. I went after you. Mom told me not to, but I did anyway. It’s my fault she went in, it’s my fault she never came out. I killed her!” I double over, hysterical. I’m crying so hard I can hardly breathe. The sobs come out of me in waves, rattling my body painfully.
I’m crying so hard that I don’t hear her move. A soft muzzle presses into my cheek. I open my eyes, sight blurry with tears. Phoenix is standing over me, nose pressed against my face. She blinks, and a tear rolls down her charred skin, falling onto me. I slowly sit up. She nudges me.
“You’re not mad, are you?” I whisper, voice trembling. “You should be. You can be. I should have been here from the start, Phoenix. Maybe you’d be better. I just can’t. And I know it’s an excuse, and a stupid one at that. But I can’t. I can’t do this all.” I close my swollen eyes. “Everything feels like it’s falling apart, and my arms aren’t long enough to hold it all together. Things are slipping away, and I don’t know what to do.” The tears start to fall again. “I don’t know what to do about anything.”
I put my hand on Phoenix’s muzzle, fingers sweeping over soft fur and rough scars. She heavily exhales, breath warming me. “I’m sorry,” I repeat. She takes a step back, and I curl my legs to my chest and cry myself to sleep, not waking until sunrise.
Phoenix is eating hay. Her feed dish is empty. I bite the inside of my cheek and feel like crying again, but this time out of relief. I close my eyes and tip my head up. “Thank you,” I whisper. I get up, stiff from sleeping half in Phoenix’s stall and half in the barn aisle.
I give everyone hay, mix up another bucket of milk for Aurelia, change Phoenix’s bandages, and then dish out grain. I do a quick five-minute grooming on everyone while they eat, and let the three big guys out in the pasture. Aurelia prances around the round pen. I go back to Phoenix. She ate half her grain and is nibbling the new flake of hay I gave her.
“Want to take a walk?” I ask.
She looks into my eyes, and I know the bond we should have formed months ago is being built. I slip a halter over her head, adding another padded bandage under the nylon so it doesn’t hurt her scars.
Her manners will need work once she’s better. For now, I’m not worried that she’s pulling and walking ahead of me. She hesitates at the threshold, sniffing the air. My heart hurts all over again.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “We’re going outside.”
She’s lived her whole life in a barn, away from fresh air, sunlight, and grass. She’s lived her whole life in misery, forgotten, abused, and neglected. Not anymore. She’s home now, with me, and I’m giving her a second chance.
We slowly walk up and down the driveway. She’s so curious and scared of everything, even the springy grass under her hooves. It takes a while, but she begins to nibble on it. I let her get a few mouthfuls before brining her back into the barn. She has to be weaned onto grass to keep from getting sick.
I let her out in the dry lot. She walks around, sniffing the dry dirt, then goes to the fence and eats the grass growing along the sides. I’m scared this isn’t real, that it’s all a dream and I’m going to wake up to her dead and lifeless in her stall next to me.
I try to shake those thoughts from my head as I go back into the barn to get her hay and a bucket of water. I clean stalls but am too tired to sweep the aisle. I nuzzle Aurelia and trudge into the house. I manage to take a shower before collapsing into bed and sleeping for a little over an hour before I wake up in a panic.
Phoenix is outside.
I race downstairs and to the window. She’s slowly moving around the dry lot, eating whatever grass she can get outside the fence. I put my hand over my heart, trying to will it to slow down. It’s cloudy today, so I can leave her out a while longer before worrying her exposed skin will get sunburned. If her wounds scab over better, I can put a mesh sheet on her, blocking out the damaging UV rays. She isn’t ready for that yet.
I go upstairs, brush my hair, and get dressed. I’m dog-tired, but I have shit to do. I wash dishes, fry the last two expired eggs and pray I don’t get sick, and sweep and vacuum the first floor after I eat. I’m behind on laundry, but that can wait. I go back out and put Phoenix back in her stall. She looks outside longingly, and I promise I’ll let her out again when the sun goes down.
Aurelia drank half her bucket and is now passed out in a sunny spot in a cluster of clovers. I pull my phone from my pocket and snap a few pictures and then go back inside, sinking onto the couch. I’m asleep in minutes.
My phone rings and wakes me up.
“Hello?” I grumble.
“You okay?” Lori says. “I’m on my way over with lunch.”
“I’m okay,” I tell her. “I was sleeping.”
“Oh, sorry for waking you up. But you’re going to eat then get your ass up to bed. I know you stayed in the barn again last night.”
I lie back down. “I did.”
“You’re going to get sick staying up all night, Hay.”
I shrug, forgetting she can’t see me. I don’t care if I get sick. A small part of me hopes I do so I can use it as an excuse to curl up in a ball and never leave my bed. “I’ll nap when you get here,” I say. I really need groceries, but I don’t have the cash and I already have enough on the credit card. There is food in the pantry. It’s mostly ingredients and boxes of pasta with no sauce to go with it, but it’s not like I’m going to starve.
“You will,” she reinforces. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. See ya soon.”
I hang up and go outside. Aurelia needs some cuddle time.
“Have you talked to Aiden again?” Lori asks. We’re sitting in the pasture, keeping Aurelia company as we eat.
“He called me last night.”
She makes a squeaking sound of excitement. “And?”
“He wants to see me on Friday. I don’t know what we’re doing, but he asked me to call him when I get off work.” I smile as I talk, thinking about his handsome face. Everything bad starts to fade away when I think of him. I finish my taco and wipe my greasy hands on the grass. “This is nuts, isn’t it?”
“Nuts in a good way,” she says, taking a sip of her Pepsi.
“If it weren’t Aiden Shepherd, what would you say?” I ask.
“Say in what regard?”
“To me going out and dating someone. Don’t tell me you’d think it’d be a good idea. I’m a loose cannon that cries all the time. Don’t you think dating is the last thing I need?”
Lori leans back on her elbows. Her strawberry-blonde hair blows in the breeze, coming out of the tight French braid she put it in. “Yes and no, and it would depend on who. I can’t fucking stand Kit sometimes, but if something happened to me like it did to you, I’d want him. I’d need him. Having someone…” She trails off, and I think she’s afraid of offending me. “Having someone helps you get through things. I’m not saying Aiden or any guy is the answer here, but let him distract you, Hay. It’s more than just a man. It’s having a connection with someone that you don’t share with anyone else. I want to see you smile again and actually mean it. I miss the old you, and I worry about you so much.”
“I miss the old me too.” The old me burned to death along with my mother and eight innocent horses. I don’t think she’s able to be revived.
A large van slows at the end of my driveway. We both turn, watching it back up and turn in.
“Lost?” Lori suggests, pushing herself up. “Maybe they want directions.”
“Maybe,” I say as I gather the food wrappers. Sunlight reflects off the shiny paint, and I can’t read what the label says. It slows to a stop by the garage. Lori and I narrow our eyes in the sun and wait for the driver to get out.
“Haley Parker?” he asks when he opens the door.
“Yeah?” I reply and hesitate.
“I got a delivery for you. Sign here, please.”
“Delivery?” I stride forward. “I didn’t order anything.” I get close enough to see the van is from a home-delivery grocery service—something I definitely couldn’t afford even before the accident.
“An A. Shepherd placed the order, but I was given your name and address for the drop-off.”
Lori does her excited squeak again and elbows me. “That is really random and kind of weird,” she whispered. “But cute!”
I can’t stop the smile that pulls up my lips. I shake myself and sign the confirmation paper. “Long story,” I tell her. “Well, not really. I told him that I’d either nap or go grocery shopping when you got here, and he knew I was tired.”
“Oh my God. Oh my God! He’s the perfect man. That is seriously—oh my God. I can’t handle it, Hay.”
I just laugh, unsure if I can handle it either. It must have cost a fortune to get the service to drop off food way out here. I’m pretty sure we’re out of range for any thing like this. My mind is changing about Aiden as each bag of groceries comes out of the back of the van. Lori and I stick them in the house; Chrissy sniffs each one and finds a box of organic dog treats. I laugh and tear it open.
Aiden Shepherd is the most thoughtful person on the planet.
The last thing to come out of the truck is a small vase of tulips with a note. I take the flowers inside and snatch the note before Lori can see, wanting to read it first before sharing.
Haley-
Now you can get some sleep. You’ll need it for Friday.
-Aiden
I read his words three times. It’s simple, yet my heart warms and I want to call him. Now. Instead, Lori and I put the food away, gushing and fangirling over him in a totally different way. I’m too excited to nap, but I go upstairs to lie down anyway.
I assume he can’t answer his phone right now, but I want to leave a message anyway. I don’t know what to say. A simple thank you isn’t enough. He did this to give me time to rest. He doesn’t know how much of a financial relief it is to have at least two weeks’ worth of food taken care of for me.
I feel a little nervous when I call him, and I hope he doesn’t answer. I’m no good when it comes to stuff like this. I get embarrassed, and then I don’t seem grateful, and I am, so much.
I get his voicemail, thank goodness. I smile at the sound of his voice and am surprised by the warmth that rushes through me, going all the way down to my core. I’m attracted to Aiden. Very attracted. I was before I got to know him, and now I am even more. I hadn’t felt any sort of desire until he kissed me, awakening what I’d buried in ash.
“Aiden,” I say. “It’s Haley. Thank you. That was so nice of you, and I can’t think of the words to say how much I appreciate it. Um, call me back if you can. I’m taking that nap now, thanks to you. Hope you’re having a good day.”
I hang up before I’m given the chance to redo my message. I could leave fifty and not be satisfied. I take a peek at the photo of us together one more time before closing my eyes and drifting into one of the most peaceful naps I’ve had in months.
I sit at my desk at work the next day, staring at the blank page on my computer. I’m supposed to be writing an article about hiking season, but I’m having a hard time getting the words out. I type out a few, hate them, delete, and then am left staring at the blank Word document again. I sigh and rub my forehead. I’m exhausted. Completely and utterly drained.
Phoenix didn’t eat dinner. She didn’t touch her hay, didn’t sniff her grain. She didn’t drink any water, and she stood perfectly still when I changed her bandages. It wasn’t because she’d been taught manners; it was because she didn’t care. She was giving up and shutting down, and I didn’t know what else to do other than stay with her again that night.
Knowing she is alone in the barn sickens me. I want to go to her and tell her it’s okay, that I have faith in her and I won’t give up, even if she has. I take a breath and look at the clock; I’ve only been here for an hour. I’m on my second cup of coffee already, and my stomach hates me for it.
Aiden never called me back last night. He’s busy, very busy, and he probably didn’t have time. But how hard is it to send a freaking text message? Whatever. He’ll call eventually. And if he doesn’t…at least I got free groceries out of it.
“Haley!” Mr. Weebly says in a tone only used after saying my name several times already, unable to get my attention.
I snap around, putting on my fake smile. “Yes?”
His eyes are round and he crosses his arms. “Were you planning on telling us?” Oh shit. Had I done something wrong? I can’t handle getting yelled at. I’ll break down crying.
I swallow. “Telling you what?”
His thin lips pull into a smile. “This!” he exclaims, holding up his phone.
“Oh.” Blood rushes to my cheeks as I look at the Instagram photo. “Yeah. He and I, uh…we…” I trail off, shaking my head. I push my hair back and smile.
Mr. Weebly steps closer, his cologne too strong. I’m sitting and he’s standing above me, trying to eyeball my breasts. I’m wearing a button-up shirt today, and I pull the collar closer together.
“I assume I’m to thank for this,” he says with a smile. “I set you two up.”
Ew. I mentally recoil. There is no way I want to associate Mr. Weebly with my relationship—or lack thereof—with Aiden. “Uh, yeah. I guess. Thanks?”
“And why don’t I know about the horses?”
I shake my head. “You never asked?”
He laughs like that’s actually funny. “I want you to write an article about this…this nurse mare foal thing.”
I straighten up. “Really?”
He nods. “Get a picture of Aiden with that baby horse. It’s at your house, I’m assuming.”
“She is, but I don’t know about the picture,” I say, my hope dying inside already. “Don’t we have to talk to his agent and get permission and other legal stuff like that?”
Mr. Weebly raises an eyebrow. “Officially, yes, but you two seem close enough to get something personal.” He winks. “If not, I’m sure you can find a way to convince him. Get the picture, and you can write the article.”
He walks away, and I’m left more than a little horrified. Did my boss really ask me to use Aiden? And if Aiden doesn’t want his picture in our little paper then I’m supposed to sleep with him to get him to say yes? My skin crawls.
I wait until Mr. Weebly is in his office to sneak my phone from my purse and text Lori, telling her what just happened. I sigh and put my phone back down, then turn back to the computer. Photo or not, I’m writing this article.
Chapter 15
A weekend of no sleep, drinking, and popping pain pills leaves me looking and feeling like shit. So much so that I get sent back to my hotel early Monday afternoon. Everyone thinks I have some sort of bug, and it’s all well wishes and fake feel-better bullshit no one really means. Besides the director. He’s pissed I look like crap, even after an hour in makeup.
I don’t mean to pass out and sleep the day away. I don’t mean to take a nasty combination of pills and alcohol that render me sick and shivering on the bathroom floor. And I certainly don’t mean to not call Haley back.
When I can finally drag myself into bed, it’s half past eleven, and I don’t want to wake her up in case she’s sleeping. I miss her, and I want to hear her voice. I look at her picture then lay down. I’ve done nothing but lay down all day, yet I’m exhausted. And I still have to go over my lines for tomorrow.
After a few minutes, I get up and channel my character. I read over the love scene to the mirror, perfecting my facial expressions. It’s easy to do this time around. I just imagine saying those sweet things to Haley.
I keep myself in character as I go to sleep that night. The character, Blake, finally fucks his love interest, and the scene ends with them cuddling together. It’s sweet and lame and something that’s not my style. Yet I find myself feeling a longing to act out that scene in real life.
I deliver my lines perfectly. I am Blake. I feel what he feels, want what he wants. I actually get a compliment from the director, and he’s famous for not handing them out. I’m feeling good, and I call Haley when we break for lunch.
“Hello?” she says softly.
“Hey,” I say back.
“Aiden,” she breathes my name and my heart stops. I close my eyes and smile. “How are you?”
“Pretty damn good. You?”
“Okay.”
“You don’t sound too sure.”
“I know,” she says. “But I am. I will be, at least. How’s filming?”
“It’s been a good day.” I smile, proud of my performance. With the lack of retakes, we might finish everything slated for today early. “How’s work for you?”
She lets out a snort. “I’ll tell you about it when I’m not here. Well, if you want to talk to me again.”
The self-doubt in her voice hurts. “I would like to…if you want me to.”
“I do. And thank you, Aiden.”
I smile, having nearly forgot about the groceries. “It’s the least I can do, and I really didn’t do anything. I just told Claire to have food delivered to you house,” I admit. “And I’m glad you got some sleep.”
“I dreamed about you,” she whispers. I can hear other people talking around her and remember she’s at work.
“A sex dream, right?” I say with a smirk.
“If it was, I wouldn’t tell you,” she says, and I can tell she’s smiling.
“Then I know it was one. Was I good in this dream? I gotta know so I can live up to your expectations.”
“There you go, being presumptuous again,” she laughs.
“Maybe,” I say. “Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” She was a fan before we met. Has she thought about fucking me before? Becoming a sex icon is weird. Don’t get me wrong, I love it at times. But it’s fucking weird to know that women all over the world fantasize about me solely based on my looks and the little bit of personality they see during interviews, and it’s all fake anyway.
“I have very high standards,” she jokes. “Dream or no dream.”
“I always please, multiple times. And I have dreamed about it. More than once.”
“You did not just say that!” she exclaims, and I smile as I imagine the look on her face. “You are a little cocky, ya know.”
“There’s nothing little about my cock.”
She just laughs. “We’ll see about that. Oh my God, no, no—I didn’t mean—oh shit,” she stammers, and I laugh even harder. “Friday,” she says. “Where are we going?”
“I don’t care,” I say honestly. “I’m still not sure what to do around here.”
“There’s plenty to do by you, in Billings. Here…we have a movie theatre that closes at nine, two diners, one pizza place, and a couple fast food chains. Oh, and a bar, of course.”
“How do you live?”
She just laughs. “You get used to it, and online shopping is a life saver.”
“How’s Aurelia?” I ask before I have to go.
“She’s doing pretty well, actually. I think she’s lonely, and I feel bad because I’m gone all day and don’t feel comfortable letting her out when I’m not there. Not yet at least.”
“If you could do horse stuff full time, would you?”
“God, yes,” she says right away. “That’s what my mom did. But it’s not that easy. Rescues are expensive, and I have vet bills to pay, so I’m stuck here. I refuse to believe it’s forever though.”
“I don’t believe it either.” I make a mental note to have Claire look into the expenses of horse rescues. Speaking of Claire, she’s motioning to me. “I have to get back to work,” I tell her. “I’ll call you again. You still have to tell me why you’re having a bad day.”
“It’s not so bad anymore,” she says softly. “And I’d like that. Bye, Aiden.”
The rest of the day crawls by. So do Wednesday, and Thursday, and even Friday. I’m not needed on set Friday, so I take a cocktail of Norcos, Ambien, and a shot of Scotch and pass out early Thursday night, after talking to Haley.
We’ve talked every day over the phone; I call her whenever I have spare time on set. It’s easy talking to her, and if a few minutes pass where nothing is said between us, it isn’t awkward. I’m not a fan of talking on the phone at all. Half the time when my own sister calls I decline it and just listen to her messages. I shouldn’t do that, I know. She still lives in London so I never see her, but fuck, I hate talking on the phone. With Haley, it’s different. Everything with her is.
Tonight, I’m taking her to dinner in Billings. She mentioned on the phone that she wasn’t sure what to wear, so I had Claire pick something out and send it to her house. Haley has no idea a designer dress will be waiting for her when she gets off work. A car is picking her up and we are meeting here, at the hotel.
I get out of the shower and get dressed, then sit at the foot of the bed, flipping through channels as I impatiently wait for Haley to arrive. I can’t handle the dark thoughts that swirl in my mind. I try to shut them out, but images of Haley dying in a car crash on the way to the hotel flash through my brain.
Then I think about what it would feel like to be in a crash. I see it all play out in slow motion, everything from knowing you’re going to die a moment before it happens. How long after impact would I suffer before I actually die? I feel the windshield break into a million tiny pieces and tear open the skin on my face. The airbag pushes the glass into my flesh even more. The car would flip and roll, and I’d be jostled into unconsciousness.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I mutter to myself and stand up, opening the top drawer of the dresser. I pull out a pill bottle and break a Tramadol in half. I take it with water, wanting to be coherent when Haley arrives. Coherent but calm.
She calls me when she gets into the hotel lobby. I stand, take a look at myself, then leave the room. My bodyguard, Frank, tags along to keep fans from taking unwanted pictures or getting too close. As much as I love my fans, I just want a nice night out with Haley.
I hardly recognize her when I leave the elevator and step into the lobby. She’s standing with her back to me, hair curled and pinned up to her head. The dress I bought her is midnight blue and tight in all the right places, giving her a perfect hourglass figure. She put on a black sweater that doesn’t quite go with the dress, and it pains me to remember the hint of scars I saw on her shoulder.
“Haley,” I say, and she turns around, smiling. The dress is low cut, and her breasts are pushed up. I can’t help but stare for a second—or a few seconds—before moving my gaze to her face. “You look beautiful.” I extend my hand for hers.
“Thanks,” she says as she links our fingers. “It’s thanks to you, though. This dress is beautiful on its own.”
I step in close and kiss her. It’s just as intoxicating as before, and I want to take her upstairs and into my hotel room, slowly removing her clothes and kissing every inch of her until she begs me to fuck her.
“You look nice too,” she says, arms wrapping around me. I move closer, my hips brushing against hers. I’m getting turned on from being so close, and she can feel my cock harden. Her eyes narrow, and she kisses me again.
Frank clears his throat. Right. I’m in the middle of the hotel lobby. People are watching, probably snapping pictures. I reluctantly step back and take Haley’s hand. “Are you hungry?” I ask her.
“I’m starving,” she says. “I haven’t eaten since lunch.”
I smile and realize it’s the first time I’ve had a date tell me she wants to eat. “I did eat after lunch, but I’m still hungry,” I tell her. “I’m always hungry.”
I hold her hand as we walk out of the hotel, and Frank opens the door to a black sedan for us. I get in first, sliding over. Haley gets in next to me and looks around.
“This is so weird,” she says.
“Being in a car?”
“Being treated like I’m important.”
I smile. “I think you’re important.”
“Well, you’re one of the few. But thanks.”
I nudge her arm. “You’re important to your horses.”
Her lips curve into a smile. “I like to think so.”
I run my fingers up and down her arm. Haley relaxes and moves closer to me, reaching over and cupping my face. She wets her lips and kisses me. Holy fuck, the woman is driving me wild without meaning to.
Her hand runs down my chest, sweeping across my lap. She feels my hardened cock and bites her lip, turning away. I take her hand in mine, rubbing slow circles on her wrist the rest of the way to the restaurant.
We get seated right away, receiving collective stares from most of the restaurant. A hush falls over some of the patrons, and I watch Haley tense uncomfortably as eyes fall on her. She knows she’s being judged.
We show our IDs and I order us wine. Thankfully the waiter is professional and doesn’t gush over me. He’ll be getting a big tip at the end of the night. The lighting is low, and we’re in the back, like I requested.
“Have you been here before?” I ask.
“Once,” she says, taking a drink of wine. “My dad took me out when I graduated high school.”
“So it was a while ago,” I joke.
She raises an eyebrow and smiles. “Not that long ago.”
“Your dad,” I start then realize it’s a rude thing to ask. I spent the night in a barn with her. We were past awkward and had moved to being able to ask personal questions, right?
“He and my mom split when I was really young,” she explains. “He lives on the east coast and has kids. It’s weird to think I have half siblings I’ve never met.” She shrugs. “I don’t think they know about me, actually.”
Having an estranged father was something I could relate to. “That’s kind of shitty.”
She takes another sip of wine. “I guess so. I get along all right with my dad, and he came and stayed with me for a few weeks after…after the accident. But he lives on the other side of the country and his kids are all under eight years old. I don’t need him, they do. I get it.”
“You’re a forgiving person.”
She shrugs. “I guess so, when it comes to that. The issue was with my parents, not me, but yeah, it still hurts to know he could so easily move on. But I’d rather forgive and move on as well than harbor hatred. It’s not worth it.” She looks up and smiles, and I feel like a plonker for once again bringing up a topic that causes her pain. I reach across the table and take her hand. Her eyes widen and she looks down. “People are taking pictures of us.”
“Relax,” I say. “You look amazing and have nothing to worry about.”
She smiles. “How do you do it so calmly?”
“You get used to it, really. I mean, I’m still aware of everything I say and do in public—for the most part, at least—and I think twice before I leave the house. You know, make sure I don’t have stains on my clothes and all that. It bothered me at first, but now I don’t care as much.”
“Right,” she says, tightening her grip on my hand. “It’s just you and me.”
“Just the two of us.”
