“So what’s the verdict? How’s your hotdog?”
“It’s good,” I said, blinking away the haze. “Better than I remember. And it’s cooked, so that’s a plus.” Her smile instantly vanished, pulling mine with it. “What’s the matter?”
“Can I… ask you something?”
The seriousness of her tone and the hesitancy in her voice made the direction of her questioning clear.
I nodded.
“What was it like for you? Growing up?”
“You mean, growing up in foster care where not one person in the world gave a damn about me? Pretty fucking shitty.”
She dropped her eyes, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known. I would have—”
“Would have, what?” I lifted her face again, but she refused to look me in the eyes. “You were just a kid yourself, Eva.” A tear beaded at the corner of her lashes, and I leaned in and pressed my lips to the droplet, whispering into her skin, “None of that was your fault.”
Not her fault.
Fuck.
“You didn’t deserve that.” Her voice cracked. “He could have given you the world, Derek. Instead, he just left you… abandoned you.”
“Eva,” I murmured, cradling her face, “why are you crying?”
Emotion burned inside my throat, and I swallowed back the painful lump. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d felt the sting of tears in my eyes or the weight of anguish on my chest. My body had probably forgotten how to cry. Hell, I’d cried a lifetime of tears as a child and simply thought my well had run dry decades ago.
She latched onto my shirt. Our food, long forgotten, had fallen to the pavement.
“Whatever you went through, whatever happened to you, I know it changed you.” Leaning her forehead on my chin, she sniveled and exhaled a long, shaky breath. “I can see it in your eyes. You carry so much pain.”
“That was a long time ago.” I kissed her hairline. “You’re crying for me, angel? Why?” She peered up at me through the fringe of her lashes. “Why?” I pressed, needing to hear her say something. Anything. For her to tell me, she gave a damn.
Why?I asked myself... DidIgive a damn?
My breath hitched.
No.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
And it all suddenly made sense. But it couldn’t. This—wecouldn’t be.
I couldn’t.
Swiping at her tears with my thumbs, it was like the pieces of my life suddenly fell into place when I realized I’d give anything at that moment so I’d never see her cry again.
Shit.
“Because it matters. You matter… to me,” she said, jarring me from my stupor.
My ability to speak faltered, leaving me utterly speechless as she watched me, waiting for a response. Met with silence, the light in her eyes dimmed, and she looked away and sat back against the iron bench.
What did she expect from me?
