I check the coffee table, then the dining room table and counter, for any sign of a note – some sort of goodbye. I’m not sure she would even leave one, if she was as upset as she seemed, but I still feel relieved when there’s nothing there.
“Rowan?” I call out to no response.
I navigate my way down the hall until I hear the faintest sound of sniffling coming from Rowan’s room. I rap my knuckle on the door gently before pushing it open and stepping carefully inside.
Rowan is sitting on the floor on her knees next her dresser, a suitcase at her side laying open. Her body is slack, exhausted, while she pulls pieces from the dresser. I take a few tentative steps closer to her and crouch down on the floor in front of her.
“What are you doing?”
“Packing,” she responds without looking at me. “We’re leaving.”
“Rowan, I’m sorry.”
“That’s a funny word, isn’t it? Sorry,” she says, lifting her head to meet my gaze. “The first time my dad went at me – I mean, really went at me – he chucked an ashtray at my head. It shattered on the wall, glass all over the place. It was one of those old ones, you know? Huge, heavy.” She wipes her eye with the back of her hand as another sniffle comes from her nose.
“The next day, he saw all the bandaids on my feet – from getting all that glass in them while I cleaned it up. He told me he wassosorry and it would never happen again. And I forgave him. He said the same thing the next time, and the next one, and the one after that. Six times a week, he was sorry. And I forgave him every time. Even after he wished me dead, if he came here and told me he was sorry, I would forgive him. Because he’s my dad, and I love him.”
“Ro—”
“And because I love you, you stupid idiot,” she sobs, and I damn near fall apart, “I’ll forgive you. But I’m so tired of sorry, Colt. I’ve had enough sorry to last me my whole life. I need something real.”
“I was trying to protect you,” I tell her, “and I got it wrong. I didn’t want people at the office to—”
“To know about your dirty little secret.”
“To see you with your boss and spread rumors or insult you, Rowan,” I correct her. “You hadjuststopped flinching when I told you something good about yourself.”
She shakes her head, wiping at her eyes again. “I don’t do that.”
“You did. Every single time – until Italy. Until you slipped into that red dress and I think, just for a second, you saw in the mirror what I see every time that I look at you. And if people at work saw us together,” I say, reaching for her hand to pull away the pair of shorts she’s holding, “I was worried that they would take that away from you. And I didn’t realize—” I stumble over my words, too many thoughts trying to force their way out at once. “You went out with my son. If I— is there any universe in which you could actually see yourself a stepmother to someone two years older than you? Is thatrealto you?”
“Yes,” she cries. “Ever since you took me to that party for your stupid art club. With the cheeseburgers and the kiss… You were just supposed to be my boss. But now you’re all of my firsts, and I’m— God, Colt, I’m so mad at you!”
Her hands fly forward, landing a unified blow to my chest that sends me backward onto my ass. For a little thing, she sure is strong.
“You can be mad,” I tell her. “I can take it.”
Sobbing, she throws her hands at my chest again and again, and I let her, because I know it’s not just me she’s angry with. Even if it was, I’d let her. I would deserve it.
Almost four years of grief and rage have pushed their way to the surface, and she’s finally letting it go; the pain of losing her mother, losing the father she knew, enduring years of abuse and trying to raise her sister alone. So as long as she needs it, I can sit here and take it.
I can show her that someone sees her pain.
When her arms finally slacken, I reach mine toward her and wrap her in a crushing hug against my chest. Sheresists at first, strong as she struggles against me, but she quickly settles, melting into the embrace instead.
“I hate you right now,” she tells me, her voice muffled as she cries into the wall of my chest.
“That’s alright.” I stroke her hair and press a kiss to the top of her head. “You can hate me for a while. I’ll still be here when you’re done.”
I hold her tightly until she calms, and for a few minutes after that, then scoop her into my arms and carry her over to her bed.
I set her gently onto the mattress and pull the layered, floral-printed blankets over her, then I move to the other side of the bed and slip off my suit jacket, folding it and setting it on the nightstand before I kick my shoes off and climb in next to her.
Rowan pushes herself closer to me and I drape an arm over her in response, stroking soft, soothing circles at her back. She scooches even closer to me and I move my hand from her back to her jaw, cupping it gently to make her meet my gaze. The beautiful sapphire eyes I love so much are red and bloodshot, the skin around them puffy and irritated. She closes them as I lean in to press light kisses to her eyelids, then move my lips to hers.
“You were drinking,” she whispers.
My thumb brushes over her cheek, and I offer her a regretful smile. “I was afraid I would come home to find you gone.”
