I knew it bothered Heath that his parents left him. It hurt me to see him like this.
Whatever he felt, I felt it a hundred times more. All I wanted for him was to happy and not feel like he wasn’t wanted or that he could be abandoned. He was worth far more than what he was made to feel.
His exterior was tough, but on the inside there was a kind and caring heart—despite being a little purple and bruised because of all the pain he was carrying.
“Do you still wonder about it?” I ask.
“About what?”
“The reason why your parents left you.”
In a quiet voice, he says, “Always.”
Before I can say anything, his phone starts ringing. We both glance at it, sitting in the cup holder, its screen lighting up. ‘Mom’ flashes across the screen.
Heath switches it to silent and keeps driving.
But the calls keep coming.
The rain continues to fall as he drives along the winding road that curves around the small hills leading to uptown. On either side, rows of magnificent houses sit, and street lamps cast a warm glow in the sea of darkness. It’s past midnight and everyone is sleeping.
Heath pulls up in front of his house. Rolling down the window, he punches in the code and the gates separate, making way for him to drive. He pulls up in the garage and parks the carbeside his sister’s car. When he switches off the engine, his gaze latches onto her car and his body goes rigid.
“She misses you too,” I say.
His gaze flickers to me and he leans over and kisses me.
Getting out of his side, he comes around and opens the door for me—it’s something he always does, but I still haven’t gotten used to it.
Lacing his fingers with mine, he kisses me again and then stares down at me.
“We need to talk,” he says.
I give him a weak nod. “Thank you for bringing me here. I don’t have anywhere else to go?—”
“Good. Because I don’t want you to go anywhere else when I’m here,” he says in a serious tone.
I give his hand a squeeze, because if I open my mouth only a sob will come out.
Heath has no idea how awful I feel right now. If I didn’t have him in life, I’d be on the streets, probably sleeping against a tree or in the back of an alley. But that’s not even the part that hurts. It’s the fact that my mother kicked me out and both of my parents are okay with it. As if they don’t care about what happens to me.They kicked me out.
Pain slices through me like a double-edged sharp sword. A twinge of excruciating pulse, biting deeply.
He steps closer. Cupping the back of my head, he presses a kiss on my head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”
How can I not?
“I’ve got you, Rose. I’vealwaysgot you. You can rely on me.”
Are you sure?
“It’s going to be okay.”
I don’t know about that.
“You can stay here.”
For how long?
