“She’s fast asleep,” I whisper to Holden.
“She often falls asleep. It’s best to leave her. She’ll wake up at some point and either go home or stay. She knows she can always use the spare bedroom if she needs it.” He passes me a blanket and I tuck it around her, then I follow him quietly up the stairs. Neither of us speak until we’ve cleaned our teeth, got undressed, and climbed into bed. I prop myself up on one elbow and look down at him, and I smooth his hair off his face and run my hand down his cheek.
“Baby, do you know what Clara said earlier? It’s true. I love you. I feel like I always have in some way. Like it was a seed planted in me many years ago and it’s taken a long time for the conditions to be right for it to grow, but now it has, it’s bloomed into something wonderful, powerful, and precious. You were the one who planted that seed.”
I see a tear fall from the corner of his eye and roll down the side of his face. My heart clenches. Have I said the wrong thing?
“What’s wrong, baby?” I croak.
“Nothing.” He tries to smile but it comes out crooked. “I just never thought I’d hear those words from you.”
I press my lips tightly closed and swallow, trying to hold it together as I’m reminded again how hard it must have been for him.
“I hated you for so long. I had to in order to be able to cope, even though deep down I still loved you. But now I’m happy, truly happy. I love you too, and I always have.”
I fail to keep it in and my own tears fall, landing on the pillow.
“No, don’t you cry, darling.”
“I’m happy too,” I sob and pull him to me. I wrap myself around him and nuzzle into his hair. They’re tears of joy, overflowing from my heart, which burst wide open the moment he called me darling.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Holden
I glance over at Reece while he’s driving. I can barely take my eyes from him. He’s so much more than I could ever have imagined in my wildest dreams, and I did have dreams about him—many of them.
“Well?” he asks when I look over at him for the hundredth time.
“Just happy,” I say, and he laughs joyfully.
We’ve just left my parents’ and we’re driving to his mom’s. He says he has to pick up a couple of things and then he has a surprise for me. Of course my parents loved him, I knew they would, but then, he was charming. He listened intently while my dad bent his ear about flowers for what felt like an hour. My parents have a blind spot when it comes to recognizing if they’re boring anyone or not, it’s probably their age, but Reece was gracious and asked a lot of questions, winning the approval of my dad for sure. He won my mom over straight away, not that heneeded to, by complimenting her cooking. He asked about her recipes and was just utterly adorable.
He recounted a tale of when he’d met them before, at my tenth birthday party, which I remember was the day I first knew I was attracted to boys—and to Reece. Of course they remembered, and he made my parents laugh. He hugged them when we left and said he’d take care of me, so you could say dinner was a great success and I couldn’t be happier. So I’m allowed to look over his handsome face with a huge grin on my face.
“My parents loved you,” I say and he smiles.
“They’re great people, after all, they raised you.” He pulls up outside his mom’s house, and I reach over and pinch the flesh on his forearm.
“Ow!” he exclaims, though I know I didn’t do it hard enough to actually hurt him.
“Why did you do that?”
“Just checking you’re real.”
“Oh, I’m real, baby. You’re going to feel just how real I am later.”
“Yes please. I like the sound of that.” He leans across to kiss me and I move in to meet him halfway. Our lips barely connect before his eyes fly wide open and he draws back.
“What the fuck!”
“What is it?”
“That.” he says, pointing. I follow his finger and his eyes, and see a green ’64 Buick parked up. “That’s my dad’s car. What’s he doing here?” He’s out of the car and is striding toward the house in a flash. I scramble to follow him.
He stops suddenly when he gets to the kitchen, and I run into the solid wall of his back. I peer around him. Theresa and a guy in a plaid shirt are sitting at the kitchen table, and I’ve never met Reece’s dad, but I guess this is him. I can feel the tension coming off him in waves. His body is rigid, his hands are fisted by his side, and his jaw is set.
“Hi, honey. Hi, Holden,” Theresa calls out.
