Hesitantly she gets up and makes the two steps toward me. I help her flop down on my knees, inhaling the faint smell of strawberries from her collarbone. Out of nowhere she flinches, tensing up above me, as if she wants me to stop.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I… um… Sorry.” Her hand looks for mine as she swallows hard. “It reminds me of… of the man in the basement cell. He asked me to sit on his knee and then—”
Fuck.
“I’m sorry, angel,” is all I can say to that. Because there’s no erasing those memories—no physical monster I can fight. The ghosts of the past now live in that beautiful mind of hers, and I know that even with everything I’m doing to help her, it won’t be enough. The weight of the situation presses down on me in full force. I move the plates around, lift her up in my arms, and sit her down on the table in front of me with my hands on her thighs.
“How’s this?”
She smiles faintly. “Thank you. And I’m really—”
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t apologize on that asshole’s behalf. We’ll get through this, angel. You and me. Okay?”
I let my hand move up and down her thigh, centering her back to the present moment. I know the situation isn’t ideal, and I wish I could’ve given her more time to adjust to all of this—to making her my wife. But the reality is, I don’t have it. That time is almost up.
“You know, when I was a kid my father used to tell me I didn’t have what it took to follow in his footsteps. He used to say…” I inhale. “That I’m impulsive. Hotheaded. That I’d never make it far unless I changed everything about myself. And maybe he was right.” My jaw tightens. “But it didn’t matter what I did. It was never enough for him. I was never enough.”
“If your grandfather was alive, he would’ve whipped you until your flesh came out.”
“Man the fuck up, boy. No wonder your mom can’t even look at you.”
“Get out of my face. You’re embarrassing me.”
I trail my hands down to her shins, trying to remain present, but it doesn’t stop the memories from clawing their way in. “I tried to prove him wrong. I really did. But I couldn’t be who he wanted me to be. Because I didn’t want to become like him. He was…” My voice falters, and the memory hits me.
I’m five. My mom brings out the birthday cake, her sweet voice filling the house with the first words of the Happy Birthday song. My father just stands there in the hallway with his combat boots still on. His face changes, scrunching under his incoming rage.
“Wherethe fuckis the food?” he yells. “I come home after the worst fucking day at work and this is what I get?” He disappears into the small adjacent kitchen, then comes back with a knife in his hand.
My mom has stopped singing. My heart thrashes in my chest, knowing what’s next.
“Come here, both of you.” He yells and yells, cursing as the vein on his forehead threatens to pop. His muddy boots pound through the spotless hallway as my mom and I back away. I keep close, knowing I’ll be the first to die before I let anything happen to her.
“Barrett… please,” my mom sobs, the cake shaking in her hands. “Please, think about Rowan. Please.”
I wave the memory away with a swipe on Dove’s skin. “I thought I could be different. Thought if I waited, if I planned everything perfectly, I could protect you—could keep you safe. But…” I look up at her, hoping she can’t see the cracks in me. “So far, all I did was to prove him right.”
Her eyes soften, but she keeps listening.
“That’s why I waited so long to make you mine. Even if I may be everything my father tells me I am, this decision wasn’t made today. It was made five years ago, when you smiled at me with tears in your eyes. Do you understand? This isn’t some… somethingI decided on a whim. I’ve been waiting for this day my whole life. For you to come in and show me what it’s like to—” I swallow.
“T-To what?” she whispers.
My throat swells, and I make a conscious effort to keep the words locked inside. But it’s my heart—my fuckingheart—that grabs them and throws them out so she can hear me. So she can see more of who I am, more of who I was before her. I’ve given no one a look inside before, not even a glance. Dove… she gave me all of her, even when she didn’t know she was giving it. I took and took and took and only gave back small bits and pieces. Not because I didn’t want her to know me fully, but because… I think deep down, I was afraid she might not want me anymore.
“To live,” I say. “And not walk around life half-dead all the time.”
She offers me a faint smile and a gentle touch on my arm. “I’m… I’m sorry. I had no idea your father was so tough. What about your mom? They’re still together, aren’t they?”
I nod. “She never left him, not even after I’d made something of myself and told her I could provide for her. I couldn’t understand it, not for a long while. But now I think that in their messed-up, toxic way, they love each other, orneedeach other like they need air.”
“Codependency,” she murmurs.
“Something like that. When I got older I could fight him, put him into his place. He hasn’t laid a hand on her since, but he’s still a bastard every chance he gets. We’ll never have a relationship, him and I, and neither of us intends on starting one. We’re civil only for my mother’s sake.”
“I’m sorry,” she says again. “And I hope you don’t believe what he says, Rowan, because it’s not true. Youaregood enough. God, you are more than good enough. You’re…” She breathes out. “Everything.”
