The softness in Rosalyn's face shifts to concern, her smile fading. "A bar fight? He was arrested?"
"It wasn't his fault," I say quickly, defensively. "Some guys were harassing him and he defended himself. They started it. He just finished it."
"Ivan—"
"He's had a hard time, Rosalyn." I set down the glass of water, meeting her eyes. "After we got separated, after the system split us up, he didn't have anyone. No family, no support. No one to help him. He aged out of the system with nothing. Not even a place to sleep."
"Where does he live now?"
"A motel. In Macon. The Vista Inn." Just saying it makes my chest ache. "He works at a motorcycle shop. He's really talented. You shouldsee what he can do with engines. The things he builds. But he's been on his own for years, since he was eighteen, and it's been—" I shake my head, remembering the whiskey bottle, the bruises, the exhaustion in his eyes. "It's been rough for him. Really rough."
Rosalyn is quiet for a moment, stirring the soup in slow circles. I can see her processing, can see the worry settling into the lines around her mouth, the crease between her eyebrows.
"Ivan," she says carefully, slowly, like she's picking her words. "I'm happy you found him. I know how much you've been searching. How important this was to you. But a bar fight? Living in a motel? That sounds like someone who might be in a difficult place. A complicated situation."
"He is in a difficult place," I agree. "That's exactly why I went to see him. Because he needed me."
"I don't want you to get hurt," Rosalyn says. "Or pulled into something. Into a situation that's too heavy for you to handle. Sometimes people who are struggling can pull others down with them, even when they don't mean to. Even when they're good people. I've seen it happen, Ivan. Too many times."
"He's not going to hurt me. Jay would never hurt me. Never. He's the reason I survived long enough to end up here with you. He's the reason I'm alive."
Rosalyn holds up her hands in a placating gesture. "I'm not saying he's a bad person. I can tell how much he means to you. I'm just saying that sometimes people who are struggling can pull others down with them, even when they don't mean to. Even when they love you. I worry about you, baby. That's all."
"That's not going to happen."
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do. I know Jay. I know who he is, what he's capable of. And yeah, he's struggling right now. He's having a hard time. But that doesn't mean I'm going to abandon him. I spent seven years looking for him. I'm not going to walk away just because his life is messy. That's not who I am."
Rosalyn studies me for a long moment, her dark eyes searching my face. Then she sighs, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the worrystill creasing her forehead. "You're stubborn. You know that? So stubborn."
"I learned from the best," I say, and manage a small smile back.
She laughs softly and pulls me into a hug, her arms strong around me. "Just be careful, okay? Guard your heart. And bring him here sometime. Soon. Let me meet him. Let me see for myself what kind of person he is."
"I will," I promise against her shoulder. "When he's ready. When things are a little more stable."
She pulls back, cups my face in both hands. "You really care about him, don't you?"
More than I can say. "Yeah. I really do."
***
I escape to my room after dinner, pleading exhaustion from the drive. It's not entirely a lie. I am tired, bone-deep tired from the emotional rollercoaster of the weekend and the drive. But mostly I just want to be alone. I want to lie on my bed and think about Jay and text him without anyone looking over my shoulder, asking questions.
My phone is already buzzing when I close the door, lean back against it.
You home?
I smile, typing back:Yeah. Just got done with dinner. Rosalyn made soup.
Jay:How'd it go? With Rosalyn?
I think about how to answer, how to explain without worrying him.She's worried about you. About the bar fight.
Jay:She should be worried. I'm a mess. A disaster waiting to happen.
Me:You're not a mess. You're just going through a hard time. There's a difference.
