Sammie let go, let her tears fall in earnest as sobs shook through her. Atticus kept a hand on her, running his fingers through her hair, a constant reminder that he was there. Always.
The page between her fingers wasn’t proof that Greta would ever have accepted Sammie for who she was. But it provided hope that maybe, if time and the frailty of human bodies hadn’t gotten in the way, maybe she would have.
Maybe Sammie would have been enough just as she was.
“We’ll always have this,” Atticus said, taking the note back, folding it carefully, placing it back in his wallet for safekeeping. “And we’ll always have each other. Package deal, remember? It doesn’t matter if the house goes away, if all of thethingsinside it crumble to dust. They’re just things, they can’t take away the imprint that was left on us.”
“You’re right.” The warmth of the sun dried the tear tracks on Sammie’s cheeks, heating her skin. A balm on wounds that might never fully close. “It’s just a house.” A house full of memories, good and bad, empty now of all the people that made it so much more.
“You wanna stay the night? One last hoorah in the old place?” Atticus was watching her, a wariness in his expression as he tried to suss out what she might need from him in that moment.
“No,” Sammie said, pushing off the ground once more. She closed her eyes again, and the wind through her hair gave the illusion that she was flying, free of the cage around her heart at last. “I’m not quite ready for that yet.”
It was late. Visiting hours would come to a close soon, and Kieran hadn’t yet gone into the room where his father was recovering from the surgery.
Garrett was in with him now. He’d asked Kieran to wait at the door, in case things went sideways. Not that Kieran had ever been able to sway his father in any sort of direction once the man had dug his heels in. Stubborn to a fault. A trait that, unfortunately, ran through the entire family tree.
On both sides.
Kieran’s mother approached, her sneakers squeaking on the shiny linoleum floors of the hospital hallway. He’d known she would show up eventually. Kieran had been betting on it. It was why he hadn’t gone in to see his father yet. He didn’t think he could face Grant before he’d had a chance to at leasttryand smooth things over with Meredith.
“Mom.” Kieran’s voice cracked from disuse. Meredith only watched him with a calculating gaze. He cleared his throat to try again. “Mom. I’m sorry for getting so angry the other day, and for taking it out on you. I didn’t mean to blow up like that.” Silence spread between them as her eyes stayed glued to his face, her expression blank. Unyielding. Kieran felt the urge to keep going, to try to explain away his frustrations, to keep talking until she finally relented and saidsomething.Anything. Breathing deep, he settled on a final, “I’m sorry.”
Meredith matched his heavy breath with one of her own, letting out a sharp exhale as she finally looked away. “I appreciate the apology. For my part, I’m sorry that you felt so backed into a corner that you had to lash out. That’s never what I want from my child.”
Her words were good, right, what Kieran had hoped to hear, but still something waswrong. An unease spread through him, a creeping fear that he couldn’t pinpoint, but felt acutely regardless.
“However,” she finally continued. “Iamdisappointed in you, Kieran. Your father and I want nothing more than for you to be safe. Comfortable. But that does not mean I will stand idly by and watch you throw your future away.”
Kieran froze. He went numb from his chest down to his fingertips as realization settled over him. A fog that burned, one that he couldn’t find his way out of.
“Porn, Kieran? Really?” Her words were hushed, but no less heated. Daggers thrown, and he couldn’t see through the fog to avoid their sharpened edges. “I’ve never been more disappointed in you. How could you do this to your father and I?”
The fog cleared with a sudden gust of clarity. There was no anger, heat. A little resentment? Maybe. But not enough to topple him. Not enough to break the solid mask that Kieran felt click into place.
“Okay.” Kieran pulled a steadying breath into his lungs, let it fill him, ground him. “I understand. But I don’t need your permission to do what I want with my life.” Meredith opened her mouth, a fire in the eyes that were nearly the same shade of green as his own. Kieran held up a hand. “You don’t want to hear this, but I’m going to say it anyway. What I do, whether it’s for work, for fun, foranything, has very little to do with you. And while I appreciate everything you and Dad have done for me, all of the support you’ve given me since I decided to go pro, none ofthat means that I have to consult with you before I decide what I want for myself.”
Meredith’s lips parted with shock. Kieran hadn’t even pushed back all that hard, but it was so out of character, sodifferentfrom how he normally brushed off her demanding nature, that he’d left her speechless in a way he never had before.
“I love you, Mom. Dad too,” he continued. “But I’ll be damned if I let what youthinkis best for me keep me from the things Iknowthat I want. That I need.”
His voice didn’t shake. Kieran wasn’t sure how he managed that, considering the pounding in his chest. He could feel every beat of his heart, every pulse of blood through his veins. A steadying rhythm, but one that rattled through him more with every passing second.
As his mother watched him, still too shocked to find the retort Kieran knew would eventually come, he refused to let his mask slip.
Because if she was unwilling to accept every part of him, as he was now, standing before her, then she didn’t deserve to see the parts of him that he found so hard to share. The parts that were a gift reserved only for those who made him feel seen, who made him feel safe.
“You can go in now.” Garrett’s voice tugged Kieran’s attention away. His uncle stood in the doorway to the room, a gentle smile curling his lips, even as confusion filled his eyes when he looked between Kieran and Meredith.
“I’m going to tell Dad the same thing I just told you.” Kieran let finality seep into his words, his tone quiet but firm. “I hope he’s more willing to listen.”
A final jab, one that Kieran didn’t wait to see land as he turned, pushing through the door, letting it click shut behind him.
His father lay in the hospital bed.
Grant was awake, if only barely so. Kieran hesitated, pressing his back to the closed door. He’d never seen his father look so weak, frail. The strength had been sapped from his body, shown in his sallow cheeks and tired eyes.
“Dad.” Kieran moved toward the bed, toward all the machines his father was hooked up to.
