Usually, it wouldn’t make much of a difference to me whether or not they like me, but it’s important to Maisie.
I get it.
Just because my own family situation is fucked-up and nonexistent, so to speak, she’s close with her parents.
“It did. Your father didn’t break out the holy water when he met me, so anything’s better than that,” I tease, and she laughs and playfully pinches my side. “No, I really like your dad. He’s a hockey fan, so we had plenty to talk about.”
Maisie nods. “Yeah, he’s a Montreal fan though.” Her nose crinkles. “Sorry.”
No he’s not.
She’s lying, the little brat.
Her mouth suddenly curves into a cute little smile, and I quickly dip my head, stealing a kiss.
“Thank you for meeting them,” she whispers as she reaches up and trails her fingers along my bottom lip, over my jaw. Always touching in some way, even if it’s just our arms pressed together side by side, like she craves the physical touch. “It means a lot to me, Wilder.”
“I’d do anything for you, Sunshine.”
As much as I try not to think about my mother and the cell that she’s sitting in… meeting Maisie’s parents has brought her to the forefront of my mind.
It’s the first time I think I’ve ever really witnessed the kind of love her parents have for her. Warm and genuine, like Maisie, but also fierce and unwavering.
The kind of love I used to wish for when I was young.
I’ve spent so long running from my past, running from the memory of my mother, running until my legs have given the fuck up.
I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired.
I’m done letting it drag me down and control my life. Doesn’t mean I’m going to wake up one day and the wound’s magically going to have disappeared, all that trauma gone with it.
No, shit doesn’t work like that.
But what I can do is not let it steal any more of the present when it’s already stolen so much of my life.
I won’t.
Not when the girl in my arms gives me hope for the future, forourfuture together. If I can’t do it for me, then I’ll do it for her.
My mother is exactly where she deserves to be. She can pay retribution for the things that she’s done, but she’s not getting another fucking second of my life.
She’s had far more than she ever deserved to have.
“You know, my mom noticed your toothbrush.”
“Oh fuck.”
Maisie laughs, propping her chin on my chest. “It made me think. You should probably just move in with me.”
I lift a brow. “You want me to move in here?”
“I mean, now that Lennon’s gone, I’m all alone, and Wilder… youhavestayed here like every night for nearly what, a month?” she says, lifting her shoulder. The freckles dusting her nose are lighter right now with the winter months, barely noticeable, but still cute as fuck. “I’m pretty sure poor Carl the cactus is dead at this point.”
“Cactuses barely need water, baby. I’m sure he’s fine.” I smirk.
She’s not wrong though. I honestly can’t even remember the last time I slept at my own apartment, in my own bed. We’ve been soaking up all the time we could together, and this is just where we usually end up.
“Would you… want to? Move in here?” The way she whispers the words, soft and hesitant, it’s like she’s worried maybe I don’t want that.
