I sigh. I don’t feel so miserable talking about her. Maybe that’s the worst part.
“That an entirely other web to unravel. All you really need to know is she loves one thing in life. Shopping. Anytime she comes around or interacts with Billie or I, it’s so my father will provide an allowance. We see her so little, sometimes I forget she exists.”
I don’t hear Rosie’s heart breaking, but I can see it from the pained expression on her face. “I’m so sorry, Locke. That’s horrible.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Ghost bumps his nose into my chin, and the weight of the past doesn’t feel so heavy. “My parents are my parents. Dad is Dad. I’m accustomed to it by now.”
“No one should be used to being cast aside and mistreated.” A powerful meow follows her words, and I crack a smile. “See? Ghost agrees.”
“Ghost has had to deal with one too many of these monologues, I’m afraid.”
Right after I say it, heat rushes to my cheeks.
I just admitted I talk to my cat.
The sinking feeling doesn’t last for long, though. Rosie rids me of it when she smiles and pats Ghost on the head. “I don’t think he minds. But if he ever needs a break, I’m more than happy to stand in.”
The white ball of fur meows, and I hold him closer to my chest. I don’t think Ghost particularly minds my rants, either, but it’s nice to have someone else willing to listen.
“That’d be great. He’s been at it for a few years now. He deserves some time off.”
“How long have you had him?”
“Since freshman year of high school.” My teeth bite into my cheek. “My academy’s counselor suggested it.”
“For… anxiety?”
“She actually suggested it for companionship.” I push the words out while rearranging my glasses. It’s less humiliating than saying,because I had no friends. “But I did some research. Figured out an emotional service animal was a good idea.”
Ghost starts to purr, cuddled up in my arms, and I take it as agreement.
“I’m surprised your dad went with that.”
I’ve never heard Rosie mumble, but she does now. Like she’s afraid I’ll hear.
I throw half a smile her way, so she knows it’s okay to take jabs at him. It’s healing to hear someone validate the thoughts I’ve been too afraid to voice myself.
“He doesn’t know the specifics. We still had a nanny back then and she didn’t ask many questions. She just took me where I wanted to go. My parents would sign off on things without caring what they were for.”
“Not even if he was paying for it?”
The question digs at another part of my life I haven’t shared with her—something I haven’t shared with anyone. How deep my father’s pockets, and my own bank account, go.
I contemplate confiding that information to her, but I’ve never had that much trust in someone. Not even Billie.
I shove the secret back into the safety of my mind and grunt. “If it’s not in the tens of thousands, he doesn’t even notice. I doubt he remembers Ghost exists.”
My hand cradles the head of my best friend gently. If Dad did forget about the small kitten I adopted so many years ago, that’d be for the best. It’d be the one part of my life completely untainted by him.
The light in the room changes. The dimmed screen of our television flashes with a white pop-up, asking,“Are you still watching?”
With the hand not carefully holding Ghost, I grab the remote and quickly click“Yes.”
“Sorry. I talked your ear off.”
“No! Don’t apologize.” A handful of popcorn meets Rosie’s mouth, and I realize it’s the first she’s indulged in since I started speaking. Mumbling through the food, she says, “You just wait until I trauma dump on you. We’ll be here all fucking night.”
We both laugh. I imagine what that would be like. Sitting on this couch for a whole night, going back and forth with stories from our childhood. Discussing the moments that stayed with us until today.
