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“Hey.” She smiles timidly before glancing down at the clean floor. “Thank you.” She clears her throat. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to,” I remind her.
She squints, then takes a few steps over to a spot on a wooden plank. “Dang it.” She lowers, running her fingers over something I can’t see. “There’s a huge gouge in the floor.” She curses under her breath. “Mr. Brown is going to flip.”
I almost chuckle.
“You know how he is.” She stands. “I mean, he’s a good landlord, but he was very particular about damages when we signed the rent papers.”
Walking over to her, I examine the spot. It’s not even that big. “Don’t worry about Mr. Brown.”
Her hands go to her hips. “He’s going to make me pay for that.”
“No, he’s not.”
“And how do you know?” She lifts a brow.
“Because he doesn’t own this house. I do,” I confess.
Her face scrunches and she blinks in surprise. “What do you mean you do?”
“Well.” I reach out, taking her by the hand to lead her to the couch. “What I mean is, six months after you signed the lease, I heard he was trying to sell.”
I fall back on the couch, then tug her down next to me. “It was hard enough for you to find a rental here in town and I knew you didn’t want to move back home, so I bought it.” I shrug.
She stares at me. “I’m not sure I’m understanding.”
I smirk. “There’s not much to it, Rosie. I wanted you to have a place you felt independent. I know it’s important to you to prove that not only to yourself, but your family. You needed a place that was yours. I bought it for you.”
“But I send all my rent to the P.O. Box in town.” She frowns. “You aren’t even here how do…”
“Mom.” I reach up, tucking a piece of wild hair behind her ear. “She handles the checks for me.”
“Is that why my rent decreased?” She narrows her eyes.
“Yes. But you don’t pay rent. I have a savings account set up in your name. It’s all there,” I add.
Her blue eyes grow wide, and I prepare myself for the outburst, or the I can handle my own shit speech I’ve gotten more than once from her mouth, but it doesn’t come. I can see the emotions building along with a fresh set of tears.
Before I can open my mouth, she moves her hand, clasping it tight against mine.
“Grey…” she whispers.
“Yeah, baby?” I graze my thumb along her knuckles.
“What you said the other day…about there not being a single day that was not spent loving me…” she worries her lip. “Is that true?”
Her eyes are puffy, and her lips swollen. She’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Do flamingo’s mate for life?” I ask.
She squeezes my hand with a soft laugh. “According to Animal Planet, yes.”
I watch her gaze go from our joined hands, back to my face. “Yeah, Rosie. Every word I said was true.”
Her sharp intake of breath told me she needed to hear it, but it was only a small crack in the protective wall she had built up. It would take a lot more truths for me to reach the place I wanted to be.
Her heart.
