With Rourke, it was never that way. Even if I tried to have a false front, he saw through it to the real me.
But someone like Garrett was good for me. And maybe he was right. Maybe I couldn’t be sure about Rourke. And if so, what then?
If I was wrong about Rourke, it wouldn’t change the fact that Rourke had changed me forever. Life and death. The cycle of it all. The lack of control. He had taught me that the only thing I could control was being who I wanted to be, which was what the tree symbolized. Rourke’s tree. Growth and rebirth and death. It all followed the same path. He had shown me that.
My mother was going to freak out when she saw the tattoo. Especially with the showing so close.
“My showing is in a couple of nights. Well,” I paused, “it’ll be my opening. The show will be around for at least another month.”
“Congratulations,” he said, his word dry and harsh.
A response like that wasn’t supposed to bother me. So I didn’t let it.
“Do you want to come?” I asked. “I know this is stupid, but I could use the company.” I laughed. “My mother can be impossible to deal with sometimes.”
He opened his mouth, a smirk dancing across his lips, and I instantly remembered the wedding. He had asked me to save him from a family affair, and I had turned him down, hoping that Rourke would visit me. Now, I was asking him for the same thing, but reversed. To help me deal with family, while avoiding Rourke.
I know he was thinking about it, but he didn’t bring it up at all. “I was hoping you would invite me,” he said.
