“That was our last conversation. After she dropped me off with Dad.”
“Rhys,” she breathed. “You were so young. Have some grace with yourself.” She gestured to the sleeping girls on the floor. “If they called you a horrible father, would you believe them? Or would you think gosh, they must be upset about something, and I need to talk to them?”
I shook my head. She still wasn’t getting it. “I did all that on purpose. She had to deal with me being a punk on top of the random bloody noses I used to get and the night terrors. Sometimes, she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep because of me.”
June’s mouth dropped all the way open. “How are you talking about this like any of it is your fault?”
“I was a lot to handle.”
“You. Were. A. Kid.” She straightened andrighteousness lit her eyes. “That’s why you’re so chill about Kirstin? You let her run off and basically abandon?—”
“June.” I tipped my head toward the living room. The girls should be asleep, but I couldn’t risk them hearing a bad word about their mother.
She slowly inhaled, her nostrils flaring. “If roles were switched, and Bethany and Hannah had gone off with their mom and the same things had happened, what would you say?”
I’d be pissed as hell at Kirstin. “It’s not the same?—”
“It is too.”
“It’s not.”
“How are you being so obtuse? It sounds like your mom was dealt a hard hand of cards, but she?—”
“She’s dead because of me.”
June
She’s dead because of me.
I turned over what Rhys had told me all night. I’d given up on sleep when the sun crested over the horizon enough to pour through the windows.
Angela Craft had dumped her son on his dad and returned to New York for the child-free life she thought she deserved. Then she’d been hit by a taxi on her way to rehearsal.
Rhys blamed himself.
He blamed himself for everything. A kid who’d likely had a narcissistic and neglectful mother.
Why couldn’t he see it? He’d never put that sort of pressure on the girls or blame them.
Did his self-recrimination and the flimsy support of his mother make it impossible for us to have a future?
I rolled to my side. Bethany popped her head up and blinked sleep out of her eyes.
“Is it morning?” she asked groggily.
“Yeah, but it’s early.”
She frowned and peeked at her sister. “Can I cuddle with you?”
Would Rhys mind? Could I say no to that vulnerable request? “Come on up.”
She scrambled onto the couch and wiggled between me and the cushions. When she was settled, her head was on my chest and she was snuggled into my side. “I miss having a mommy.”
“I’m sure she misses you, but you get to have her around before she leaves again.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t cuddle like this. She never really did,” she said sadly. “Did your mom?”
“Yes, both of them loved to cuddle.”
