Rowyn leaned up and kissed her again.
“I’ve never been described as perky before.”
Eliza found that difficult to believe.
“Never?” Eliza asked.
“Nope. Too loud, too needy, too hyper, too much. But never perky.”
Rowyn’s features shifted with the memories, and Eliza immediately wanted to relieve the sadness washing over her.
“Sounds like you’ve spenttoo muchtime with a lot ofassholes,” Eliza said.
Rowyn chuckled.
“That was mostly my parents, but yeah, you’re not wrong there.”
Eliza’s heart ached at the idea of a little Rowyn being put down by the people responsible for her existence. The ones who should have been building her up.
“Do you still see your parents?”
It hit Eliza that she knew very little about Rowyn outside of her life here with them. Rowyn was someone who spoke a lot and made you feel like you knew them while revealing nothing in the process. Eliza wanted to know more. She wanted to know everything.
“Not really. They work a lot, as they did my whole childhood. I visit my little sister sometimes, and they’ll come over and pretend to care about my life, but that’s about it. They were always far happier to spend time at work than with us, and that hasn’t changed.”
Eliza nodded, but she couldn’t help wondering if that’s how her kids felt about her. Was she walking that same path with them? Could Rowyn see the parallels?
“You’re not them,” Rowyn said.
“What?” Eliza asked, worried that she had somehow said the words aloud.
“I can see your face analysing my words. I did wonder when I first arrived, if I’m honest, but I quickly realized you’re nothing like them. You care deeply about being a part of Amelia and Elliot’s life, and it’s beautiful to see your bond with them.”
Eliza smiled.
“Thank you. I do worry, and I get angry sometimes because Henry likely never wonders the same thing. He’s a great father, but his work takes him away for weeks on end at times, and that’s seen as perfectly fine. But God forbid I hire a nanny toensure my children have some stability and consistency when I travel.”
Rowyn nodded along.
“Does he feel that way? I’ve seen it repeatedly in the families I work in. The social norms worm their way into the most progressive of people.”
Eliza shook her head.
“No, no, Henry is great honestly. He’s one of my best friends. He gets how hard I’ve worked and has no issue with me being gone. His mother has quite a bit to say on it, though. She minds the kids during Henry’s time with them if he has to work. Henry asked her to be their minder while I’m away too, but she won’t do it out of principle becausetheir mother should be home with them and I’m not making it easier for her not to be.”
Rowyn scoffed.
“That’s bullshit.”
Eliza laughed at the succinct reply.
“It is. The kids love her, though, so I do my best to keep things civil. My mom would probably feel the same anyway, so…”
Eliza trailed off.
“Your momwould probablyfeel that way? Do you not talk to her?” Rowyn asked.
Eliza was silent as she tried to sum up her relationship with her mom in a way that would make sense to Rowyn.
