Page 116 of Embrace

He crosses his arms. “So your girlfriend’s in there? Talking to her dad?”

“He’s more of a shitty sperm donor.”

“And you’re out here in the rain, in case she comes out upset?”

“Upset, happy, neutral. Anything. I want to be here for her.”

He hums in approval. “That’s good of you.”

“Is it? I should be in there with her. I shouldn’t have let her go in the first place.” Everything in me was screaming that it’s wrong, and that nothing her father could say would make her feel better. “I messed up, didn’t I?”

“If some kid loved a girl enough to give her the space to figure things out, but still stuck around to help pick up the pieces, no questions asked, I’d be a pretty damn proud father if my daughter loved someone like that. Someone like you.”

“Sorry, I’m taken. But I’m sure she’s great.”

He stares blankly. “Hypothetical.”

My foot still taps nervously against the concrete. “You really think that?”

He nods. “She’s a lucky girl.”

“I’m the lucky one.”

The doors on the opposite side of the building open, and Scarlett barrels out of them. My resolve drops to the rain-soaked pavement as I wait to see her face.

“Is that her?” he asks.

I can’t answer. I can barely hear him. All I see is the ray of red, engulfed by darkness.

“Scarlett?”

Her gaze lifts to mine, and her brown eyes are drowning in tears. Her cheeks are wet, her nose is red, and I can see her pink lips quivering even from a distance. A rush of anger cloaks me. I’m not sure if I’m running or walking; all I know is that I need to get to her and the distance is too much when my heart is in my throat.

Her sob breaks me open when we collide.

“I’m here,” I brush the words against her temple.

I pull my open jacket tight around her, shielding her from the rain, hoping the flimsy fabric could cushion her from so much more.

Each sniffle is a cleaver between my ribs, pressing right into my lungs. Every path my thoughts take to resolve this for her, to take just an ounce of her pain and stop the tears falling like a stream down her reddened cheeks.

“He told me it’s my fault. All of it.”

I feel useless. All I see are the cracks, splitting wider and wider, and no matter how badly I want—need—to be the one who fills them for her, I can’t. And if I can’t fix this, then what good am I?My hand covers the back of her head, muffling her half sobs intomy shirt. I can’t hear it. Not a single word. Or I’m sure I’ll be the one locked up in there.

Still no words come to mind, but as the wind blows and her sobs grow even more painful, I move so my lips brush against the shell of her ear and I start to hum. It comes out of nowhere, and I can’t seem to stop it.

It’s the only time her shaking stops. Then when she peeks up at me, everything inside my chest shatters.

“Take me home?”

“With me?” I ask just to be sure.

She nods.

Forty

Scarlett