Page 177 of Before You Fell

Plus, he feeds me his cock for dessert.

Mom nods, satisfied enough with the answer to let it go.

Behind Mom, Dad has not moved from his spot. With his arms folded over his chest, he watches Phoenix move to help as I reach for a mug from the cupboard. He watches Phoenix slide a plate of food in front of Mom and me.

Dad looks down at the floor before looking back up at Phoenix. He says nothing, but I catch it on his face. That small, reluctant shift of a man who came here with his mind already made up, only to find it harder to hold onto than he expected.

When Phoenix opens the fridge and takes out two beers, the room shifts before a word is spoken.

He holds out one beer to Dad.

Dad looks at it for a second before taking it.

They stand on opposite sides of the kitchen island, bottles in hand, and talk about nothing for a while. The apartment. The traffic. Easy territory that neither of them has to work too hard.

Soon, the conversation shifts when Dad asks about the next tour.

“UK next month,” Phoenix says. “Willow has her job back with the band. We sorted it out with the label.”

He glances at me briefly and Dad’s gaze follows.

“I want it back,” I say. “I love the work.”

Dad is quiet for a moment. “And what if it goes back to how it was?”

Phoenix cuts me off before I can answer. “Then Willow and I will work out what comes next. Together.”

“That’s vague,” Dad replies, lifting his beer to his lips for a sip.

“Yeah,” Phoenix says, meeting his eyes. “But it’s the truth she is not a footnote in this, Graham. She never should have been. I accept that and I’m aware of it. Wills does not come second to any of it. Not the tour, not the label, not me. You don’t have to worry about that. I promise you.”

Dad looks at him for a long moment and something shifts between them. Not forgiveness. Dad is no fool and Phoenix has not earned that kind of clean slate. But it’s the beginning of something.

Dad says nothing and takes a drink. Which, from my father, is as close to a truce as Phoenix is going to get today.

When I head to my room to find a sweater, Mom follows me in, and I know why she is really there.

She looks at me for a moment and I hate that I still want to be brave under her gaze.

“You look so much better, Willow,” she says.

“I am,” I say, pulling on my sweater.

“I know.” Her eyes soften, then grow careful. “Phoenix seems different.”

I glance toward the door as Phoenix’s low voice carries faintly from the kitchen. “He is.”

“But I need you to be careful, Willow.”

A year ago, I would have defended Phoenix. I would have told Mom she didn’t know what she was talking about. That’s how I know I have changed.

“I am careful, Mom,” I say.

She lets out a breath. “You’ve loved that boy since you were a little girl.”

“Mom, I’m aware of who Phoenix is.”

Her eyes search mine. “Willow.”