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“I know you did. From the minu
te you turned eight, you started demanding freedom. We always told you, if you want it, you have to earn it. And once you earn it, you have to keep earning it. You have to work for it. It doesn’t happen overnight and it’s never easy.” I nod impatiently when he stops talking and looks at me to see if I’m keeping up. Satisfied, he continues.
“Honesty, Courage and Kindness, my love. Those are the ingredients. You’ve always been courageous, Lilly. And there’s not a kinder soul in the world. No one’s heart is as wide open and giving as yours. But, until you decided to start being honest, you were always going to find that freedom elusive. The truth is your responsibility. Not just to yourself, but to the people who you love.”
He puts his arm around my shoulder, and strokes my hair. I close my eyes and say a prayer of gratitude that I’ve had my father here when I needed him more than I ever have in my life.
“I’m sorry that you suffered alone, Lilly. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m sorry that those who were let their fear stop them from making you tell them what was wrong.”
“I know. You don’t have to say it again.” My family has spent the last two month in a circle jerk of apologies. Them to me for not wanting to see what was plain as day and me to them, for not trusting them with the truth sooner. “I think we’re all sorry’d out, now.”
He chuckles softly.
“Well, let me just get in one more apology, it’s a new one. “
I quirk an eyebrow at him and lean away from him, eyeing him suspiciously. He holds up a hand, as if to say “patience.”
“That you shouldn’t be tempted to run when things seem hopeless, because that is only an illusion. Light can’t be seen without the dark. And the darker it is, the brighter the light shines.”
“Okay, Socrates.” I tease him, but I hear his words, they wash over me like warm rain and I soak them in.
“Now, for my apology. I didn’t tell you that Harry called the house this morning. He found some courage and asked Dean for our number. And then, he actually used it. He asked me if he could come visit and I said yes. I gave him our address and he’s on his way.”
I jump up out of the chair and screech, “What? Omigod, Dad. What?” I look across the yard to my back door and start to pace. My pulse is doing what I think is the happy dance. Joy unfiltered and fast moving as wildfire, fills me from the inside out. My mind races. I run my fingers through my hair and when it gets snagged in a knot of curls, I remember all of the things I’ve neglected over the last couple of months.
I turn to face my father, my eyes wide and frantic. He’s smiling.
I ignore his smile and demand, “When’s he coming? I mean, next week, next month? Did he say?” I wonder if I’ll be able to get an appointment with Helena, my wax lady. She’s usually booked, but if I beg, she might be able to fit me in next week. “Why didn’t you tell me this morning? How could you keep that to yourself all day?” I rush back to the chair and grab my phone and start scrolling through my contacts. I need a mani pedi desperately.
“Well, I kind of promised I wouldn’t say anything until he got here.”
Fingers freeze and the phone falls out of my hand. I stare at my father, stupefied at what he’s saying.
All the blood in body seems to rush to my head and I feel a little like I might fall over.
“Wh-what?” I whisper.
My father’s smile spreads into a huge, satisfied grin.
And then, like the answer to all of my prayers, Harry is standing across the yard, filling the frame of the door that leads into my house.
My tall, dark, impossibly handsome Harry is here. His beautiful hair is completely unruly, his dark heavy brows furrowed, his sexy eyes, the ones I lost myself in so many times are boring into me
I let my eyes feast on him and my hungry, starving heart starts to fill itself with the same passion and happiness I see reflected in his eyes. I wish I was a liquid so he could put the vessel that held me to his lips and drink me. I want to be absorbed by him.
My greedy gaze moves to his mouth. The one that should come with a warning sign that says, “Kiss me and you’ll never be the same,” is tilted up at the corners and he mouths, “I’m sorry.”
Tears spring to my eyes and my mouth forms the words I never thought I’d have the chance to say - “I love you.”
He drops his bag and starts walking toward me. His eyes eating up the distance faster than his legs can. His intent is clear, he’s coming to bind me to him so that I can’t ever leave him again. I can’t fucking wait. So, I start walking too.
My father, who I’d completely forgotten was there, stands up and says, “I’ll give you some privacy,” and walks past Harry into the house, and shuts the door behind him.
As soon as the door closes, we break into a run and close the short distance between us in less than three strides.
And then I’m in his arms. The energy of us, connected and revived, creates a crackle in the air. We don’t speak. Our mouths, hands and hearts immediately lock onto their soul mates and love takes over.
His kiss, more passionate and demanding than any kiss we’ve ever shared, steals my breath and my knees sag. He stoops down, hooks an arm under my knees and swings me up into his arms. And, Oh. My. God. As soon as my arms wrap around his neck, my heart sings, We’re home.
