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Because somewhere along the way, I’d fallen in love with him.
It wasn’t something I’d even realized until the night before after I’d gotten out of the shower. I’d just finished shaving when he’d appeared behind me, his beautiful eyes watching me in the mirror. He hadn’t said anything even after I’d finished. He’d merely taken my hand and led me from the bathroom. I’d presumed our destination was the bed where we’d spent every night wrapped in each other’s arms since that first night he’d come to my room. But instead, he’d led me out of the room and down the hallway. I’d pulled him to a stop when I’d spied Jenna’s open bedroom door and the light on in her room. Dante had stopped long enough to cup my cheek and whisper, “Trust me.” I’d followed him into the room and spied several empty boxes sitting on her bed.
“It should be you who packs up the things that meant the most to her,” he’d said.
I’d stood there for the longest time as I’d tried to garner the courage to do just that. When I’d finally managed a nod, Dante had wiped away the few tears that had escaped unnoticed down my cheeks and then he’d handed me one of the boxes. We hadn’t spoken as I’d begun carefully removing the pictures taped around the edge of the vanity mirror on her dresser and I was glad for that. Someday I would share the memories all those pictures had brought forth with Dante. And Matty, too, when he was old enough.
The act of packing up her things had hurt, but it had also helped in a way too because I got to remember all the times when Jenna and I hadn’t fought…when we’d just been father and daughter. As the primary parent, I’d been the one who’d had to wear all the hats including being the disciplinarian, a role Jenna had naturally rebelled against as she’d gotten older. And while there’d been plenty of times where Jenna had thrown the dreaded ‘I hate you’ line at me, as I’d taken down the pictures, I’d seen nearly as many of me as I had of Matty. Some had just been of me, others had been of Jenna and me doing all the things we’d loved doing together, even when she’d been in the throes of her addiction. Riding, swimming, cooking.
Logically I’d known she hadn’t really hated me, but seeing the pictures were validation that she’d loved me. And God, I’d needed to know that.
I’d only packed up the most precious of her personal possessions, leaving the rest like her clothes for the movers to deal with. I’d put the boxes I’d packed in the SUV so they’d be with me for the journey back to Seattle. They wouldn’t be going into some cold, impersonal storage space somewhere. No, they’d be with me wherever I was and I’d take them out whenever I needed to remember Jenna for who she’d been, not the way she’d died.
That night was the first night Dante and I hadn’t made love. He’d just held me in his arms as we’d talked. I’d told him about my childhood and he’d regaled me with all the good memories he had of growing up in the suburbs just outside of Washington D.C. before his father had died and he and his mother had moved to Brazil. I’d gotten to hear more about Aleks too, though those memories had been much more bittersweet. I hadn’t missed how Dante never spoke about Aleks in the past tense, but I hadn’t pointed that out. He still needed that hope to hang on to and I knew better than anyone how important it was to never give up the belief that someone was coming home until you had absolute proof that they weren’t. Hope had been the only thing that had gotten me out of bed day after agonizing day.
I’d known as Dante had shared his stories with me that I was in love with him. It wasn’t one of those stunning, ‘stop the presses kind’ of things…it was just this feeling of rightness that had spread over me…through me. I hadn’t even cared that it was too soon or that he might not feel the same way. I’d just reveled in knowing I’d finally found what I’d just accepted was something I’d never have. There’d be plenty of time later to deal with all the uncertainty that came along with being in love.
I released Dante and took his hand in mine as we began walking towards the front of the house. “Did you get your test results?” I asked.
“No,” Dante muttered. “Why does everything in Texas move at the speed of nothing?” he said irritably.
I smiled. “I got mine.”
Dante practically yanked me to a halt. “Wait, what?”
