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My tone is soft, but I need to know why. I know we fought. I know I let her down by keeping us a secret. But I thought she could turn to me.
She’s leaning against the table, and her shoulders slump. “I didn’t realize it was this serious.” Her eyes start to water. “I didn’t connect the dots. I feel so stupid.”
I understand what she’s saying, but that wasn’t what I was asking. Why didn’t tell me what was happening last night? This morning?
I reach my hand out, but she moves out of my grasp.
Fuck.
“Why did you go out by yourself last night?” I question, frustrated she won’t let me back in.
Emotion flickers in her eyes. “I’m allowed to leave my house by myself.”
I lift my hand, palm out. “I didn’t say you couldn’t. I just don’t understand why you thought going out to a bar by yourself late at night was a good idea.”
“You mean why didn’t I call you?”
“Anyone. Why didn’t you call anyone?”
“I don’t need a keeper.”
“I know you don’t, but you have a stalker, and you went out late by yourself, and—”
“I didn’t know I had a stalker, and what was I going to do? Call up the guy who pretends that I don’t exist when we’re around friends? No, thank you.” She crosses her arms over her chest.
I ignore her dig. “I shouldn’t have left you last night. I should have stayed, worked things out. None of this would have happened.” I glare at the floor.
Had I stayed, she would have been protected.
“Well, you didn’t and I wasn’t interested in working things out,” she snaps. Her sass is a welcome reprieve from the emotionless state she was just in.
“I should have stayed or at least come back. I wanted to. Instead, I sulked in my bedroom, pissed off.” I run my hand through my hair.
“But you didn’t,” she hisses.
I look at her, and her anger matches mine own. “I know and I’m sorry. But are you really so mad at me that wouldn’t reach out to me and tell me what was going on? Bernadette, I had to find out secondhand that something was going on. I called you. I texted. You ignored me.”
Her eyes search mine, fury written all over her face. “You’re not my boyfriend, Wade. It’s not your job to protect me. To look over me. I don’t owe you a check-in.”
Her words spear into me. I rub my chest. She’s right.
But I hate that it’s not my job. It needs to be my job.
“This didn’t happen to you, Wade. It happened to me. I’m not holding you accountable for not being my protector.”
I move toward her, done with the distance. “You’re right, it didn’t happen to me. But it happened to someone I care deeply about, and it’s not okay.” I swallow and move slowly as to not spook her. “I’m not okay. I panicked. I ran down here and beat on your door, and you didn’t answer. And all I could think about was that I needed to see you, feel you, to make sure you were really okay. You kept me in the dark. And I hate that.”
I reach her, and my toes brush the tips of her shoed feet. Her eyes are wild, her face flushed.
“I’m not going to fail again, Bernadette. I’m not going to let what happened last night ever happen again.”
She clutches her arms around her waist, and her chin quivers.
“I don’t care about who sees or knows or what anyone thinks or says, only that I’m here when you need me,” I confess and her eyes fill with water.
My strong girl, fighting her emotions when she just needs to let them go. It’s safe. I’m right here. “I’ve got you, Bernadette.”
Tears fall down her face, and her eyes close. I reach out and tug her into me. Her arms wrap around my waist, and her face buries into my chest as snobs shake through her.
“I’m here right here. I’ve got you, baby,” I repeat into her hair, holding her tightly.
After a few moments, I walk her down the hall to her bedroom. Pulling back the comforter on her bed, I guide her to it. I swiftly remove her shoes. She lies down and I crawl in behind her. I hold her while she breaks apart. I hold her for hours after she finally calms down and falls asleep.
Fuck the promise I made all those years ago. This is where I want to be. Need to be. I won’t fail her again.
