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As a result, I finish about forty minutes later, feeling less refreshed and more like a soldier out of war.
I’m glad the clothes she gave me are a dress and some cotton undies. Surprisingly, they fit. The dress is white and loose with a fashionable cut in the collar and barely reaches the middle of my thighs. Definitely too short for my preferred length.
The scent of vanilla envelops me as soon as I put them on, and I step out of the bathroom without bothering to dry my hair.
Martha stands there with her hands clasped above each other.
“Are these…Gwen’s?”
“Yes. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
My heart squeezes, and even though I have to tug on the dress to make it cover more than my butt, I don’t consider removing it.
It might sound creepy, but I want to smell her close, even if it’s like this.
All of a sudden, I miss her so much.
Or maybe it’s not sudden at all. Even when I thought she’d died, I still missed her with every fiber of my being.
In the nightmare I had a while ago, my father was coming to kill me and all I could think about was that I’d abandon her again.
I mean, yes, she’s older now, married, and probably doesn’t need a mother, but I need her.
I always have.
The memory of her is what’s kept me going for decades. Ever since I ran away from home and carved my own path like a rolling stone.
“Would you like to see her room?” Martha asks.
“You mean Gwen’s?”
“Yes. She took almost everything she considers valuable, but there are a few of her belongings around if you want to look around.”
“I would love that.”
Though I hate to have Kingsley fire the woman for it, I wouldn’t miss the chance to take a tour in the place my daughter called home.
Martha delivers a speech that’s worthy of a real estate mogul as she shows me around first. She breezes past Kingsley’s room and office, though. Not even bothering to open their doors.
Then she motions at Gwen’s room. “You can stay here as long as you like. I have to prepare dinner.”
I thank her and she nods, going about her chores.
My greedy eyes take in the princess-like decor. The lace comforter on the bed, the muslin curtain that surrounds it. The wallpaper with vanilla orchids, no surprise there.
In fact, her entire room is vanilla-themed, from the carpet to the doors of her walk-in closet, even the desk and the multi-colored pens.
She’s definitely more girly than I’ve ever been—not sure who she takes after. Not me or her father, that’s for sure.
Probably Caroline. She rubbed her stupid fluffy energy on me before I even found out I was pregnant.
I sit on the bed, running my hand over the sheet, then I spot a framed picture on her bedside table.
It was taken on her high school graduation day, judging by the clothes and the hat.
Kingsley is holding her up by the waist in the air as if she’s flying and Gwen is laughing uncontrollably.
They look at each other with so much love that it cuts me in two. At that point, I’d already met her and categorized her as the asshole’s daughter.
