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There’s a long, long pause that stretches through the night, carving a cavern between us. In the moonlit sparkle of her eyes, a million words pass unsaid between us. And because verbal expressions aren’t my strength—because the words I want to say are stuck in my throat—my natural instinct is to shut down. Clam up.
But Annie deserves more than that. I can do better—be better—than that.
“I owe you so much,” I say. “An explanation is just one of those things.”
She nods, accepting this. “Okay.”
“Shall we sit?” I nod to some Adirondack chairs nearby, and we take a seat. The evening breeze is cool and crisp, and I shrug off my jacket and hand it to her. She immediately accepts it, which makes me smile.
“So your dad really is difficult,” Annie begins.
I take a deep breath, and then, finally, I let my guard down. Let my control go. And I speak.
“Growing up, I was always trying to impress him. My parents divorced when I was really young, and I didn’t see my dad much. I think, in my head, I built him up to be this awesome guy who’d love me if I just got his attention by being better.” I pull a face. “I was obviously wrong. My mom was constantly fielding his failures so we wouldn’t be disappointed. Drying tears over missed promises, visits, you name it. But for some reason, I still craved my dad’s approval. And one day, it came. When I got my baseball scholarship—a full ride to UCLA. Suddenly, I was the apple of his eye. And, being the idiot I was, I was happy about this,” I finish darkly.
Annie shakes her head, auburn waves blowing in the wind. “It’s perfectly normal to want to feel loved by your parents.”
“Maybe, but I put his approval ahead of other things that mattered. He was happy I was playing college baseball, happy I was majoring in finance. And I thought I was happy, too. I met a girl out there. Had a life. I put myself above my own family here.”
I sigh, exhaling a long breath. “When Lana Mae got pregnant, I wasn’t there for her. I stayed in California. Didn’t even meet Legs until I came home for a week or two the following summer.” My voice is getting heavy, laced with emotion. “That’s when I found out that Mom was sick. Had been for a while. She, as usual, downplayed it. Made everything about me, not her. Encouraged me to go back to college when the summer ended, and I went.”
Annie shifts slightly, moving closer to me, but she doesn’t say a word.
“I was planning to come home for Thanksgiving.” I swallow thickly. “But there was a big training camp, and I ended up choosing to go to the camp.” There are tears in my eyes now, the foreign wetness rimming the edges. “And she died, Annie. She died and I wasn’t there. I missed seeing the person I loved most on earth one last time because I was trying to impress a father who didn’t love me. I’ve never been able to forgive myself.”
I stop talking for a moment to catch my breath. I lost everything that Thanksgiving, and reliving it is physically painful. These feelings, these memories, have been buried deep for so long, and digging them up for the first time makes them fresh and raw again.
Annie’s sitting stock still, eyes fixed on me.
“You must think I’m the worst…” I trail off. And then, her arms are around me. She’s gotten out of her chair so she can crouch in front of me, and her cheek presses against mine as she pulls me close.
“You’re a good person, Liam,” she says fiercely, clutching me tight. “So good. And it’s not your fault, what happened. It was never your fault. None of it.”
“I should have been there.” My voice cracks as I pull back to look at her, shame still coursing through me. “After that, I swore I’d never let my family down again. I quit college, broke up with my girlfriend, and moved home to Atlanta, where I belong.”
“Your family loves you more than words can say,” Annie’s words are thick with emotion. “You’ve given Legs the father figure she didn’t have—the father figureyoudidn’t have. I’ve never come across a man like you in my life. You don’t even realize how incredible you are.”
I exhale slowly, feeling a strange, if a little embarrassed, relief to have finally spoken all of that aloud. All of the junk that I’ve been holding in for so long, trying to control every little thing in my life so that no more bad things happen.
Until Annie came along, and I realized that good things—truly good things—can’t happen either if I don’t occasionally let go and lean into the moment.
And this moment is one I want to lean into with all that I have.
I move closer to her, and her hands tangle in my hair as my arms wrap around her waist. My thumbs trace the curve of her ribcage as I pull her towards me. And then I’m kissing her. Kissing her like my life depends on it. I show her every little detail of the way I feel for her as my mouth moves over hers. She responds, arching her back and returning the kiss. It’s soft, at first.
Then harder.
Her breath goes ragged and I breathe her in, pull her closer as I take my time with her. Our bodies press against each other and I kiss her with wholehearted purpose and intent as I lead the way in this star-soaked moment of pure bliss. Her fingernails scrape my shoulders, her lips are on my neck, my hands are in her hair as my teeth graze a sensitive spot by her ear that makes her shiver.
With every kiss, every caress, every touch and inhale and sigh and sensation, I pour all of my feelings into her, trying to communicate with every fiber of my being that I adore her. That I’d do anything for her.
And when we finally break apart, breathing heavily, skin hot and flushed against the cool night air, I see on her face that she feels the same.
43
ANNIE
I’m on fire.
