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She came back. She's here because she wants to be, needs to be, and needs me the way I need her. The way I need oxygen to continue breathing, the way the sky needs the stars, and the flowers need rain. Without thought, she walks into my waiting arms, crawling onto my lap. My vision is still blurry, but I can’t mistake that she’s still wearing dress clothes. “Long day?” I whisper, sliding a hand over her leg, then up her back.
“The longest on record.” She sighs.
“Is everything alright?” I ask, stroking her back.
“Better now.” She buries her face in my neck, and I close my eyes, welcoming the sense of peace that washes over me. She's here. I'm holding her; this is real. She came back to me.
A string of silent moments passes before she lifts her head again, looking at me, looking through me like only she can. My heart's so full I don't know what to do. I don't know what to think. There's no way she could comprehend the hold she has over me. The power.
I can't go another second without kissing her. She tastes like coming home. Her full lips part willingly, easily, but I go slow. Savoring. I was so sure she would turn against me. I didn't know until now how confident I was. Every kiss is rain on parched desert earth, and I take one after another, helpless in the face of my need for her.
“Hold on.” She shakes her head a little, turning her face away. “We need to talk.”
“Okay?”
“I know you told my dad. About us.”
Damn it. I should have known it wouldn't be that easy. I was always going to have to fess up, and it only makes sense that now would be the time. “I did, and I’m sorry. It came out before I could stop it.”
“Did you ever think that maybe you should warn me first? Give me a heads-up? So I would know what to expect from him?”
“It’s complicated. I wasn’t trying to keep it from you.” It still is—more than ever. The memory stick is still inserted into the drive, a reminder of the invisible barrier between us. A barrier only I can break down by finding and killing the bastard who took her mother away from her.
“Everything is complicated. All the time. I can't remember the last time something wasn't complicated.” She frowns. “But it would have been nice to know ahead of time. Talking to him is like trying to talk someone off a cliff's edge sometimes. He’s irrational at best and even more so regarding me.”
“I'm sorry. Really, I am.”
“I thought we said we’d be honest with each other going forward.”
She has no idea what honesty looks like. What opening that box would do to her. The impact it would have on both of us. I want to give her that, but selfishly I don’t because that might mean losing her. “Bianca... I didn't want to hurt you, and that's the truth. When he showed up, he was in bad shape. I figured he wouldn't want you to know.”
Her brows draw together, and she sighs. “I know. You couldn't tell me he knew about us without divulging the situation. I get it. It just honestly bothers me when I’m the last to know something.”
Her soft, silky hair slides through my fingers when I tuck it behind her ear. “I'm sorry for making you feel that way. The whole time you've been gone today, I cursed myself for not coming clean with you.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” She assures me with a tentative smile.
Stroking her cheek, I ask, “What happened? Did he give you shit? Threaten to kill me?”
“Surprisingly, no. He's unhappy, but he didn't blow up as I expected.”
“I'm… I’m glad he didn’t lose his shit.”
“Why did you tell him?” She bites her lip, an unknown emotion lingering in her eyes. “Did you do it to hurt him?”
“Absolutely not. At first, I thought he knew, and that’s why he was here. I blurted it out before I realized he didn't know. He only wanted you to stay away from Tatum, and me, by extension. It was too late when I realized we were talking about two different things.”
“Shit, this is a mess.” She studies one of my shirt buttons, staring at it so intensely I would think she's never seen one before. “Is it true… what you told him? That you love me?”
“It's true. I did say that.”
Her head snaps up, her blue eyes piercing mine. “Did you mean it?”
The hope shining in her eyes is an arrow going straight through my chest. “I don't say things I don't mean. And if you actually have to ask me that, I haven't done a very good job of showing you how I feel.”
She blinks as if she’s confused. “You’ve done a pretty poor job of it lately, now that you mention it.”
