Page 4 of Say You'll Stay


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“Kinda like my mum did?”

“I can’t say I know much about your personal situation, but it’s possible. Anyway, Dad turned his life around and I lived with him until my second year of university, when I moved in with some friends. He’s the absolute best, but he was pretty useless when I was going through puberty. He tried really hard, but there were so many things he just had no idea about.”

“Like what?” Ruby asked, obviously interested.

“Like periods, makeup, fashion, my crushes, buying my first bra. That kind of stuff.” She looked thoughtful, so I added, “Your dad can’t know what’s going on if you don’t tell him though. I know it’s difficult, but sometimes you’ll have to talk to him about things you’d rather not and trust that he’ll be supportive. From what I could tell, it seems like he cares about you a lot.”

“He does.” Her soft smile said a lot about their relationship, and my tummy dipped and swooped again. She turned her hands over on her lap and studied her fingernails. “But there are things I need to talk to him about that I’ve been putting off because of the cringe factor.”

“Such as?” I prompted, hoping she’d trust me enough to open up, but also not knowing if it was my place. I wanted to help, but I didn’t want to get overly wrapped up in Ruby’s issues when it was clear her dad would rather have nothing to do with me.

She shrugged. “What clothes we buy, the fact my hair gets cut by a barber instead of a stylist… It sounds really shallow to bring it up, but I want a nicer haircut, and maybe some color like what you have. But Dad and I never talk about that kind of stuff and I don’t know how to mention it without it being weird.”

I pressed my lips together. Changes like that could be a big deal, and I didn’t want to overstep. “All I can say is that you should tell him how you feel. Even if it’s super awkward, the awkwardness won’t last, and you’ll both be glad you did.”

“Okay.” She straightened and got to her feet. “Thanks, Miss Olson.”

“No problem.” I smiled warmly, pleased she’d felt able to talk to me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” She lifted a hand in farewell and headed out.

I refilled my coffee and returned to planning for the next few days of work, not emerging until there was a knock at the classroom door an hour or so later. I glanced up, then froze, surprised to see Warren Atwater framed in the doorway. My heart pitter-pattered.

No,I told it.You don’t get to have him.

But I wanted him. Badly.

“Hey,” he grunted.

“Hi.” I stacked my hands neatly on the desk and studied him, wondering whether he came in peace. Had Ruby rushed home to speak with him and he’d been upset by my interference? But he didn’t seem angry. On the contrary, he looked…nervous. One of his hands was out of view, but as he walked haltingly forward, I saw he was holding a box of chocolates. My heart leapt with excitement.

“What’s this?” I asked.

He thrust the box toward me, and I scanned the front and set them down. “A thank you and an apology, all in one. I acted like a bit of an ass when I first got here yesterday, but you did me a solid with Ruby, and I wanted to make sure you know I’m grateful for that.”

“Oh.” So, nothing romantic then. Not that I’d expected as much after our previous encounter, but deep down I might have secretly wished for it. “Have you talked to Ruby yet tonight?”

“No. Why?” He sounded suspicious.

I winced. “No reason. Just asking.” I gestured toward the chocolates. “Thanks for these. They’re the closest I’ll come to getting a Valentine’s gift this year.” I’d been purposefully trying to ignore the date, focusing on work so I wouldn’t have to think about all the lucky people out there who were spending tonight with someone they cared for.

One of his eyelids twitched. “It’s not a Valentine’s gift.”

“I know.” I hid a smile. His response should bruise my ego, but his caginess was strangely endearing. “But it’s the only gift I’ve gotten today.”

His lips pursed, and he looked squirrelly. “Don’t read anything into it. I’m grateful, that’s all. This isn’t romantic. You’re my daughter’s teacher, and I’m not interested in dating. Even if I was, you’re too young and—”

“And what?” I asked, mentally daring him to continue, because yeah, now my ego was bruised. I’d been making a stupid joke, and he’d taken it out of context and gotten his underwear twisted up over it. He’d said nothing could happen between us, and I respected that. But my teeth ground together because he clearly thought I wanted to be all over him. Plus, what was the deal with saying I was too young? What, so I was old enough to mess around with but not date? That was some bullshit logic.

“Aaaand I should get going.” He dragged a hand down his face and sighed. “I can’t seem to get anything right. I’m sorry if I offended you, but what I said yesterday still stands.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Do you see me asking you to change your mind?”

“No,” he conceded.

“I didn’t think so.” I looked at my computer, effectively dismissing him. “Have a nice night, Mr. Atwater.”

As he left, I couldn’t help but wonder which was the real Warren. The passionate man I’d met in Wellington? The doting single father? Or the iceberg who consistently pushed me away?

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