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Winston smells the same. Like the contraband cigars he pretends he doesn’t smoke anymore and the sameOld Spiceaftershave he’s used for as long as I can remember.
He’s crying and saying my name, over and over.
I’m crying but speechless.
“Catherine?”
We both freeze as my father’s stunned voice slices through the moment.
Winston releases me and dabs gently at his eyes. With a dainty sniff, he says, “I’ll just go put on some tea,” and, with one final choked sob, turns and leaves us there. My dad, Aiden, and me.
I tug the sleeves of my dress down over my wrists, severely self-conscious of the ugly scars artfully hiddenby my clothing. They itch just then. As if they want to be aired out with my past. “Hi, Dad.” I am the first to speak. “I…”
I don’t know how to begin. I don’t know how to tell my father about the terrible things I’ve done and had done to me. I don’t know how to tell him about Toni, about everything that happened, and for a small moment I wish she were here with me because she’d know what to say.
When tears fill my eyes, I grit my jaw.
Aiden, sensing that I’m floundering just then, wraps his arms around my waist from behind. I lean into his chest, drawing from his warmth and strength, and I say, “I’m home.”
But I don’t watch my father’s face to see his reaction.
I turn and look up at Aiden, knowing that home is something different from what I’d always imagined for this moment.
The End
