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My chair creaked as I slumped against it. The small, sad, hurt child inside me wanted to keep pushing, keep arguing, but the sincerity in his voice made me bite my tongue. Whatever his reasons for leaving, he clearly wasn’t ready to share them. I was used to this kind of withholding from my mother. I’d hoped my father would be more forthcoming.
No such luck.
Either way, I had a choice to make. I could hold tight to my anger and buy myself a bus ticket back to Keene, closing the door on this man and his role in my life forever. Or I could accept his apology now in the hopes that he’d open up eventually.
I was determined to get answers one way or another, and I suspected I could learn a lot about this man just from living with him and working in his studio.
“I’ll stay with you,” I said. “But forgiving you is going to take some time.”
His mouth curved into another pulse-fluttering smile. “I understand. I’m willing to wait as long as it takes.”
Chapter Three
My father owned two adjacent lofts on the top floor of a building in Midtown. We took the elevator up and then stepped out into a white-walled corridor with adjacent double doors. He unlocked one of the doors and motioned for me to enter.
“My studio is across the hall,” he said. “I have some work to do in there later today. Think you can keep yourself busy for a few hours?”
I twirled in a circle, face turned up toward the exposed beams and copper piping. The space was massive. “I’m sure I’ll manage,” I said, squinting against the natural light streaming in through the wall of windows. “So, this is how the other half lives.”
“This is how you live now.” He took my bag from me and slung it over his shoulder. “Come check out your room.”
I followed him upstairs to a nice-sized bedroom with brick walls and more natural light. He set my bag on the bed and then showed me how to operate the electronic curtains in case I didn’t want to wake up with the dawn.
“Bathroom’s down the hall,” he said, “first door on your left. My room’s just past that. Towels are in the closet at the end of the hall. Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”
I sat down on the bed and scanned the room, eyeing the potted ferns on the windowsill, the squat ficus beside the bed. Linens in turquoise and violet; he’d remembered the color palette in my bedroom at the old house. It made me smile. I stood as he turned to go.
“Dad?”
He paused in the doorway.
“Thanks for lunch,” I said.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
The epithet wrapped itself around my chest like ribbon. I took a tentative step toward him and opened my hands. “Can I have a hug?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Of course.”
He wrapped his arms around me, cupping the back of my head with his palm. I pressed my nose to his throat. He smelled good, like pine and clove and peppermint, just like I remembered.
“I’ve missed you, too,” he said into my hair.
I couldn’t help chuckling. I angled my mouth toward his cheek, intending to give him a quick peck. He must’ve had the same idea, because when I turned my face, our lips met.
His stubble tickled my chin. I closed my eyes and let my fingers curl around his shirt collar. Time held its breath. It was impossible to tell who’d initiated the kiss, but neither of us moved to end it.
The heat from his hand seeped into my scalp as his breath streamed down from his nose. Every inch of my skin tingled as tension gathered in my stomach, sliding low, then lower…
A voice inside my head shouted, Stop. This was a misfire, bad wiring, mistaken identity, not desire. My thoughts ran a race against my pulse, trying to make sense of my misplaced pleasure.
I drew back. His eyes snapped open, taking in my burning cheeks and confused expression. My chest rose and fell. Lots of parents kiss their children on the lips, I told myself. It wasn’t inherently sexual. So, then why was my body reacting as if I’d just kissed a lover?
Mortified, I let my feet carry me back to the bed where I forced my hands to start unpacking.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know how… It was an accident.” When I could no longer stand the heat of his stare on my back, I spun to face him. “Would you please say some?—”
He’d already left the room.
