Page 147 of The Spider & the Storm

“Stormy,” Chris said before clearing his throat. “We want to apologize.”

My heart suddenly felt lighter at the sincerity in her father's tone. Barbara stood closer to her husband and nodded in agreement.

“We're both sorry,” she said. “It's just always been like this with us. You know we love you—”

“I know,” Stormy replied quietly, dipping her chin to her chest. I held her shoulders tighter.

Barbara inhaled through her nose, the sound shaky, as if she might cry. “We've just never been great at communicating, and we've never been great at accepting that you've …”

She was quiet for a moment, as though struggling to find the words she wanted, when Chris added, “Grown up.”

“Yes,” Barbara said, nodding. “But we want to do better. Wewilldo better.”

When it was clear her parents had nothing left to say, Stormy nodded and replied, “I mean, it's not like I can say I've been all that great at talking to you guys, so …”

“That's on us,” Chris said.

Stormy shrugged. “Honestly, it's probably on all of us.”

“Well then, let's all make a promise to try, okay?” Barbara said, her voice tight with determination and emotion.

Stormy sucked in a deep breath before nodding. “Okay.”

“And we want you to know that weareproud of you,” Chris added quickly, like he'd been waiting to say it.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Even if we don't completely understand—”

“Yeah. I know. You don't have to understand; it's fine.”

Chris reached out cautiously to touch his daughter's hand with his fingertips, almost like he didn't quite know how much was too much. Then, the two of them turned, ready to head back inside. Her mother opened the door, crossed the threshold, but her father hesitated.

“Oh, and, Charlie,” he said, meeting my eye. “I don't know what your story is. I hope you'll tell us one day. But for whatever it's worth, I think it takes a good man to stand up for the people he cares about. And I think your parents would've been really proud of you for that.”

***

We finished getting ready for bed in the guest room that had been Stormy’s childhood bedroom. For the first night in weeks, we didn’t conclude our day with sex. I didn’t initiate, and when she didn't either, I assumed she was just uncomfortable with the idea of her parents’ room being just down the hall.When we cuddled together, her back to my chest, she confirmed as much in different words.

“The last time I had a guy in this house, my mom walked in on us fucking in the bathroom,” she admitted quietly.

I didn't like the idea of her fucking someone else here. Hell, I didn't particularly like the idea of her fucking someone else at all.

“And if that wasn't bad enough, later that night, my dad walked in on us going at it again in here.”

My lips pressed together as a humiliating wave of jealousy steamrolled over me. I had shared a bed with this woman every single night for weeks, and I had been at least somewhat aware of her colorful and relatively promiscuous past. But hearing about it now made me feel disgusting on various levels. I tried to remember that I was a grown man with a past of my own, and it helped to calm the envy a little, but not enough to make me feel any less ashamed.

She must’ve felt my arm stiffen around her middle because she turned into my embrace, pressing her hands against my chest. The room was dark, but I could just make out the outline of her eyes staring up at me.

“I was an idiot back then. I had no respect for myself or my parents, and that guy, he wasn’t any better. I didn’t give a shit about anything other than forgetting about life, and I did whatever I could to get there, usually with drugs, but if I didn’t have drugs, sex and booze worked too.”

My throat worked hard to move around the hardened lump of emotion that had appeared out of nowhere. She reminded me so much of Luke. Almost too much. And sometimes, when she spoke like this, it felt like something—maybe someone—was trying to give me a message. Like maybe, just maybe, I had been put here on this planet to be here for her, the way I couldn’t be there for him.

“But I give a shit now,” she continued, her tone hardened and sincere. She tapped her finger against my chest, just above my hammering heart. “I give a shit aboutus. And I give a shit about what my parents think. I want them to know we’re the real thing and that I’m not just with you because … because your friend can hook you up with some good shit or whatever. And I want them to know that Iamcapable of respecting their house rules, even if I never did in the past. I care too much aboutyouandusto use you as a way to rebel against them. And I just …” She released a breath, long and harsh, like she’d been holding it for a while. “I just wanted you to know that, in case you were wondering why—”

“You don’t need to explain anything to me,” I replied in a whisper, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I know, but at this point, you might expect that I’m just going to put out all the time.” She laughed awkwardly, dipping her chin to avoid my eyes in the dark.

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