Page 57 of Falling for You
My question brings on a new round of sobs until I’m enveloped in a mass of arms coming from everywhere.
I know my girls are here with us.
Willow is kneeling on the floor in front of me, “Babes, I love you so much. But you can’t blame yourself for Olivia. This isnothingthat you did. Nothing.”
“If I didn’t want a night out, if I didn’t want to see your show, if I wasn’t busy trying to figure out what the hell was going on with Rome, she’d still be home, Will. She’d still be in her little crib having a nap right now. She wouldn’t be at her grandparents house, and Rome wouldn’t be having to fight for his own damn daughter. I can’t keep his babies safe.”
I sink back into the couch with my arms fallen by my side. My eyes hurt. They’re swelling, and heavy, and I’m so fucking tired.
“You stop it. Stop. Right now.” Violet shocks all of us with her tone. “I will not sit here and listen to you blame yourself for either one of these babies. And Olivia is not gone. She’s not. You, Emma Keaton, are a badass bitch. You don’t let people walk over you and get their way. So you’re going to be sad today. Then tomorrow, we’re going to help you kick some ass, and remind you what a bad bitch you are, and thatno onemesses with a Keaton.”
Mom, Will and I stare at her.
“Was that too much?” She starts to shrink back into herself.
“No, sweet Violet. No, it was not.” Mom grins over my head, reassuring Violet that she didn’t do anything wrong.
“You’re right. But today I’m really fucking sad and I want to go home.” I hiccup from all the crying.
“Okay, I’ll get your dad to go upstairs and set a room up for you.”
“No, Mom. I want to go home with Rome. I need to go home with Rome.” I plead with her.
“Okay. I’ll go get him.” She stands, giving me a sad smile.
Willow and Violet each give me a squeeze.
“Remember you’re a bad bitch,nota sad bitch.” I offer Violet a weak smile.
I gave her the same line after her mom’s last visit where she pointed out all the things Violet isn’t doingproperly.
They pass Rome on the way out the door, each giving him a little squeeze too.
He stands in the doorway, unsure of himself. He’s got his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his shorts and he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet.
“Hey. I was told you want to go home?”
“Is everyone in the kitchen?” I just want to leave in peace, I don’t want to talk anymore.
“Yes. The living room should be clear.” He walks past me, toward the other door that leads out to the living room.
Opening the door, he peeks his head out. “All clear.”
I go to stand, but he scoops me up first. Carrying me out the same way he carried me in.
I relax in his arms, my muscles are so tired, and tense, my head is throbbing and the bright sun hurts my eyes as we walk to the truck.
He gingerly places me in the truck.
“I’m so sorry, Sunshine.” His voice cracks, and he places a kiss on my cheek.
Bringing my hand up to his face, I place my palm on his cheek.
“Bring me home, Stud.”
When we get home, the tears started again for both of us.
We still haven’t spoken, just sitting together, holding hands and crying in the cab of his truck.
