Page 23 of Twi-Flight
He’s quiet for a long moment and I take that as all the permission I need to explain.
“My dad was a drunk. An alcoholic. I should have stayed. I should have reached out. But he was just so angry…not violent, just—volatile, mean, insulting. When I was a teenager I didn’t know how to deal with him. So I stopped visiting, stopped calling. I avoided him almost completely.”
“You were just a kid.”
“Yeah, but I could have done something.” I protest. “Eventually I tried to contact him, but he wouldn’t answer my calls. When I heard about his death I hadn’t spoken to him in almost a decade.”
“That isn’t your fault.”
“It’s partially my fault. I should have visited. I could have come to make sure he was okay, taken care of. But I didn’t. I didn’t realize what was coming—I didn’t know it’d gotten so bad…” I stop talking when I feel a cry choking its way up my throat.
“You couldn’t have known.” Eggward squeezes me. I can tell it’s supposed to be reassuring.
I swallow down the tears I feel forming. “No. But I could have been here for him.”
“You’re here now.” His fingers trace a path along my shoulder.
“Little help I’ve been. I could barely stand to set foot in here.” I push myself halfway up on the bed so I can see his face. “I love this house. I love all the work you put into it. But I don’t think I deserve to stay here.”
His hand lifts to comb my hair gently from my face. “You don’t want to live here?”
“Oh course Iwantto live here!” I blurt a little too quickly before pulling my knee up to my chest.
“Then stay here. With me.” His hand continues tracing little paths along my shoulder. “Move in with me. Help me finish the renovations.”
I feel the tears trying to make their way back up. “Are you sure you want me?”
“As long as you want me.” He says quietly.
The following week brings a lot of changes. I finally vacate Lucy’s couch and move my things into the old house. With the water and the electricity running it’s becoming a lovely sweet home. I can also help Eggward with the updates. He technically doesn’t move in with me, although all of our evenings are spent together, usually in bed.
“This looks great.” Eggward admires the new light fixture I installed, his familiar hand resting at my waist.
“I did it while you were out this morning!” I exclaim. “I can’t believe I installed it myself!”
“I can,” he presses a kiss to my shoulder. There’s such reverence in his eyes, complete confidence in his voice.
I lean in, drunk on affection and press a sloppy kiss to his mouth. It’s long, slow, passionate, he’s maneuvering me onto therecently installed kitchen counter and pushing himself between my thighs.
Finally he pulls back, his head cocking to the side.
“Eggward, I need to tell you something.” The words fall out of my mouth before I can think.
His eyes go wide and his attention focuses back on me, he’s holding up a single finger like I should be quiet.
This time I hear it too. A cluttering ruckus in the barn. Eggward’s head swivels toward the sound. Something is wrong.
“Shit. Wait here,” Eggward insists. Moving from between my legs.
He’s flying out the front door.
It takes me a moment to catch my breath, but then I’m on my feet following him. If there’s something terrorizing the chickens I’m not letting him face it alone. He’s already far ahead of me, opening the barn door.
“It seems empty,” Eggward says as I finally reach verbal communication distance. “I’m going to check around back.”
I’m nodding breathless as he disappears around the corner.
There’s a thud behind me, that’s when I notice the light in the office is on. I know I turned it off. There’s a familiar irritated clucking.
