Page 88 of Late Nights & Love Lines
“It’s easy to be resilient when the world hasn’t crushed the belief of goodness from your spirit yet,” she says absently.
That’s the truth she’s lived with, and perhaps she doesn’t understand that it’s not normal to be so beaten down by life that you give up before adulthood.
“He asked for you when he woke up from anesthesia. It wasn’t me, or Pappy, or even his mother he wanted, it was you.”
“That’s…” Her brows pinch down. “I don’t know what to say.” The words are barely audible.
“In a very short time, you’ve left a mark on my kids—and on me. That’s not something that happens all the time.”
“Pappy did say I was fated, right?” Her joke falls flat, probably because we’re both starting to believe that maybe he’s been right all along.
“Seren said you promised to stay until we found a nanny she approves of.”
Rowan tugs on her bottom lip, pinching and rolling it between her thumb and forefinger.
“I did, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” She lifts her head, and a multitude of emotions flash in her eyes. There’s a healthy dose of fear, but also something akin to excitement.
Bending my knee to rest on her bed, I angle my body toward her. It brings me within inches of touching her.
“You realize she may never approve of anyone.” That’s my biggest fear. That Rowan’s made a promise she won’t be able to keep and Seren will hate her for it.
She nods for a long time, her gaze going distant as she mulls over my statement.
Then she shrugs. “She likes me though.”
My face breaks into the first smile I’ve had in days. “She does like you.”
The way she lifts her gaze to mine, staring at me through thick lashes as though she’s shy and worried about my response, does unthinkable things to my blood pressure.
“I don’t know how to stay.”
And my smile falls into crushing despair.
“But maybe, if I keep giving you my todays and my tomorrows, you’ll…teach me.”
I’m struggling to understand what she just said because I could have sworn it sounded as though she had no plans to leave at the end of the week.
“I’m going to need you to explain what that means.” She has my full attention, but I’ve lost the ability to control my reactions, and my fingers twitch while I wait.
“I can’t promise forever, it feels too… I don’t know. When I think about that, my palms get sweaty and my vision blurs. Then the walls start closing in on me as if I’m slowly drowning and I can’t break the surface.”
Whiplash would be easier to handle than this conversation.
“Okay,” I say, dragging out the word. Forever with me feels like a slow death, got it.
“And, well, Lottie offered me a dream job, but it would start in September, and now because of you, it’s not really feeling like a dream job.”
I’m trying to follow along, but I can’t tell if she’s coming or going and it’s fucking killing me.
Dropping her face into her hands, she groans. “I’m not explaining myself very well. I don’t know how to do this, Seb. I’ve never cared enough to even try before.”
That little asshole called hope springs anew in my chest.
“You’re saying you care—about us,” I clarify. It’s hard to keep my grin in check, but if we have to walk through this taking baby steps, I’ll hold her hand through every single stage.
“I think I do,” she sobs, as if it’s the worst tragedy sinceRomeo and Juliet.
It’s not nice, but I laugh, and it makes her cry even harder, so I climb onto the bed and pull her into my side.
