Page 13 of Her Cowboy Prince Charming

“Right. But I’m still here,” he said.

“But you weren’t. Not for me. And what you saw last night... That was me trying to move on. That was me trying... I was trying. I was trying this. I was trying to be better. To be easier. I was trying to put all that behind me. To lose my virginity. But it wasn’t with a stranger. It was with you. And you know how relieved I was, when I walked into that room? I saw a man standing up against the wall, and I wanted him. And I just thought...” Suddenly, her whole face went red again.

“You just thought what, kiddo?”

“I just thought that maybe you didn’t own my desire. I thought that maybe I could just want another man, and the reason I wanted you so much for so long was that you were there. You were around. That was it. But no. You, Damien Prince, were it. You were him. So now I’m back to square one. Well, I’m probably on square two. But it is still way closer to the beginning than I wanted to be. I wanted to vanquish my demons. But all I managed to vanquish was my hymen.”

He winced. “Sorry about that,” he said.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m not. I knew what I was doing.”

“Did you? Because it seems like here we are in the middle of a whole lot of unintended consequences. And I didn’t get the feeling that was the idea of this whole thing.”

“Well. Maybe not. Maybe not... But I...”

And suddenly, she was far too close to him. Smelling like lavender he suspected came from laundry detergent, and her skin, which he had never taken note of the smell of before, but now that it had been under his hands, under his mouth, he had opinions about it. And it was just there. So apparent.

“Let’s look for the decorations,” she mumbled, moving past him and rummaging around.

He saw two boxes. One labeledMemories. Another labeledTrauma. And there were sharp-toothed monsters drawn on it.

“Who’s responsible for that?” he asked.

“I think it was Camilla,” she said. “But I would not be surprised if Dylan had some involvement in that, too.”

“And what’s in it?”

“Like life insurance stuff? Medical records. Just all the shit that we kept because it was necessary to document certain things. But all related to the losses. So...”

“Got it.”

“Like you said. If you can’t laugh about it...”

“What’s in the memories?”

“Family photos. Some other things. I don’t look at them very often.”

“Right.”

“It really could all be labeled trauma. Let’s be honest.”

“It’s tough.” He shrugged. “Not that I’m comparing. You were kids. It’s different.”

She looked thoughtful for a second, and then moved quickly to the next stack of boxes, twisting and turning them to check the labels. “I don’t know that it is. We might need different things from our parents at different ages. But let’s face it. We need them. Loss is loss.”

“That’s true.”

“I’ve lost both of my parents.”

“Hey. I managed to lose my dad before I ever found him.”

“Right. Well. I guess what can you do but laugh about that, too?”

“That’s fine with me. I don’t give a shit about my dad. He never wanted me. He didn’t take care of us. He doesn’t matter.”

He felt a fierce regret at the center of his chest.

If he had his dad, he wouldn’t be alone right now. So there was that.

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