Page 89 of Unravel Me
The murmured, broken words snap the last of my resolve. I sink to my knees, right there before her, and as the dam breaks and those tears pour down her face like rain, I sweep her into my arms, clinging to her just as much as she’s clinging to me.
* * *
I can’t take my eyes off her, the way she’s snuggled up beneath the quickly fading sun and a warm blanket, my dog curled up at her side, refusing to leave her. I don’t blame him. She’s different tonight, and she has been since I loaded her into my truck, ditched our dinner plans to pick up her favorite takeout instead. She’s quiet and distant, and the silence is ear-splitting and painful in an earth-shattering way.
My world isn’t right without her laughter.
Stepping through the patio door, I make my way to her, replacing her wine glass with a mug of her favorite blueberry tea. She takes it with a small smile, red-rimmed eyes peering up at me, and when I sit beside her, she wastes no time folding herself into my side.
Squeezing her to me, I kiss her head. “I think you belong right here.”
“With you?” she asks, chin on my chest.
“Where else?”
She lays her cheek over my heart, her words soft. “I’ve wanted to belong to someone for a long time. So long, I’m not sure my brain will let me believe it now.”
“I’m a patient man. I don’t mind needing to prove it to you every day.”
Rosie smiles, and for the next few minutes, we sit in the peace of the evening, the quiet breeze rustling through the trees, the buzz of the cicadas, the fading song of the birds settling in for the night.
And then Rosie tells me her story.
“I woke up in the middle of the night to my mom screaming my name. My bedroom door was closed, but it felt so warm in there. I remember the glow coming from beneath the crack in my door.” A tear slides down her cheek. “I just thought the hallway lights were on.”
I pull her tighter against me, rub her back while I listen.
“My mom kept screaming, telling my dad to get me. It made me scared, and I started crying, calling for my parents. Then my dad came into my room. He knelt next to my bed, told me to wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. And he told me to close my eyes.” Rosie’s eyes find mine, shining with tears beneath the light of the moon. “I listened. I always listened to my dad.”
“Such a good girl,” I murmur, swiping the tears from her eyes before they can fall.
“Even with my eyes closed, I knew. I could hear it. Feel it. My dad held me so tight, he left bruises. It was so cool when he ran outside. It was September, and the weather had started turning. It felt like such a relief to be outside, but I could feel the heat at my back as my dad kept me turned away from the house.”
Rosie looks up to the sky, pulling in a shaky breath. When she releases it, her tears spill down her cheeks. “‘Stay right here,’ Dad told me. ‘Don’t move. Wait for help.’ He told me he had to go, that he had to get my mom. I asked him if he was coming back, and he looked at me for a minute before he promised he would. ‘Right back,’ he said. ‘I promise, I’ll never leave you.’” Her eyes flutter closed, and she sits in the moment, the memory, while I kiss her forehead, smooth back her hair from her wet cheeks. “I knew he was lying. He wasn’t coming back, and he knew it too. He kissed me, hugged me so…sotight. Tucked my hair behind my ear and told me he was proud of me. And right before he disappeared inside the house, he looked at me one last time over his shoulder and told me he loved me for the last time.”
My chest pulls tight, I feel like it’s breaking wide open as Rosie buries her face in my neck and cries for the parents she lost, the good-bye she should have never had to say, not at eleven years old. I press my lips to her shoulder, over and over, any words that might make this better completely lost to me. Is there a better? I really don’t know, but I don’t want her to feel alone.
“He was only inside for a minute when it happened. I could hear the fire trucks close by. But suddenly there was a loud crash, and every window shattered. The front door blew open, and flames spilled out. I screamed, ran through the gate to the backyard just as the trucks pulled up. Right in time for the back door to explode,” she adds on a whisper. “It scared me, and I tripped. Over my own two feet. Fell backward, right into our pool. The sun cover was on, and I got tangled in it. I started sinking, and I couldn’t get free. I couldn’t find my way out. I thought that was it, Adam. I thought I was dying, and I just wanted to be with my parents.” Rosie swipes at her eyes with the back of her wrists, sniffling. “The next thing I remember, I was lying on our back deck, and a firefighter was giving me CPR. It was already too late for my parents.”
“Ah fuck, Rosie.” I pull her onto my lap, wrapping her around me, feeling her against me. She’s here and she’s solid, but the race of my heart reminds me how close I came to losing her, to never knowing her, and the thought is staggering.
“Hey,” she whispers, cupping my face, bringing my gaze to hers. “I’m right here. I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry,” I try, but it’s hoarse, broken. The two words aren’t enough, but they’re all I have. Closing my eyes, I rest my forehead against hers while I get my bearings. I tuck her hair behind her ears, staring into the sweetest green eyes that hold so much love, compassion, strength, unending grief. “I don’t think he was lying, Rosie. Your dad. I know it feels that way. But he told you he’d never leave you because he never will. You can’t see him, I know, but he’s there. Your mom too.”
“I know that; really, I do. But I was alone. So many times I wished I’d gone with them, because I was left with no one. I was all on my own, and I was only eleven.”
“What do you mean you were all alone? You had other family, right? Someone who took you in?”
She looks at me for a long moment, letting my mind work, and I know before she tells me. “I went into the foster system, Adam. Group foster. Just like you.”
There’s a tiny part of me, this small little boy who wants to jump for joy at a connection we share, but I know. I know by the lonely look that lives in the corner of her eyes, the longing that’s always there. “Our experiences were very different, weren’t they?”
She nods, a sad smile on her face. “I aged out. I sat there alone, year after year, wanting nothing more than to be chosen. I wanted my family back. I wanted any family. I just wanted to belong, to feel safe, to feel wanted. And I—” She sniffles, catching a tear the moment it drips from her eye. “I didn’t understand why nobody wanted me. I was such a good kid. I was always kind and respectful. I loved school and was an A-plus student. Nobody wanted me, Adam. And still…”
“What do you mean, ‘still?’” I grip her chin when she turns away, forcing her gaze back to mine. “What do you mean, ‘still,’ Rosie?”
She sniffs, nibbling her lower lip. “I overheard Brandon today when I dropped Connor off. His friends were over, and he said…he said he would’ve never chosen to have a child with me. That I was just supposed to be temporary fun, but he was stuck with me now.”
