thick, soft lashes of her eyes fanned out over her milky complexion and kissed the tops of her cheekbones.
Her lips were naturally pink, parted slightly as she breathed easily. Her body turned toward mine; it always did when I was in bed. Even if I came in late, the second my body hit the mattress, it didn’t matter how she was lying. She turned to me.
Gizmo somehow squirmed between us. She lay stretched out on her back lengthwise against Ivy’s side. Her paws were tucked against her chest and her face was turned into the blankets covering Ivy.
My girls.
Never in a million years did I think when I had two girls in my bed, one of them would be a dog that looked like a gremlin.
Never in a million years did I think I’d ever feel this happy.
But I was.
Things were trying to steal that happiness. Things were preventing me from feeling like my life was completely full.
Even though I tried not to think about seeing my father months ago, I did.
And…
What I didn’t tell Ivy was eating me alive.
The choice I made was the right decision. At least I’d thought so at the time. Now, even as I lay here watching over the reason for which I’d done so many things, doubts haunted me, like the echo of a bird’s song on a clear day.
I couldn’t forgive him for what he’d done. The image of my mother, bloody and bruised, lying in a hospital bed would always be there—like a snapshot of the past that would never fade.
My father was an abuser. He was violent and had no respect for women.
I had no tolerance for men like him who lorded their superior strength over the physically weaker sex.
I realized now those feelings influenced my decision to not tell Ivy what really happened that night with Zach. I decided to carry the abuse she’d suffered within me, tucked right beside the abuse my mother had endured.
I only wanted to protect her from the horrible truth.
But what if my protection was hurting her?
With one last gaze upon her sleeping form, I slid out from under the covers. I picked up a pair of basketball shorts on the end of the bed and stepped into them. My T-shirt was close by, but I didn’t put it on. Instead, I turned it right side out and laid it beside Ivy so she’d have something to reach for when she finally woke up. It wasn’t the shirt she’d basically stolen last spring at the beach. She wore that thing more than I ever did.
But she’d still like this one. I wore it yesterday so it smelled like me. She liked that.
I liked that she liked it.
Gizmo cracked one eye and glanced at me as I moved. I pressed a finger to my lips, and the dog’s eye closed again. I didn’t think she actually understood what I’d done, just that she was too comfortable to move.
The house was silent as I moved downstairs into the open kitchen. This place was spacious and nice. Hell, I thought I’d be thirty-five before I could even think about affording something like this. Even though technically I wasn’t paying the rent, it still came to feel like home. We all pitched in like we said and took care of the utilities. I even cut the grass. It was a pain in the ass, but someone had to do it.
Rimmel and Ivy would probably kill themselves trying to operate a lawnmower.
I worked all summer waiting tables, using my witty personality to charm ladies out of big tips. I managed to save up some, enough to live and not have to work during football season. ‘Course, it helped that I had a football scholarship that paid for school. There was even some money left over every semester that I got to keep, so it was sort of like being paid to play football. It was nothing like what Rome was getting paid, but it was enough.
Mom tried to give me money all the time. I seldom took it. I didn’t want to be her responsibility. She’d shouldered that enough when I was growing up. She was the parent, yes, but I still felt like it was my job to care for her. Sometimes the cash would just show up. She would have the bank transfer it into
Her lips were naturally pink, parted slightly as she breathed easily. Her body turned toward mine; it always did when I was in bed. Even if I came in late, the second my body hit the mattress, it didn’t matter how she was lying. She turned to me.
Gizmo somehow squirmed between us. She lay stretched out on her back lengthwise against Ivy’s side. Her paws were tucked against her chest and her face was turned into the blankets covering Ivy.
My girls.
Never in a million years did I think when I had two girls in my bed, one of them would be a dog that looked like a gremlin.
Never in a million years did I think I’d ever feel this happy.
But I was.
Things were trying to steal that happiness. Things were preventing me from feeling like my life was completely full.
Even though I tried not to think about seeing my father months ago, I did.
And…
What I didn’t tell Ivy was eating me alive.
The choice I made was the right decision. At least I’d thought so at the time. Now, even as I lay here watching over the reason for which I’d done so many things, doubts haunted me, like the echo of a bird’s song on a clear day.
I couldn’t forgive him for what he’d done. The image of my mother, bloody and bruised, lying in a hospital bed would always be there—like a snapshot of the past that would never fade.
My father was an abuser. He was violent and had no respect for women.
I had no tolerance for men like him who lorded their superior strength over the physically weaker sex.
I realized now those feelings influenced my decision to not tell Ivy what really happened that night with Zach. I decided to carry the abuse she’d suffered within me, tucked right beside the abuse my mother had endured.
I only wanted to protect her from the horrible truth.
But what if my protection was hurting her?
With one last gaze upon her sleeping form, I slid out from under the covers. I picked up a pair of basketball shorts on the end of the bed and stepped into them. My T-shirt was close by, but I didn’t put it on. Instead, I turned it right side out and laid it beside Ivy so she’d have something to reach for when she finally woke up. It wasn’t the shirt she’d basically stolen last spring at the beach. She wore that thing more than I ever did.
But she’d still like this one. I wore it yesterday so it smelled like me. She liked that.
I liked that she liked it.
Gizmo cracked one eye and glanced at me as I moved. I pressed a finger to my lips, and the dog’s eye closed again. I didn’t think she actually understood what I’d done, just that she was too comfortable to move.
The house was silent as I moved downstairs into the open kitchen. This place was spacious and nice. Hell, I thought I’d be thirty-five before I could even think about affording something like this. Even though technically I wasn’t paying the rent, it still came to feel like home. We all pitched in like we said and took care of the utilities. I even cut the grass. It was a pain in the ass, but someone had to do it.
Rimmel and Ivy would probably kill themselves trying to operate a lawnmower.
I worked all summer waiting tables, using my witty personality to charm ladies out of big tips. I managed to save up some, enough to live and not have to work during football season. ‘Course, it helped that I had a football scholarship that paid for school. There was even some money left over every semester that I got to keep, so it was sort of like being paid to play football. It was nothing like what Rome was getting paid, but it was enough.
Mom tried to give me money all the time. I seldom took it. I didn’t want to be her responsibility. She’d shouldered that enough when I was growing up. She was the parent, yes, but I still felt like it was my job to care for her. Sometimes the cash would just show up. She would have the bank transfer it into
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