Ten minutes.
Ten minutes until my graduation and I’m nervous as hell.
My heels slap against the gravel as I pace up and down outside my school, where it’s inundated with students, parents, and teachers. Crowds of burgundy graduation gowns walk down, eager graduation day is finally here and for the ceremony to begin. It shouldn’t make me feel this type of way, but seeing the wide, joyous smiles on parents’ faces… squeezes my heart for all the wrong reasons.
Tucking my graduation cap under my arm, I pull up my father’s last text.
DAD: Once again, I’m so sorry. I feel so bad. I know what this means to you, and I should be there. I promise I’ll make this up to you and be there for you more. Just know that I love you so much and kill it up on that stage! I’m so proud of you and so glad to call you my daughter, Paisley. I really am.
I’ll make it up to you. I’ve heard that before, one too many times. But I need to give my father the benefit of the doubt. His job is strenuous and although rewarding, he sacrifices a lot too, working hard and exhaustingly long hours not only saving lives, but to keep our little family afloat for eighteen years as a single dad. I love him so much and he’s the only family I truly have too. And even though it breaks my heart, of course I forgive him. This is his job. His patients need him.
Slipping my phone into my purse, I cast a glance and freeze at the sight of Erik about to step through the gates. While the black eye Saint gave him has faded and some cuts to his face have healed, others are still here… scars. Erik slows in his step the second he sees me and gulps down thickly as his parents slow behind him too. They’re looking at him all confused, probably wondering why he stopped. But unlike other times I’ve seen Erik, the smugness in his stare is gone, replaced with something more genuine and emotive.
I flash him a small, encouraging smile, and relief ripples through me when he slowly smiles back and nods before continuing his walk into the hall with his head low. God. I’m proud of myself. I’ve never been that calm and strong in my life. Never looked a former bully in the eye without my heart beating wildly in my chest. But that all changes today. I’m a different woman. A better woman. One who doesn’t let people drag them down.
Graduation is getting closer.
Sucking in a deep breath, I tell myself I can do this.
You’ve got this, Paisley.
I spin on my heels with the intention of stepping through the gates when I come to a sudden halt at what I see, or rather who I see.
Oh.
My.
Dear.
God.
My jaw drops at the sight of the man striding toward me. Dressed in an elegant suit… a black luxurious blazer, a crisp white dress shirt with a dark gray paisley pattern tie, slacks, and shiny dark Italian leather shoes… Saint’s potent ocean eyes burn straight through me in the best kind of way.
Saint looks so different but equally handsome and beautiful with his sexy suit and all his tattoos covered up. I can’t help but tear up at his slow, sexy smile as he rakes his fingers through his perfectly tousled hair and stands in front of me. It’s as if this sight is part of the outtakes of a GQ magazine shoot, only I don’t feel worthy of being the lens.
I can’t believe it!
He’s here. Saint’s here.
Out of all the people in the world, Saint showed up.
“What a surprise! How did you get here?”
“By car.” He smirks mid-grin; long dimples and all. “You know I wouldn’t miss this for the world!”
“Oh my. I honestly cannot believe it! You don’t know how happy I am right now!”
Saint is definitely the type of alpha male people notice and double take whenever they walk by, and that’s exactly what a few of the students (and their mothers) do right now. I love the feeling of knowing he’s all mine as his musky sandalwood cologne engulfs me in a world of him when he closes in and pulls me into a tight, secure embrace.
Shutting my eyes, I wrap my arms around Saint and rest my head by his chest, letting my body enjoy every single second. His warmth restores that missing piece inside me. With one action alone, Saint finds a way to make everything right. It has me letting go of the tension in my shoulders, of my rapidly beating heart, of the preoccupation floating in my mind. I feel so calm wrapped in him. I feel… free.
The widest smile grows on my lips when he kisses my cheek and whispers in my ear, “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” I feel my cheeks heat. “You look pretty handsome yourself. I didn’t think you even owned a suit with all the leather jackets you have.”
Saint smirks. “I’m Italian. Of course I own a suit. Besides, I don’t wear a lot of leather anyway.”
“Ha! Is that supposed to be a joke? You own a Harley Davidson. You wear leather, Saint. You should sponsor Saint Laurent. How does it feel like having your initials on a jacket when it doesn’t even stand for your name?”
“Well, shittt, when did this become a Saint Lisconti roast and why didn’t I get the memo?”
We laugh.
“Congratulations in advance, wildflower,” Saint murmurs, still holding on to me. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you, Saint. I couldn’t have done it without your encouragement and support.”
“Bullshit, this is all you. Own your success, bella.”
“Thank you. Does my father know you’re here?”
Saint shakes his head.
I nod. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him anything.”
My father wouldn’t understand. He wouldn’t see it like Saint supporting me. He would see straight through my flushed cheeks.
“By the way,” I add, slowly gliding my finger up his tie. “I like this. Very clever.”
Saint chuckles. We’re so close it vibrates through his chest and into me. “Ohhh, you noticed, huh?”
“Mhmm, it’s a paisley tie.”
“Wore it for you.”
The smile on my lips extends. “That makes me feel special.”
“You should. You are.”
I cannot describe the full extent to how much hearing his heart synchronize with my beats comforts me. Once again, Saint has found a way to rescue me. I want to freeze in time the idyllic feeling of his warm touch being so close forever and the beautiful scent of him with a hint of tobacco I’ve grown to love.
Glancing to my side, a few people are staring over at us with unreadable expressions.
“Umm, Saint, everybody is watching us…”
“Let them fucking watch. I’m proud of my girl.”
“Your girl?” I tease, welcoming the warmth that spreads across my chest. “I’m your girl now, hmm?”
Saint’s eyes darken as they lower, meeting mine, and he grins. “Do you prefer my crazy next-door neighbor?”
“Definitely not.” I laugh.
“Thought so.” A sexy, lopsided smirk appears. “Now, you don’t worry about a thing. Don’t worry about who’s here and who isn’t. Right now, it’s your time to shine. This is your time. So, be proud of yourself for how far you’ve come. You’ve got this, Paisley.”
I pull back from the embrace, grinning. “Thank you, Saint. You’re coming in, right?”
“Of course. Seeing you in your nerdy element with a graduation gown and cap that make you look like you’re ready to defeat and conquer whatever the hell you like? Fuck yeah. Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Smirking, I narrow my gaze. “You went to Stanford and you’re calling me nerdy?”
“Shh, don’t rat me out. Come on, let’s get this cap on you.”
Saint takes my graduation cap, and we never break eye contact as he fits it on top of my head, the golden tassel on the right side of the cap. Once he’s satisfied, he steps back to observe his work with a curt nod, obviously impressed with himself.
“Perfect, now get your ass in there.”
I nod, flashing him my brightest smile, and turn to the hall. Just as I’m about to step toward it, I turn back to Saint—the tall, mysterious tattooed bad boy who could be anywhere he’d like to be right now—instead, he’s here… with me.
“Saint?”
He slips his hands into his slacks pockets. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for being here. It really means a lot to me.”
Saint steps closer and presses his lips to just above the corner of my mouth, only inches away from my lips, and gives me a soft, warm peck. My entire body bursts with sparks. The second he pulls back, those deep dimples come to play, curved beneath his stubble. He winks at me and that’s all it takes for the blush to deepen on my cheeks.
I spin on my heels, feeling the first hot tear roll down my cheek, but it’s a mixture of sadness that my family isn’t sharing this memory with me and relief that Saint is here. He’s forbidden. Older. Sexy. He’s the one man I can never have, but right now I can’t help but imagine what it would feel like to be loved by him. If being wrapped in his arms feels like heaven, what would it feel like to have his lips on mine and to never let go?
Whatever that feeling may be… I want it.
I want him.
Since Nana June passed, I never knew what this day would look like for me. Deep down, I was convinced my dad would be here. That my mom would magically show even though I wouldn’t even recognize her considering my father deleted and ripped every single photo he ever had with her in a fit of rage when I was little.
But it’s okay. It’s okay because my heart feels full with my nana—my guardian angel—looking down on me from above and with the incredible Italian man behind me, who makes me feel so strong.
Saint Lisconti may never know how much him being here today truly means to me, but I’ll never forget this day or the reason my heart skips an extra beat whenever he’s around…
Never.
“Okay… it wasn’t that funny!”
“Wasn’t that funny?” Saint laughs, throwing back his head against the leather headrest of his stunning Maserati. “You basically tripped up the stairs to get your diploma and then stared down at your principal’s hand when he wanted to shake yours as if he had an electric buzzer in it.”
I groan, yet I can’t help the smile crawling up my lips. “Well, I did say I wanted to go out with a bang… I just didn’t anticipate it being banging my ass on the stage.”
When graduation ended, Saint offered to take me home. I didn’t want to cause any inconveniences for him, knowing he must have skipped some work to attend, especially because I was more than happy to go home with an UBER, just like how I arrived here, but he insisted.
This car smells like him.
Everything smells like him.
“Ahhh, high school, the good old days.”
“Anything happen at your graduation that I can make you not live down too? You said there was in your text earlier today. It’s a shame my father didn’t know you back then. For sure a story or two would have spilled out if he had.”
Saint shakes his head, just one hand on the wheel as he glances at me. Grinning, he chuckles at my statement. “Nah, ah, ah, those days are locked down in the vault. Never coming out, Pais.”
Oh, I see how this is.
I arch a playful brow. “Hmmm, so something did happen?”
“Maybe…” His dimples deepen as he turns back to the road. “All right, fine, you win. So, I was up there on stage and my principal was about to say my name. Weeks before, my nonna said to me I had to wear her Italian flag broch on my graduation gown. She wears it everywhere and it brings her good luck, so she wanted me to pin it to the gown and wear it so I was blessed or some shit.”
“Don’t tell me you forget to wear it.”
“You’re damn right I forgot and all of a sudden I see my nonna running up the stage stairs in the middle of the ceremony, get it from my pocket under my gown, and put it on me. The whole school was laughing at me because she was slicking back my hair, making sure I looked even more presentable in her eyes before proceeding to say the Hail Mary in Italian. Then, she gave me a wrapped meatball sandwich she had in her pocket and told me to eat it after I got my diploma and was waiting for everybody else’s names to get called. She said it would calm all the nerves… but all it did was embarrass the shit out of me, but I love her for it.”
“Saint! That’s gold!” I can’t stop laughing as I slide a hand through my wavy hair. “Did you eat the sandwich your nonna gave you?”
“No, I didn’t eat it up there.” Saint chuckles. “My nonna went back to her seat, but when she saw I wasn’t eating, she stood up from her chair and yelled, ‘Mangialo! Nonna l’ha fatto per te con amore. Non ti piace più la mia cucina, Santo? Non far piangere tua Nonna. Dai, mangialo! Non farmi venire di nuovo lassù!’ Which ultimately translates to, ‘Eat it. Nonna made it for you with love. You don’t like my cooking anymore, Santo? Don’t make your nonna cry. Come on, eat it! Don’t make me come up there again!’… And oh, did I mention my father was recording the entire thing?”
Hearing Saint speak Italian has me melting. So damn sexy.
It feels nice to listen to this side of him today—the real him.
“Your nonna sounds amazing and quite the character, although I would have died up there if that were me.”
“Oh, I definitely did. I couldn’t help but smile through the entire ordeal, but inside I was dying. Just when I thought Nonna was going to settle down, she began yelling at me in Italian about making our home country proud and how bad luck would follow me now because I didn’t put the brooch on before the ceremony. Security almost ushered her out.”
“Did she eventually forgive you?”
Saint nods, a smile still lingering on his lips. “An hour later when we got back home. She makes the best meatballs. I got them all.”
I giggle, shaking my head. “That sounds like the ultimate forgiveness.”
“It sure was.” Saint grins. “I have a soft spot for my nonna and her cooking. When I used to box professionally, she would create this huge table the next day with the best Italian food. I kind of regret retiring just because of that.”
“That sounds delicious.”
Saint nods and turns back to me. There’s happiness flooding his ocean eyes, an abundance of warmth that I want to never look away from. This little crush I started having on him years ago has magnified into a huge swell in my heart. The more we stare at each other with no words spoken and this heated gaze, the more it does something to me. I look at him, this time really look at him, and the second he gives me that slow, sexy smile, nothing can compare to the double backflip my heart does.
He’s so loving and compassionate… so sentimental.
Saint clears his throat and breaks our long stare when he returns his gaze to the road and takes a right turn. He frowns slightly. “I’m sorry I’m talking about family when…”
“No, don’t apologize. I love hearing about it. Please, unlock that vault more often.”
Saint smiles, turning to me as he slows down and comes to a perfect halt by the set of red lights. “There was this other time in Santa Rosa. I was really into tennis growing up. I used to spend the summer break with my nonna as my parents worked. One day, she drove me to this tennis court because I wanted her to play a few games with me. Anyway, we’re on the very first game. I served and she returned the serve strong but let go of the racket. It flew down two courts and hit this man in the head, and he blacked out. When he came to, we had to go to the ER with him because this huge bump appeared, and he was threatening to sue. My nonna was saying so many prayers, it was like she was performing her own rosary. Come to think of it, she did have rosary beads. The poor guy ended up being treated for a concussion. Three weeks later, I start freshman year and guess who my sports teacher was…”
Eyes wide, I burst out into laughter. “No way!”
“Yes way. He held this grudge against me for the entire year. Made me always be the one to pack away all the sports equipment. He was lucky I loved sports or else I would have fucking complained.”
“I think that was the best story anybody’s ever told me.”
“Not for the guy, it wasn’t.” Saint chuckles. “But I agree, it was pretty intense.”
“True.” I smile. “Thank you for sharing a piece of yourself with me. I love learning all these things about you… I like being with you, Saint.”
We share an extended stare and Saint parts his lips, about to say something, when a loud, persistent car beep from behind breaks our trance. I fly up in my seat and am about to clutch my heart in shock when Saint thrusts a protective hand over my chest, even though I have my seat belt on. I have no idea what’s happening, yet I brace for an impact that never comes. Instead, Saint’s hand slips away when he looks up at his rearview mirror and his eyes narrow at the driver behind us.
The lights are green. That’s why they beeped.
“Jesus.” I gasp. “God, that scared me.”
“Fuck. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I just wasn’t expecting it.”
“Motherfuckers,” Saint whispers under his breath. He presses his foot down on the accelerator and speeds up the street, building momentum.
My fingers clutch the door handle. Whoa, so fast. We’re flying. No wonder these cars go for hundreds of thousands of dollars. I never thought I had motion sickness until this very moment as houses zoom past us in fast motion and flashes of evergreen trees and people on the sidewalks go by too quickly. I can’t even make out any of the faces.
I guess now I know the difference between Saint and UBERs.
Moments later as we come to a stop by another set of red lights, I sigh as a young mom slowly walks across the road with a cute little boy. He can’t be any older than two and is the sweetest little thing. I may only be eighteen, but the baby fever is so damn high. I think after growing up with a lost sense of security in family after grief, all I want to do is to be a mom one day and feel secure surrounded by little bare feet and pure love.
“You okay, Paisley?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah.”
Loosening his tie, Saint turns his shoulders to me with only his left hand by the leather wheel. “You know I can tell when you’re not okay, right? Don’t feel like you need to fool me. It’s just us in this car. Just Paisley and Saint.”
I smile. “Just Paisley and Saint.”
Saint smirks, his perfect dimples deepening. “Glad you know our names now, wildflower.”
“Shut up.” I giggle and glance back down at my hands, rubbing them together slowly. “God, my cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling so much.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It is.”
“Oh, really now?”
The air crackles between us as Saint and I share an extended stare. It’s so heated and playful. So intimate, as if he’s staring right into my soul and I’m staring back into his.
“Mhmmm,” I murmur, the vibration getting caught in my throat.
Saint sighs and reaches out to push back my waves behind my left ear. His knuckles then softly caress down my smooth jaw, igniting me. “You’re going to be okay, beautiful. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”
“I know I am,” I whisper. “I always am when I’m with you.”
Saint smiles, his breath thick and mine non-existent as I bite my cheek and anticipate what comes next. My heart skips a beat the lower Saint’s touch falls… from my jaw to my neck and exposed collarbone now that the graduation gown is in the back seat and I’m just wearing a dress. It rouses my entire body to feel his touch on me, so much so I feel my nipples harden and stab through my cherry red bodycon midi dress, seeing as I’m not wearing a bra.
And then… just like that, it all falls apart as Saint’s hand backs away from my skin and that smile dissolves from his beautiful face. Mine follows suit. I don’t have to ask why. I know why… my father.
Even though Saint’s warm touch is stripped from me, I still feel him. I still feel the warmth in my heart. The abundance of joy in my lungs as I breathe in his scent, one I never want to leave behind.
“I’m always going to be here for you, Paisley, you know that. But…” Saint sighs and runs a hand over his stubbled jaw. Those irresistible toned biceps tense at the action, so perfect in that luxurious white dress shirt. He placed his blazer on the backseat before the drive. Taking his eyes off me, he gains momentum of the car as the lights flash an emerald green. “Please don’t get used to me being everything you always need, because I’m not always going to be that.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. I’ve shown you what you want to see, not the ugly. I can’t promise you won’t see the bad side of me, just like you did when I hit Erik… and I don’t expect you to understand that in reality I only have one side… the ugly… but that’s the truth.”
“But that’s not what you’re showing me right now. That’s why we agreed to stripping down the walls and showing each other the full extent of who we really are.”
“I know, but I should scare you. You should see me and want to run.”
I look at him and feel those butterflies in the pit of my stomach the second I meet his dreamy, blue gaze. “I once told you I’m not scared of you. I still feel the same.”
“But why?” he murmurs in such a hot kind of way.
“You know why.”
Saint’s eyes hold mine and darken.
The thought of telling him how I really feel about him… it thrills me. I can’t deny the sparks in my chest anymore. Not when they only grow stronger even more at the way he’s looking at me. This is such a surreal feeling, so intimately new, full of such expressive emotion in those ocean eyes I get lost in.
I want Saint.
I want him in ways I’ve never wanted anybody else before.
Saint pulls into our street and parks in front of our houses. I reach for my seat belt buckle and the cool tips of my fingers brush against the metal, but I don’t tug it loose.
Not yet.
I make a split decision and listen to my heart. The tension between us thick, the air heavy with need. My breaths quicken as my left hand rises to rest on top of Saint’s right hand, on the wheel. His blue eyes don’t leave mine as warmth meets coldness. My cold fingers fan out over his big hand, tingling as they brush against his calloused knuckles. I love everything about it. Everything about his skin on mine and the lustful gaze we share.
Saint is so masculine, so wise, so strong—the type that only comes from experience.
Then, it happens in a split moment. Saint’s hand slips from under mine and he turns mine over. The back of my hand falls to the wheel and his comes over mine, lacing his fingers through mine.
My God…
I’m certain my heart can’t race any faster. Not as Saint draws our hands to his mouth and softly kisses my every knuckle with his warm lips. When he rests our clasped hands on my lap and squeezes tight… I melt. My body is so responsive to him and craves him even more as Saint continues to look at me as if nothing else matters. I want a little taste of sin. Fuck it, I want it all. The more time I spend with him, the more I want the Devil of Sacramento in his full wild and beastly ways.
Saint’s hand slips from mine and it kills me. He stares ahead at our street with pursed lips for the longest time and in a flash of a second, he’s transformed from charismatic to all serious. Just when I think it’s all over, Saint turns his head to me, and I forget how to breathe.
His piercing gaze shifts from my own eyes down to my lips and stays there. It’s as if he’s fighting an urge within himself to look away. I bite my lip. God. The extended stare lingers for so long and my blood heats as I clench my thighs together.
Oh my…
Saint runs his tongue over his lower lip, and I can’t help but imagine all the things that tongue could do to me. Dear God. Stop looking at me like that, Saint, or I will kiss you…
At this rate, I don’t know how my heart hasn’t burst out of my chest, because while I hold back the words threatening to fall, I feel myself throbbing in arousal. This sensual stare-off also doesn’t help. It’s almost as if he can read all my dirty secrets. As if he knows exactly what I do when I’m aroused and aching to take the edge off.
Parting my lips, I decide to poke the beast and murmur, “I want more, Saint.”
There, I said it.
Saint’s eyes darken even deeper, dripping with a desire only women who’ve never kissed can comprehend. I suck in a breath after a pause that lasts several seconds.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
And then…
“Fuck it,” Saint breathes. “I want more too, wildflower.”
Biting my lip mid-smile, I do a terrible job at pretending my soul didn’t just explode into deep red rose petals. “You do?”
“Yes. More than you know.”
My heart spasms in big waves of happiness. “I feel the same way.”
“Mhmmm,” Saint murmurs, the pad of his thumb softly grazing over my lower lip. The slow and teasing touch electrifies me. “I wish I could see you tonight, but I’m working.”
“You’re seeing me tomorrow night.”
It’s Saint’s thirty-sixth birthday tomorrow and we’re planning to celebrate it at a Downtown Sacramento restaurant to coincide with my little graduation dinner.
“I know.” Saint nods. “But I meant just you and me. Alone. What time does your father start work on Saturday?”
“Three p.m.”
“I’ll meet you on your porch at three thirty p.m. on Saturday. Dress for the beach, with a change of clothes too.”
“Oh, I have an afternoon shift on Saturday and am meant to be closing the—”
Saint cuts me off with a sexually frustrated growl. “Change it.”
“Done.”
“Brava.”
I grin. “What do you have planned, Mr. Lisconti?”
“Want to take you on a ride on my Harley to my favorite places in California.” A slow, sexy smirk breaks on his lips as he adds, “And then some…”
It’s just after 4:00 p.m when my father steps into the kitchen. I didn’t even notice he came back home as I’ve been on a quick call with Maralyn. She wanted the full rundown of how my graduation went and couldn’t stop squealing that high school is now a thing of the past for me. It’s what I love about her most—her enthusiasm and bubbly personality.
As much as I would have loved Maralyn to come along to dinner tomorrow night, it’s her sister’s birthday, and she couldn’t get out of it. I haven’t told her a thing about Saint, but I hope soon that can change.
I don’t know what that Harley ride on Saturday will entail, but now that we’re on the same page, I can’t rule anything out… and that’s a good thing. Being emotionally connected and sexually attracted to such a beautiful Italian older man is one thing, but him admitting he wants more too… it’s something else, something beyond.
I’ve been feeling giddy ever since. I can’t wait to see him. Saint makes me a better woman. I’m bolder. Freer. Respect myself more than I ever have. And that’s all because I met Saint and he showed me how.
Now, as my father pulls me into a tight embrace and I breathe in his familiar firewood scent, all the built-up guilt I’ve had in the back of my mind these past months washes away. Is it bad that I’m so drawn to Saint that I don’t even feel guilty? I know my father will kill both Saint and me if he finds out that there’s something beyond simply being amicable, which is why I’m determined for him not to suspect a thing.
Sorrow laces my father’s eyes as we pull away from our embrace.
“Paisley… I don’t even know where to begin. I’m so damn sorry. You don’t know how bad I feel that I…” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus, I can’t believe I missed your graduation. I didn’t expect to work overtime and couldn’t say no.”
“Dad.” I smile, retaking my seat on one of the metal kitchen barstools. “You don’t need to apologize. I know how demanding your job is and would never want to jeopardize that. Your patients need you.”
“But I need you more. You’re the only family I have left, Paisley. I want to be there for you, and I just feel like… I never am. I’m never there when you need me the most and I want to cherish these final months before you head to Seattle for college, but I always seem to screw it up. Like today. I…” My father pauses with another sigh. He runs a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, tugging hard at the ends. “I… I feel like the worst father in the world. Such a failure.”
“You know that’s not true.”
Dad swallows thickly. “Isn’t it, though?”
I don’t like that he’s feeling this way because it isn’t true.
I shake my head at his words. “No, it’s not. Yes, you’ve missed out on certain aspects of my life, but you make it up to me when you’re here.”
“You give me too much credit, sweetheart.”
“You don’t give yourself enough. You’re not a failure. You could never be.”
“You mean that?”
“You know I do.”
My father shakes his head, taking a seat on the barstool beside me. His Adam’s apple bops up and down as he gulps down again. His brown eyes stay level with the glossy white backsplash, unable to meet mine as they turn all glassy. “It isn’t fair, Paisley. This isn’t the life I wanted for us.”
“Your job is physically and mentally demanding, it’s—”
“I meant a life without your mom.”
Oh.
As I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear, my heart thumps in loud pitter-patters at the mention of her. My dad rarely talks about her, but when he does it’s deep.
Squeezing his left shoulder, I offer him a soft smile when his eyes land on mine and say, “Dad, I love you and everything that you do. I wouldn’t change a single thing in the world. You inspire me more than you know. Schedules can get in the way, but I know you always have the best intentions at heart. We don’t have to be together to be together, you know what I mean?”
“I know exactly what you mean. You’re so right.” My father smiles back, and it’s the happiest I’ve seen him in a while. “God, I’m so proud of you, Paisley. You’ve grown up into such a beautiful woman. So wise and intelligent. Your mom doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
“I have you. That’s all that matters now.”
“That’s all that matters to me too. When I started med school, everything was different. Faye… your mother. She was still in the picture back then. I was a twenty-two-year-old father to such a beautiful newborn baby girl, and I was the happiest I’d ever been. I thought I had it all, the perfect little family with the woman of my dreams standing right beside me. I loved your mother so much, Paisley. So damn much. I mean, I was ready to propose to her, you know? But the world was black and white to her. She wasn’t happy. She hadn’t been for a long time. As much as I wanted to be the one to change her, I couldn’t. So, when Faye told me she couldn’t handle it anymore and left, I didn’t know what life would look like for you and me. I never chased her. Not for a second chance. Not for anything. I didn’t because I wanted whatever happiness she was attempting to seek to set her free.”
“And because you’re a good person. Not many people would have done what you did.”
“I know, but I just didn’t want drama either. Sometimes you’ve got to know when to fight for it and keep the butterfly caged. Other times, you simply have to rid it of suffering and watch it flutter away… and that’s what I did.”
Warm tears stream down my cheeks at just how touching my father’s words are. It means a lot to me that he’s chosen to open up about something so sensitive to both of us. The salty tears slide down and baptize my lips. I lick them away as I scoot closer to my father.
“Hey,” I whisper and squeeze his left shoulder tighter. “You did everything for her. You couldn’t have done anything else, Dad. I know it hurts that she left us both because it all got too much, but you also need to know it isn’t on you. It never was. I don’t blame you for a single thing and neither should you. We’re in this together and I’m so happy it’s you. You know I love you more than anything.”
My father’s reddened eyes meet me moments from breaking. He pulls me into a tight embrace, and I let my head rest on his shoulder. My eyes close as I wrap my arms around him.
This feels like home.
I’ve never seen my father like this. He just needs to get all the built-up, emotion-filled rage out. He’s kept it all trapped inside him since I was a little girl. Now it’s time to let it go.
I don’t know who’s supporting who in this moment, but whatever it may be, it’s such a bittersweet moment between us, filled with emotion, history, and hope. My heart is beating so fast because all my life I’ve been so concentrated on how my mom leaving impacted me. Sometimes it’s easy to forget the scars it left my dad with too.
As my father holds me tighter and it’s just his heartbeat against mine, flashes of his best friend cross my mind… Saint. I try to put on a brave face and smile when we pull away, but it isn’t so easy. My father smiles back with pure love as he wipes away his tears and leans to softly kiss my forehead. The guilt that had left me before crashes back to shore in heavy waves.
I’m betraying my father with his closest best friend.
Yet Saint is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself if I don’t explore the strong feelings I have for him and where it may take us.
It’s as if there are veins of roses wrapped around mine, their thorns seeping deep inside and forming dints.
And I know exactly what happens to the heart when those little dints become major…
It breaks.
