Her hair is about an inch from my nose. I can’t resist the pull to her any longer. I lower my head, breathing her in. I feel some kind of peace I haven’t experienced in a long time settle over me, which makes me angry at myself for allowing that to happen.
I lengthen my strides, eager to get to the truck and put some distance between us. I halt in front of the Suburban and balance her in my arms which is no huge feat, given how light she is. I dig out my keys from my jeans pocket. After opening the car door, I duck in and sit her on the seat then stand back as she buckles the belt with fidgety fingers. I shut the door, round the car and slide onto my seat. Then I realize I have no idea where she lives. I angle my body to face her at the same time she peeks up at me.
“What’s your address?”
She yawns. “We live in my grandma’s house.”
My gaze automatically goes to the flower shop across from the cafe. I shove the key into the ignition and dart a glance at her. “What happened to Phoebe’s?”
She sighs and shuts her eyes for a few seconds. They flutter open again. There’s so much pain in them it hurts just to stare into their green depths.
“I run it now. Grandma Phoebe passed away a few years ago.”
My fingers itch to tuck those strands of hair behind her ear. Pull her to my chest. Comfort her.
Instead, I tighten my hold on the wheel. “I’m sorry.”
She stares into my eyes for a few seconds. I can see questions locked in there, fighting to break free. It’s a wonder she hasn’t exploded yet with whatever she’s holding inside her chest.
“Why didn’t you reply to my letters, Cole?” Her eyes are bright with tears. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to have anything to do with me. I’d probably have done the same thing if I were in your shoes. . .” She pauses and inhales deeply. “I wanted them to know you so badly.”
I try and fail miserably to think of a suitable excuse. “I’m sorry. I was wrong to ignore the letters.”
Her features soften immediately and she lifts her hands from her lap and signs, “I’m not blaming you. I just need to understand. Please make me understand.” She stops and rubs her eyes with the heel of her hand. “I got the private mail box address you were sharing with Simon from his mom. She also gave me your home address. I wrote you letters, hoping to get a reply from you. But I never received any letters. Josh flew to New York to search for you, but when he got to the address, the landlord informed him that you had moved houses.”
I drag my fingers through my hair, tugging it back in frustration. I can’t bring myself to tell her how much I hated her and Josh. How much I craved her smile, her touch every night, and then hated her all over again in the morning. I would rather she thinks I’m a jerk, but I can’t hurt her like that.
I rub my forehead, feeling drained. “Tell me what to expect when we get to your house. Please.”
She shakes her head and quickly wipes the tears on her cheeks. “They think Josh is their father. I’ve tried so many times to tell them the truth over the years, but with every passing month, year I didn’t hear from you, doubts filled me. What if you weren’t interested in being part of the girls’ lives? How could I explain that to Cora and Joce? Your mother thought it would be good for them to learn ASL. She always believed you’d come back. I continued to send the letters, batting away at the fears though. I knew you received them. I made sure I sent them through certified mail to make sure they got to you.
“Maybe I’m selfish for not telling the girls the truth. I wanted them to grow up in a home where they felt loved and wanted. I grew up wondering if my father loved me and my sisters, or if he was living in regret for having us. Oh, God. you will never know how sorry I am for the way things turned out.”
Silence falls between us.
I understand what she is saying. I know where she is coming from and I know the truth in her words. Her father was a sad excuse for a DNA donor.
Fuck. I can’t think right now. So much has happened, misunderstandings and missed opportunities, which could have been easily solved if I hadn’t been so stubborn.
I turn my focus on the road as I back out of the parking spot. Her fingers touch my forearm. Fire ignites where her small hand is pressed to my skin, spreading all over my body. Rekindling the dark places I’ve hidden away from myself. It’s distracting. It’s dangerous. And right now unwanted, even though everything in me screams in need. Wanting more. Wanting less.
I shake her hand off and send her a quick glare. “Don’t touch me.”
I see her shrink away from me from the corner of my eye.