CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Breck
“ W illow, why don’t you go to the bathroom before we go through security, yeah?” I say, wanting a minute alone with Rory.
“But I don’t need to go.” Willow stomps her foot. Literally stomps her foot. I know I shouldn’t encourage her, but I can’t hold back a laugh.
“Doesn’t matter. Go try anyway.” I nod toward the bathroom behind where we’re standing.
One aggressive eye-roll later, she takes her stomping feet with her to the bathroom. As soon as she rounds the corner, I pull Rory into my arms. I slide a hand up her back and into her hair, not caring that we’re in public, not caring who’s watching. We have only minutes. I tilt her face up and slant my lips over hers, insistent and wanting, using this kiss to convey all the things I can’t say.
I want her to know how much I appreciate her for being the support I didn’t know we needed. For being a friend. For being a woman I’m proud Willow looks up to. More than all of that, for helping me see I’m capable of intimacy again. For things I won’t let myself put into words. Knowing if I do, even in my head, this will become infinitely harder.
I want more and I don’t want to stop, but it won’t be long before Willow is back, and she doesn’t need to find us tangled up in each other. I slow the kiss and pull back enough to press my forehead to hers.
I take a steadying breath and whisper, “Thank you,” into the space between us.
She sighs against me and her shoulders relax. She hugs me, resting her head on my shoulder, and breathes the same two words into my ear. I squeeze her a little tighter and she shudders in my grasp.
Another set of arms wrap around us both and I pull Willow into our embrace. Her smaller shoulders shake. She’s upset and I know, for her, this is only making it harder.
I close my eyes and inhale, then pull away. We’ve put off the inevitable long enough. I gather our things and give Willow a minute with Rory, who drops down to her haunches. My throat feels thick watching her hug my daughter. Willow whispers something in Rory’s ear and they tighten their embrace as Rory whispers something back.
I brush my hand down Willow’s back and she looks up at me, eyes red and puffy. I give her a little nod and her shoulders sag. She stands up and Rory follows, averting her wet gaze.
“Keep me posted on your travels so I know you make it home, okay?” Her voice quavers and I look at the ceiling, wishing gravity could pull the tears back.
“I will,” I manage to get out but have to clear my throat to keep going. “We’ll talk soon. I want to hear how the elopement tomorrow goes with Patrick.”
“Right, yeah, of course.” Rory looks up and our eyes catch. Seeing both my girls so sad is eviscerating my heart. But Rory’s not my girl, not really.
I wish more than anything this wasn’t so damn hard.
“Bye, Rory.”
“Bye.” Her voice cracks and she turns at the same time Willow and I head for security.
I won’t look back. I won’t look back.
I look back.
She doesn’t.
But I can tell she’s crying as she walks away, and my throat stings with unshed tears. I will not cry. I can’t. If I lose it, Willow will fall apart, and I can already feel her trembling under my arm. I pull her closer and try to send all my love into that touch.
It takes an hour and a half to get through security and to board our plane, but we’re finally seated comfortably on our first flight to Los Angeles. Willow leans against my side, legs pulled up under her, head on my chest. I wonder if she’ll always let me snuggle her like this. I hope so.
“Daddy.”
“Yeah, Willow?” I say against her hair.
She sits up and I look down into her blue eyes.
“Did you tell Rory you love her?”
My heart stutters, along with my brain. “Wh-what?”
“Before we left, did you tell her you love her?” Her eyes are wide, innocent and questioning.
I don’t know what to say. I’m blinking too fast and my breaths are shallow.
“You told me once when I saw you kissing Mom and thought it was gross that it was because you loved each other.”
I blink again. “Oh-kay…”
“I saw you kissing Rory while I was supposed to be in the bathroom,” she says, unapologetic. I purse my lips and tilt my head down in annoyance at her sneaking around. “What? I told you I didn’t need to go. Anyway, it’s okay if you forgot to tell her. I told her. So at least she knows.”
My heart cracks under the strain. Of course that’s what she said to Rory. I want to ask what Rory said in return, but those words were for Willow.
“I—thanks, sweetheart.” I pull her toward me and kiss her head so I don’t have to look in her eyes. Eyes that are like mine but belong to a girl who’s so much braver than me. Her willingness to put her heart out there after what she’s been through both inspires and terrifies me. I hate that I brought someone new into her life that she started to love and is now losing all over again. I hate it for me too.
“Daddy?” she whispers, and I tense with anticipation. “Why didn’t Rory come with us?”
I close my eyes against the swell of emotion, swallowing thickly. “Because her life is here.” A life I hope will flourish now that she’s doing what she really wants. A life I’ll only get to see through images, maybe phone calls, and the occasional visit.
“Why couldn’t we stay here then?”
“Because our life is in Sydney.” Even if it’s a life that feels entirely unfamiliar to me now.
“But Mom said she loved us and she left. It feels like we’re doing the same thing to Rory. I don’t want her to think we don’t love her.”
I sniff, staring at the ceiling again. This kid is killing me. She’s too smart, too observant, and it’s breaking my heart.
“I know you’re sad to leave, and so am I, but it’s not the same as when Mom left. Rory is our friend, and we have different lives. She knows we aren’t leaving because we don’t—” I can’t get the word out, so I stumble on without it. “We don’t always get to live near our friends, sweetheart. Like when Wes lived far away. I knew it was because that’s where his life took him, not because he didn’t care about me anymore.”
“Do you kiss all your friends?” she asks, a hint of sass to the question.
“No, I don’t. But you also weren’t supposed to see that.”
“Why not?”
So many questions.
“I-I don’t know. You’ve only ever seen me kiss your mom. I didn’t know what you’d think and I didn’t want to upset you. Kissing aside, Rory and I are just friends.” Lie . But then… that’s all we were ever supposed to be. Short-lived, an itch scratched, less overthinking. It was never meant to be more.
Then it was. And now it’s not.
“Okay.” Willow sighs, her body slumping in defeat. “I’m just really going to miss her.”
“Me too, Bear, me too.”
As hard it was getting on the plane to leave, getting off the plane in Sydney is a relief. Joss worked some airline magic and got us upgrades to lie-flat seats from LA to Sydney, but I’m still knackered.
Our luggage expanded with the snow gear we accumulated during our trip, so Wes offered to meet us at baggage claim. There’s a sense of déjà vu as I approach the carousels with Willow on my back, heavier than she was three months ago, pulling two carry-ons.
I’m so focused on getting past the secure area doors and into the main terminal that I’m only alerted to his presence by Willow’s scream in my ear.
“Uncle Wes!”
My head snaps up.
There he is, Joss behind him, walking toward us with big smiles in place. Willow releases my neck and hops to the ground, sprinting for Wes, and it’s not just her weight that drops from my shoulders. He scoops her into his arms, squeezing until she starts to protest. Willow’s words are flying at a million miles a minute, and Joss makes her way over to wrap me in a bear hug.
“Thank you for the upgrade,” I say. “That was a very nice surprise. I doubt either of us would be standing right now if not for you.”
Joss stands much shorter, wearing only a pair of flip flops, yet she looks me straight in the eye. “You’re welcome. We’re glad to have you home.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Wes says, nearly shoving past Joss to get to me and scooping me into his arms. “We’ve missed you.”
“Us too,” I say, my throat feeling thick again, clogged with exhaustion and emotion. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say it’s good to be back, but I’d be lying. I’m not sure how to feel about being here again.
“How many bags are we looking for?” Joss asks.
“Too many,” I say with a groan. They laugh, but I’m not kidding. “Three large ones, plus my snowboard bag. I had to buy an extra suitcase for all the winterwear. Then of course there were the birthday presents, and all the random souvenirs, and just stuff . Do you know how much you can collect in just three months?”
“A lot… But I think I snagged the best thing of all in my first few months here,” Wes says, looking down at Joss.
“Goodness, can you be any cheesier, Wes?” Joss smacks his chest with a soft thump.
“I’m sure I could try, Grey.” He waggles his eyebrows at her.
Their banter has always been my favorite part of their relationship. Even when they were “just friends,” they could rib each other and make the other laugh so easily.
“Daddy, there’s my bag!” Willow shouts, pulling our attention toward the bright purple suitcase on the conveyor belt. Rory helped Willow pick it out, and there was no changing either of their minds when I suggested a more neutral color.
“Ah, very pretty,” Joss says, pulling it off with an oof . “What do you have packed in here? Bricks?”
“Daddy put all our shoes in that one… and my books.”
“Well, that would explain it.”
The other bags arrive shortly after Willow’s and we make the slow trek to the parking lot where Wes has my Hilux parked. There are two things I definitely missed about Sydney: the friends standing around me, and my ute. I drag my hand over the back bumper before releasing the tailgate so we can slide all the bags into the bed.
“Think you’ll remember how to drive on the left side of the road? Or are you fully Americanized now?”
“I think I’ll manage.” I give his shoulder a shove and open the door for Willow to hop in the back, preparing myself for this drive.
We’re going home for the first time in three months. For the first time since it stopped feeling like our home at all.