Chapter 6 Reese #2
“Yeah. I was already a mess, already doubting everything. And then he showed up, saying all the things I was already thinking.” Roan rubbed his face.
“At eighteen, fresh off a public breakdown, with your father standing in my living room telling me I’d ruin your life?
I convinced myself he was right. That leaving was the kindest thing I could do.
Plus, as I’ve already said—and regret telling you—he threatened to call in Uncle Walter’s bank loan. That was the final straw.”
“You could have told me anything,” Reese said, her voice breaking. “I would have understood. Or tried to anyway. We’d been so close.”
“I know that now,” Roan said.
Reese took a sip of her wine, remembering the night of prom. “I waited for three hours. In my fancy dress. Sure you would come. I refused to give up, defending you, making excuses, but finally I had to accept it. You weren’t coming.”
“I’m so sorry,” Roan said, voice catching.
“My dad said he’d always known you’d let me down.” She met his eyes. “He didn’t seem surprised at all. It all makes sense now.”
“Because he’d made sure I wouldn’t show up.” Roan bit out the words as if they tasted bad in his mouth.
“I had no idea that he threatened your family,” Reese said. “I can’t get my head around it. Part of me wants to believe you’re mistaken, that he didn’t mean it that way. But I also know how he was.”
“Always lecturing you about discipline,” Roan said. “I remember you crying a few times about how much pressure you felt.”
She looked down at her wine glass. “The worst part is thinking about how cruel it was to do that to a boy who had just lost his mother.” She paused. “I don’t know if I can forgive him for that.”
“It was fifteen years ago. Maybe just forget I ever told you,” Roan said. “He’s gone now. There’s nothing either of us can do about any of it.”
“But you did tell me. Which means I can’t forget.
For years after, he let me think you just didn’t care.
That you were irresponsible and flaky and couldn’t be bothered to show up.
” Her voice hardened. “He manipulated a kid into thinking you were worthless. The boy I loved with all my heart, by the way. For years, I thought something was wrong with me. That I’d done something to make you leave. And he let me believe that.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You were perfect. That was part of the problem—you had this whole brilliant future ahead of you, and I was just …” He gestured vaguely. “A mess. Your dad saw that. Maybe he was wrong to threaten me, but he wasn’t wrong that I didn’t have my life together.”
“You’d just lost your mother.”
“I know. But grief doesn’t excuse everything. I still made choices. I still hurt you.” He met her eyes. “I’m not trying to absolve myself. I’m just trying to explain.”
The bar felt too warm suddenly. Reese realized her scarf was still around her neck. She loosened it, gulping in a deep breath. “It’s all right now. We’re all grown up. And it gives us insight that can help the kids.”
“I spent fifteen years running from it, using work to avoid dealing with anything real.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope we can help them choose a different path.”
“I threw myself into ballet the same way you threw yourself into stunts. Worked until my body broke down, rather than dealing with the hurt.”
He looked at her, his expression shifting from pain to curiosity. “Yeah. I guess we both did that. Maybe we’re more alike than I ever thought we were.” The server came by to check on them. They both shook their heads, declining another round.
When she left, Reese said, “Those kids tonight reminded me how young we were. They’re babies.”
“We were babies.”
“Yeah.” She finished her wine. “Babies who deserve forgiveness. Maybe it’s time for you to forgive yourself.”
“It would feel good. Not to wake up feeling ashamed.”
“You have to let yourself off the hook,” Reese said.
“How about this? I forgive you.” Was she telling the truth?
Did she forgive him after all this time?
She tried to remember how angry she’d been but instead she just saw the man before her.
No longer a grieving teen but a man trying to make amends for how he hurt her. “Does that help?”
“More than you know.”
“Maybe it’s meant to be,” Reese said. “Both of us back home. Grace basically shoving us together to help the kids.”
“Maybe it is.”
They smiled at each other, lingering for a moment. Oh, yes, she remembered this feeling. No one else had ever made the world seem to stop. But Roan? He drew her in and held her close, whether it was physical or emotional.
“We should go,” Roan said. “Big day tomorrow for both of us.”
“Yes, I suppose we should.” Even though she didn’t want to.
Outside, the cold hit them immediately. The sidewalks were icy—and she nearly slipped—but Roan took hold of her arm, steadying her. She looked up at him, mesmerized by his eyes. They stood that way for a few seconds, until a couple came out of The Moose behind them, forcing them to keep moving.
As they reached her car, Reese turned to face him. “I’m wondering if my mom knew what he’d done. And if I should try and talk to her about it or just let it go. We’re not close. Never were, really. Now she’s remarried and living in Texas.”
“Grace told me.”
She pulled her keys from her pocket. “But it might do me good to confront her about her complicit behavior my whole childhood. She never once stood up for me when my dad berated me the way he did.”
Roan tilted his head to the side, studying her. “You’ve changed since we were kids.”
“In what way?”
“You’re more assertive. More sure of yourself. Less of a people pleaser maybe?”
She shook her head, chuckling. “I’m working on that one still. Therapy helps.”
“It does, yeah.”
“You’re in therapy?” She couldn’t help but gape at him.
“Not currently. But I was. Back in L.A. Thanks to Jason. He really pushed me to go. Once he started, he understood how helpful it can be. I was a harder case.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” She hesitated, then said, “Thank you for everything you said tonight. I’m sure none of this was easy to talk about. It means a lot to me.”
“If it helped you, then I’m glad I did.” He paused for a moment, looking up at the sky, as snow began to fall. “Truthfully, it helped me to talk about it. So thank you for that.”
Reese gazed up at him, watching as flakes landed in his eyelashes and onto his face. Without thinking, she brushed them from his cheek. He caught her hand in his and pressed it to his chest. Even through his thick jacket, she felt the beat of his heart.
“I missed you,” Roan said. “More than you’ll ever know.”
Don’t say that, she thought. Don’t give me hope.
Out loud she said simply, “I missed you too.” Then, she got in her car and drove away, windshield wipers working overtime to brush aside the falling snow.