Chapter 21 Heath #2
Picking up her hand, I kiss her knuckles. “One thing that I hate are the injuries on you. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”
She shrugs. “It doesn’t hurt that bad.”
I don’t believe you.
The dark circles under her eyes catch my attention, and even though I know the answer, I ask anyway.“Did you sleep last night?”
“A little,” she says shyly.
“Explain little.”
“Thirty minutes,” she mutters.
Without thinking, I straighten my legs and pull her head into my lap—making sure her face is a good distance away from a certain body part.
She peers up at me, her body rigid. “Wh-what are you doing?”
I cover her eyes with my palm. “Letting you take a nap.”
“It’s okay. I’m not sleepy.”
“Probably, but you look tired.”
“I’ll sleep tonight.”
“Just close your eyes and relax,” I command.
“But—”
“Rose,” her name escapes my lips like a melody, sweet and filled with love. I feel like I’m incapable of saying her name with any other emotion, because even her name is too precious for me.
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Do it for me,” I say.
I half-expect an argument, but she stays silent. Carefully I remove my hand away from her eyes and find them closed. She isn’t sleeping, but at least she isn’t wasting any more of her energy.
Any other guy in my position would look away, but I don’t.
Seeing her like this warms my insides. The fact that she trusts me and feels safe around me. I never knew what that’d do to me—my heart. Since the first time I saw her, I’ve been wanting her to get this comfortable with me.
Reaching down, I caress her temple. The scar from a week ago is there and it will be for a long fucking time. Not wanting to get aggravated over it, I study the rest of her face and quickly realize how much I like her face.
It’s not just the face. It’s the whole girl.
Not wanting to wake her up, I pull back my hand and watch the sky instead. For a long time I hated looking at it, but now it feels like someone there is looking back at me and making sure I’m okay.
—————————
“Your mother knows about me!” Hope pales.
I park my car in the driveway and mention it to her so that we don’t have to sneak around anymore.
“Yes.” My lips twitch in amusement, but I turn serious. “Another thing that you didn’t tell me about.”
She pales further. “I’m sorry. I… I just thought you didn’t want me want me meeting your mom but at the cafe she was there and we started talking and I didn’t know what to do and—”
Leaning over, I kiss her. “It’s alright.”
“I thought you’d hate me for talking to her—”
“I could never hate you. Remember that.”
She opens her mouth but then shuts it. For that alone, I reward her with a kiss.
“But you should’ve told me,” I mumble against her lips.
She sighs. “I know.”
I nod. “Let’s go inside.”
Walking around the car, I help her out and then entwine our fingers.
I lead her inside. Her fingers shake and she moves slowly beside me.
“Relax,” I whisper to her as we pass the empty foyer.
“I am.”
“You are shaking.”
“I’m not.”
“Rose,” I raise our hands and plant a kiss on the back of her hand. “It’ll be fine.”
She lets out a breath. “I just want her to like me.”
“She already does,” I assure her. All I want to do is pull her into my arms and squeeze the anxiety out of her.
“Heath, is that you?” Mom calls from the living room.
Hope stiffens and stares at me with wide eyes.
I clench my jaw as tension gathers beneath the surface.
Before I can say anything, my mother stands in the hallway.
She looks stunning in a pastel pink dress paired with pearl jewelry and white shoes.
Her face brightens up when she sees me — a glow that makes her look fuller and younger, so opposite than the version that came here a week ago and almost gave me a heart attack.
A megawatt smile appears on her lips as she closes the long distance with hurried steps and engulfs me in a hug.
“You’re home,” she whispers underneath her breath.
She is always delighted to find me home. And I always find it strange.
“Yes,” I put my hand on her back and pat. The action is full of awkwardness.
Fortunately, she takes the hint and lets go of me rather quickly.
It takes me a second to figure out why.
“Hope, dear.” She wraps her arms around my girlfriend and hugs her tightly.
Panicked brown eyes find me and I give her hand a squeeze to let her know that it’s okay.
I don’t know my mother well, but I know she won’t jeopardize it. She knows the consequences will be dire. Because this is huge. I’m letting her meet the person who’s the most important to me. The person I’m helplessly in love with. The person who’s my girl.
If she hurts Rose, we’re done forever.
“It’s so nice to see you again.” Mom smiles.
“Uh, you too,” Hope replies shyly.
“I had no idea that you’re dating my son.”
Hope pales further. “I…yes…I…uh… forgot.”
I cough to hide my laugh. She’s adorable when she is like this.
“You forgot?” Mom teases her.
In return, Hope squeezes my hand so hard I feel like she’ll break my bones. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t sure — I’m sorry—”
“Oh my, you don’t need to apologise. I don’t mind.” Mom touches her shoulder to reassure her. “I’m sure you had your reasons. I understand.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologise.” She gives her a knowing smile.
Hope nods.
“Now, are you hungry? I made lunch.”
“I’m not hungry.”
She is hungry but she won’t admit it to my mother.
I weigh my options, whether to have lunch with my mother or not. The way she’s watching us with a dazzling smile, I know she is dying to know all the details. She assured me that she’d be careful but I feel like the excitement will make her curious and she’d probe us with questions.
And I don’t want to make Hope uncomfortable.
“We’ll be in my room,” I say and give her hand a squeeze. Hope visibly relaxes beside me.
Mom looks gloomy but muster up a smile. “If you need anything let me know.”
I give her a nod and then steer us towards the direction of my room.
“Your mother is nice,” Hope says as soon as I shut the door and slip on the lock.
“Perhaps,” I say as I pick out clothes to change into.
“You’re not sure?” Hope appears in the archway that separates my room and the walk-in closet.
I stare down at the clothes. “I don’t know her that well.”
“Do you want to?”
I shrug.
Her inquisitive stare burns a hole in the side of my face. I know she wants to press me for answers but I don’t have those. This whole mess with my parents is something I’m figuring out myself.
All I keep thinking about is that they’re going to leave sooner or later.
They said that they’re moving back, but there will come a time when they’ll pack their shit and leave. I’m betting it’d take them a month.
Looking over, I smirk. “I’m planning on changing. I wouldn’t mind if you watch.”
Her cheeks redden and she steps back. “Uh…I’ll wait.”
Turning around, she disappears.
I just smile.
Once I’ve changed clothes, I join her. She is standing near the couch, still not comfortable enough in my space to do whatever she feels like.
“You can sit down, Rose,” I say.
She jostles, finding me behind her.
As she sits down, I stride towards the cardboard boxes that have the stuff I ordered for her. I study the pile. There are five of them.
I look over and she is busy studying the boxes. She is curious.
A rush of excitement pumps me, knowing what’s inside will make her happy.
Sitting down, I reach for the flat box. Using a cutter, I carefully cut through the tape.
The noise slices through the quietness of the room that seems to be brimming with anticipation.
Inside, there are two tall side panels, smooth and white, with pre-drilled holes running their lengths.
Also the top and bottom boards, the five shelves and a thin fiberboard — the back panel.
Next to it is another small cardboard box which contains the hardware pack.
There are wood dowels, cam lock nuts and bolts, screws, nails, tiny metal shelf pegs and anti-tip bracket kit and the instruction manual which has information paired with images to build this thing.
I check everything, making sure all the accessories are present before I get to work.
Taking out the planks, I set them neatly on the floor in an organized manner. Then put in the wooden dowels.
“What are you doing?” Hope asks, a frown embeds between her eyebrows. She looks completely clueless. And completely cute.
“I’m building a bookshelf,” I reply.
“But why? You don’t have books.”
Yeah I fucking don’t, because I’m not a reader.
I grab the manual and start to read it to hide my vulnerability. Quietly, I mutter, “It’s not for me.”
Because I can’t help it I sneak a look at her. She purses her lips, still confused as hell. “Then?”
“It’s for you.”
“But why?”
Putting down the manual I look her right in the eye. “Because your dad fucking destroyed your book wall. He doesn’t get to destroy the one thing you love the most in the world.”
Her brown eyes fill with sorrow. “You don’t have to.”
“I know but I want to.” I add, “When it comes to you, I can’t stop myself from giving you everything that I can.”
“I’m sorry, I… I don’t want to be a burden—”
I snap. “You are not a burden, you can never be a burden to me. I’m doing this because I know how much you love books.”
She nods. “The shelf will take up too much space.”
I smile. “I have plenty of place. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”
She fidgets with her fingers as anxiety tightens its hold on her. “Are you sure you want to do it?”
“How about you come here and I kiss you to tell you how much I want it?”