Chapter 37 Heath
HEATH
“What is going on here?” She glances at Hope, then me. “Were you guys — ”
I roll my eyes. “Nothing happened.”
Grabbing my T-shirt from beside me, I slip it on and sweep a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the tension.
“But — ”
Standing up, I glare at her. “I said nothing happened.”
Disbelief lingers in her eyes, and worry etches onto her face — for what, I don’t know. She found us in a compromising position, so what? It’s not like this kinda stuff doesn't happen between teenagers.
She shifts her gaze on Hope and I hate it.
Walking in her direction, I plant myself in front of her, hiding her from her peculiar gaze.
“I thought you weren’t coming home,” I say, finding those words so strange. For years, I lived without them, never really bothered by when they showed up or when they disappeared. Because in the end, they never stayed.
But now it’s different. They come back when they go out. It’s a mundane thing that doesn't even matter, but it holds so much meaning. All my life, I only watched them walking out of the door.
Mom rubs her arms — a clear sign of discomfort — as she steps into the room. “Uh, yes. I was going to stay with your dad in the city, but I came back.” Looking up at me she adds, “I didn’t want to leave you alone again.”
My heart clenches. “You didn’t have to come back.”
Her face softens. “I know, but I wanted to.”
We stare at each other for a moment.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m always alone here.” Words leave my mouth before I can think.
“Maybe that can change now,” she says in a gentle tone.
“Too fucking late,” I murmur.
Hope grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. The storm of anger and frustration stirring within me begins to fade, its intensity slowly draining away.
Mom gives me a weak smile. “Can we talk downstairs?”
I narrow my eyes. “About what?”
She arches an eyebrow. “About what I saw.”
“You saw nothing,” I grumble.
Her lips twitch. “Come downstairs. I want to talk to you both.”
My mouth opens to argue but she exits the room.
“She hates me,” Hope cries out from behind me, her voice full of panic.
Taking her wrist, I guide her around until she's standing directly in front of me. With my palms, I cup her face and lean down and kiss her nose.
“No one can hate you, least of all my parents.”
“I think your dad does.”
“He hates everyone. The only person he likes is my mother.”
She bores her gaze into mine. “I don’t think that’s true. He cares about you.”
A surge of surprise hits me. “What?”
She places her hands on mine on her face. “He seemed worried about you when he suggested that you take me back so my parents wouldn’t cause problems for you.”
“He said that to hurt me.”
She shakes her head. “No, he didn’t. He was looking out for you.”
With a sigh, I decide not to argue with her over this.
She doesn’t know my father like I do. He’s known to be cold, ruthless and powerful around the world.
And that’s exactly how he is at home. I only know that side of him, but lately he’s been interfering into my matters, and that is every bit strange.
Because all my life he’s kept a wall between us.
He acted like he didn’t care about me and that’s buried deep inside me.
The same goes for my mother. She might have been not cruel but she has always kept distance between us.
They’re both the same.
I asked Hope’s mother why she made her leave and she gave me a reason.
I wonder what reason my parents have for abandoning me.
Why did they dig a hole in my chest that has never filled.
I’ve tried to stuff things into it — making up excuses and conjuring up valid reasons — but nothing fits into it.
It’s like a puzzle piece that I keep inserting but the corners are jagged or the size is too small.
“We should go downstairs.” Rose tugs me out of the room and I follow her.
My head has been in shambles since I had that conversation with her mother.
In her own twisted, unreasonable way, she tried to protect her daughter.
I hate her and what she said hasn’t changed my mind or anything, but it’s making me think that perhaps there is a will that drives people to do something and just because you don’t know it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
Hope definitely thinks about why her mother kicked her out of nowhere, but she’s unaware that her mother was protecting her in her own strange way.
I want to tell her, but she’ll start overthinking and for a little while I want the machines in her head to not overwork.
She cares about people and gives them a benefit of the doubt — something she shouldn’t do.
She should stay away from people who hurt her, but I know she isn’t that kind of person.
I was mean to her in the beginning, because of how she made me feel, and took it out on her in words that were cold.
But she still talked to me, stood in front of me and was kind to me — all of the things that she didn’t have to do.
She was nice to me and wasn’t afraid of me.
Her reluctance to not back down made me like her.
And because she’s beautiful. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
We get to the floor and she stops in her tracks. I feel the tremors running through her hand from where she is holding mine.
She’s nervous.
I give her hand a squeeze which makes her look up at me. “Relax. It’s okay.”
“What if she — ”
“Nothing is going to happen because I’m here with you.”
Doubt flickers through her gaze and pierces my heart like an arrow.
Titling her chin up with my other hand, I say, “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” She doesn’t even think.
“Then trust me when I say everything will be okay.”
Interlocking our fingers, I raise our joined hands to my lips and place a soft kiss on the back of her hand.
She smiles and I feel my heart grow a thousand times more. It’s rare to see happiness on her face. But those fleeting moments are like shooting stars and I savor every one.
We walk into the kitchen where Mom is. Still dressed in her designer dress, she stands on the stove, stirring the ladle in the pot with the steam wafting off.
“Sit down. I’m making chicken soup,” she says, throwing a smile over her shoulder.
Hope sits down on the stool, her timid gaze locking on me.
I slide into the seat next to her and lean down to whisper in her ear. “Do you want chocolate?”
“No, I’m fine. I don’t want you to go out and leave me alone here.”
A frown embeds between my eyebrows. “I won’t be going out.”
She studies me. “Um, you don’t eat chocolate so you can’t have it here.”
“I don’t eat it, but you do.” I abandon my seat without a second thought, heading straight for the drawer where the chocolates are kept. I grab one, quickly return to my seat, and settle in.
“You keep chocolates in your house for me?” Surprise laced in her voice.
“I keep a lot of things here because of you,” I tell her.
Her eyes soften and gratitude fills them. “Thank you.”
A wave of discomfort washes over me, seeing that look on her. I feel unworthy of her because she is too good and deserves the absolute fucking best. But I want to be that person for her so I keep trying.
“Yeah, whatever,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair as heat prickles the tip of my ears.
“You really are something,” she whispers underneath her breath, but I hear it.
No, you are something. I want to say.
“Make sure you don’t eat the entire thing. People say my chicken soup is the best.” Mom interrupts us and we both turn to her. She has a teasing smile playing on her lips that screams trouble.
The three of us are in the same room and my stomach churns with nervous anticipation. I don’t know what she’s going to say. All I know is, I don’t want her to hurt my girlfriend.
“I’m sorry.” Hope quickly closes the chocolate bar and sets it on the island.
Disappointment twists Mom’s features. “No, it’s alright. You can have it.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods. “Absolutely. The soup is going to take a while, anyway.”
Getting the assurance from her, she reaches for the chocolate bar and takes a small bite, then covers her mouth as she devours it. Even a stranger can tell that she is uncomfortable, but she is trying.
“So, how was the date?” Mom asks, glancing between us.
I shoot her a glare for bringing it up.
“What? You didn’t tell me anything. I’m curious.”
“I didn’t tell you for a reason.”
She smiles, unbothered by my reply. “Well, I’m asking Hope.”
Hope snorts, drawing my attention back to her.
We make eye contact.
You don’t have to tell her anything if you don’t want to.
I don’t mind if you don’t.
I sigh and give her nod, letting her decide whatever she wants to share with my obnoxious mother.
“We went to an aquarium,” My girlfriend says with pride.
Mom grins, staring at her starry-eyed. “How was it? What did you see? Tell me everything.”
Rose talks excitedly about our date, I sit and listen, absorbing every word. The joy in her voice fills me with quiet pride, reassuring me that I did well. Giving her the best first romantic date was exactly what I wanted.
Fuck. I can’t believe it.
Love and feelings were something I never thought would happen to me.
But it took one girl to change everything.
I don’t just want her.
I need her.
I’ve fallen hard for her.
And it’s not just that I’ve lost my head. I’ve also lost my control and senses.
Only she matters to me.
Turning my head, I watch my mother in detail, studying how she absorbs everything that Rose tells her. She looks genuinely happy that we’re together and had a perfect date.
The weight in my chest shifts a little, making it easier to breathe. The hate and resentment I possess for her morphs into ashes by some small portion.
Seeing her care for the person that I care the most about makes me hate her a little less.
“When are you going on the second date?” Mom asks.
Rose blushes and looks over at me. “Um…”
“Soon,” I answer for her.