20. Rowan
20
ROWAN
“M om! Hurry up!” Hannah skipped along a few steps ahead of me, somehow managing not to spill any of her popcorn out of the large bucket. How did I let her talk me into buying a large when it easily fed a family of four?
“Would you relax?” I asked, already exhausted by the almost manic energy she’d bombarded me with all day. “The movie doesn’t start for another five minutes. And there’s going to be twenty minutes of previews. I bet you.” I had only reluctantly agreed to go to a movie Saturday afternoon after my first week back in the office. Not that I would ever let her see how reluctant I was. As far as she was concerned, I was starting to get back to my old self, though nothing was further from the truth.
She had always brought so much to my life and still did, but now there was a raw, aching hole where Spencer used to be. Before this, there was always the secret hope that one day he would come back to me. Now, I understood how long I had nurtured that fantasy without admitting it to myself. The possibility had always been there and had granted me strength in my darkest moments.
Where was I going to get that strength from now? I had to be strong for my girl. I would have to learn to be strong without hope burning in my chest.
Hannah held open the door to the theater at the end of the hall, one of a dozen in the multiplex where they were playing the latest superhero movie. She was starting to get into them, probably because the other kids in her class were as well. I was already in the theater and standing beside the back row when I realized something. “Why is it empty?” I whispered.
Why was I whispering? There was nobody here to hear me.
“I don’t know. This is the time on the tickets.” She showed them to me, and sure enough, we were in the right theater at the right time.
“We just got lucky. We get the whole theater to ourselves.” Though I doubted it. Somebody else had to show up. Somebody who shared my belief that it didn’t really make a difference how early you showed up to a movie, especially now that theaters like this one let us pick our seats in advance.
We were in one of the center rows, our seats toward the middle. “Now let’s be careful with the popcorn,” I warned, remembering the way she threw up after the last movie we went to. “Once we get halfway down this huge bucket, I’m going to set it aside for a little while.”
“It was only a dollar more than the medium size,” she reminded me, exasperated.
“And that’s how they get you to spend more money.” Wow. I was sounding more and more like my own parents every day. What a pleasant thought to add to the other pleasant thoughts I’d been entertaining all week.
It wasn’t long before the lights went down, and the screen lit up. I settled in and prepared for two hours of mind-numbing explosions and CGI effects. Hannah vibrated with excitement in her seat. I had no idea these movies meant so much to her. Apparently, I needed to reacquaint myself with my daughter after weeks spent with my head in the clouds.
Instead of a Coming Attractions title card, the screen went white. Animated letters appeared against the background as if some invisible finger was writing them in anold-fashioned script.
Once upon a time…
I looked at Hannah, who didn’t seem confused.
The letters dissolved, replaced by a two-dimensional animated girl with blonde hair and blue eyes who stood on a stage, illuminated by spotlights. A deep voice filled the air, coming from the speakers set up along the walls. “Once upon a time, there was a girl. Beautiful, talented, with big dreams.”
I had to be imagining things. More than two weeks of broken sleep and stress cleaning had left me delirious. Maybe I had no business driving home because I would’ve sworn I was listening to Spencer.
The silhouetted audience sitting in front of the animated girl got on their feet and applauded, throwing roses onto the stage. “She moved to Hollywood and worked hard,” the narrator continued as the background switched to one featuring the Hollywood sign.
This was starting to get weird. Again, I looked at Hannah, but she could only stare at the screen, her eyes wide and shining. The picture changed, and now I was looking at a bustling club. People moved in silhouette, and voices overlapped in the background while music played. That blonde girl stood behind a bar, serving drinks.
“One night…” the narrator, who had no right to sound so much like Spencer, continued. “She met a boy.” A male figure slid into the frame, leaning against the bar, looking smug. I couldn’t believe it was a coincidence that he, too, had blond hair and blue eyes, much like Spencer.
“That boy was young and arrogant and full of himself, but he saw something special about the girl. She was beautiful and funny and kind. He felt like he had known her all his life.”
Tears filled my eyes as a montage of quick, animated clips passed— two of them in a jet, flying over San Francisco Bay, one on the beach, where he tried to teach her to surf, and another eating ice cream on the Santa Monica Pier.
“It was all magic… until one night,” the narrator continued in a darker, somber voice. “The boy made a mistake he would regret for the rest of his life. He was reckless and stupid and trying to show off for the girl he was in love with.”
I tensed all over at the sight of a sports car zipping off into the distance. A tear rolled down my cheek.
The screen went dark, but the voice went on. “He tried so hard to find her after that, but other people got in the way. What he didn’t know was the girl had a secret even she didn’t know about until after they weren’t together anymore.”
A new image filled the screen, this time featuring a little baby with wispy, golden curls. I laughed through my tears.
“And after that, the beautiful, brave girl worked so hard to make a big life for her baby.” Again, there was a montage of images—studying late at night, taking exams while bleary-eyed, graduating in a cap and gown, beaming from ear to ear.
Finally, cartoon Rowan stood tall and proud in a fitted suit, hands on her hips like a superhero. “She was incredible. She helped people. And when the boy who hurt her came back into her life, he knew one thing right away before he could admit it to himself.”
Cartoon Spencer slid back into the frame, standing close with an arm around my cartoon waist. “He wanted to try again. To do it right this time. And when he found out about his beautiful, brilliant little girl, he knew he wanted them to be a family.” Cartoon Hannah popped up in front of us, arms folded, smirking. It was incredibly adorable.
Through the tears blurring my vision, I watched a figure emerge from behind a curtain alongside the screen. Spencer held a microphone in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other. His script, I assumed. He dropped it, coming to a stop square in the center of the floor and looked up at me. “He messed up. He should have let her tell her side of the story. He was too hurt and confused, and he took it out on her. He should have known better than to think she would do anything to hurt him or anybody else. And he was so, so sorry. He would’ve done anything for another chance because he loved her. He had always loved her.”
Nobody told me this movie would be a tearjerker. I would’ve brought more tissues. Tears soaked into my T-shirt by the time I stood, holding onto the seat in front of me for dear life while I tried to process what to do next. What to say. How to feel.
“Mom?” Hannah stood beside me, nudging me gently. “This is the part where you forgive him.”
She was right. This was the point in the script where I was supposed to profess my love and leave everything else behind. What a shame real life was more complicated.
He looked like he was holding his breath down there, eyes glued to me. Was it wrong that I wanted him to suffer a little? I couldn’t forget the things he said. The way he said them. Furious, spiteful.
Now, he was a man whose life hung in the balance. He was hanging on to my every move. “Rowan?” he silently mouthed. “Please.”
I could be spiteful too. Would it make me happy, though? Wasn’t happiness better than balancing the scales? The man I loved was standing in front of me, and I loved him too much to spend another minute questioning myself.
My heart led me to him, out of the row, and down to where he stood waiting with his arms open. Jumping into them was both the scariest and most natural thing I could’ve done. Trusting him, forgiving him. There was no other choice because I loved him too. I always had.
“Can I assume this means I’m forgiven?” he whispered in my ear, squeezing me tight.
“You’re forgiven,” I whispered back, tightening my grip around his neck. “So long as you never ever speak to me like that again. I’m forgiving, but I’m not a doormat.”
“I swear. Never again.” His lips brushed my ear. “I am so sorry.”
I believed him. This was the sort of happy ending I had dreamed about all my life. Only I wasn’t acting it out for an audience.
Or was I? Applause rang out from the back of the theater. I looked up and shielded my eyes, trying to see who was up there. Mom and Dad waved, and so did my sister. We had exchanged dozens, maybe hundreds of text messages since Sunday, clearing the air and understanding each other better than we had before. She looked just as happy as our parents. Maybe even more so.
“How did you do this?” I asked, laughing and crying at the same time.
“It helps when your best friend owns a studio with an animation division. He owed me at least half a dozen favors,” Spencer explained, chuckling. “But I made sure everybody got paid double. What do you think?”
“I think it’s very sweet that our daughter now knows where she came from,” I pointed out. “And I think I love you. No. I know I love you.”
His gaze softened as he tucked a finger under my chin, raising it until we were eye-to-eye. “Thank God because I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t.”
“Kiss!” Hannah squealed. “Aren’t you going to kiss her?”
Once we finished laughing, I wound my arms around his neck. “One thing you’re going to learn about her. She’s impossible to say no to.”
“Like her mother,” he murmured, kissing me. It was soft and sweet, full of the promise of a future. Our future.
* * *
Normally, I wouldn’t have given up a Saturday night with Hannah for the world. But tonight, there was a lot of talking to do. Planning. Not to mention making up for lost time. So when Mom offered to take Hannah, giving us time alone together, I couldn’t say no, especially when Hannah seemed so damn determined to send us on our way. Spencer promised to pick her up in the morning so we could go to breakfast. The simplest thing, yet it meant the world.
The day had started with me forcing myself out of bed, reminding myself that I owed it to my daughter to be present. Now, we were in the elevator up to Spencer’s penthouse. I was holding the hand of the man I loved, a man who loved me, and this was the first day of the rest of our lives together. I had no doubt this was it.
This was real.
This was always.
It was clear from the second we were inside the apartment that conversation would have to wait. His hands were on me right away, pulling me close, running over my hips and ass as he lowered his head for a kiss so much deeper and hotter than the one we had exchanged in the theater. The sort of kiss that made my toes curl and my pussy moisten.
He picked me up, and I wrapped myself around him, lost in the kiss, lost in him as he stumbled his way through his living room and down the hall into the bedroom.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he grunted out, his body stretched out on top of mine once we reached the bed, his mouth doing unspeakable things to every inch of skin he found. I made it easier, unbuttoning my jeans between kisses and pushing them over my hips and down my thighs before pulling his polo shirt over his head so I could feast on the masterpiece that was his chiseled body. For a long time, it was enough to explore each other, to kiss and caress. My body lit up with more than pleasure. It was pure joy. I was back where I belonged.
He worshiped me, honored me, kneeled between my legs, and slid away my panties before kissing a path up my thighs, spreading them. His deep, contented sigh made goose bumps pebble my skin. “How did I ever convince myself I could live without this?” he asked, slowly running the flat of his tongue over my slit.
Pretty soon, there was nothing I could do but close my eyes and give myself over to him, to this. The tip of his tongue flicked a quick rhythm against my clit, his throaty groans telling me how much he loved tasting me, making me roll my hips and grind against his face. He was right. I couldn’t have lived without this.
“God, you’re so damn good at this,” I whispered, running my fingers through his hair while I held his head in place.
The heat built the way it always did. I trusted it and went with it, knowing Spencer wouldn’t make me regret it. His tongue moved faster, his deep grunts vibrating through me. “Yes… don’t stop, I’m gonna come…” My legs clenched around his head, and I squealed at the height of the wave before it crashed, and there was nothing but sweet, warm bliss. All of the tension of the past couple of weeks dissolved.
It wasn’t enough. Only a drop in the bucket compared to how desperately I needed him. “Come here.” I held my arms out, and he crawled up the length of my body, kissing me slowly as we continued undressing each other. I would never tire of his beauty, his firm muscles and strong arms that made me feel so safe.
That wasn’t what was on my mind by the time he unrolled a condom and pulled me across the bed until my ass was on the edge. I squealed with laughter while he braced my legs against his chest, standing in front of me.
There was no laughing when he drove himself deep in one punishing thrust, almost without warning. I wasted no time using the leverage he had given me, pushing against his chest with my legs, fucking him while he fucked me. There would be plenty of time for making love. This was about giving ourselves what we’d both craved for too long. I knew it without the words being spoken, one of those things that didn’t need to be said.
“F-fuck me… Spencer,” I whispered, the words pouring out, my chest heaving, my body flushing, and my soul singing. Every nerve in my body was on fire, but it was a blaze I didn’t want to extinguish. Not ever.
I was already halfway to another orgasm when he added a thumb to my clit, stroking it in time with the deep, hard strokes he delivered with his dick. “Fuck, that’s good! Don’t stop!” I whimpered. I was too happy. It felt too good. I thought we would never do this again.
“So damn tight… your pussy is squeezing me, ready to come for me…” he gritted out, his teeth clenched, grunting like a wild, dangerous animal. An animal who wanted nothing more than to slam himself into me until my legs shook and I sobbed his name.
It hit me like a speeding train, shattering me. “Spencer!” And then I couldn’t hear anything over the blood roaring in my ears. Tears rolled down the sides of my face, but I was laughing, too, completely lost in emotions so intense I didn’t know what to do with them. The floodgates opened, and there was no closing them, but it was good, so good.
He finished with a roar, and it was even better to curl up against him once he collapsed onto the bed. To feel his heart beating under my palm when I touched it to his chest. To listen as his breathing slowed the way mine did.
“Thank you,” I whispered once I had regained the ability to speak without panting.
“For that? You never have to thank me for that.” With an arm under his head, he smirked at me. “It’s not like I don’t get anything out of it.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I told him, laughing softly. “Thank you for today. Thank you for going to all that effort to do something special.”
“It was all Hannah’s idea.” When I arched an eyebrow, he shrugged. “I mean it. We brainstormed a few ideas, and she said something about happily ever after, just like in a movie.”
“Wait. Are you serious? I thought you were joking!” I propped myself up on my elbow, staring at him in shock. “She helped you plan that?”
“She reached out to me earlier in the week and asked me when we were going to make up. You aren’t supposed to know about that,” he added, wincing.
“I guess I have her to thank too.” The pieces were starting to come together and form the bigger picture. “I guess that’s when you two shared the whole father-daughter thing?”
He nodded, his grin widening to a fond smile. “She’s a miracle, that kid. Did we get lucky or what?”
The fact that he used the word we made tears fill my eyes again. I had done so much crying lately, but these were the kind I didn’t mind shedding.
I didn’t mind staying up through the night, either, talking until dawn, planning, laughing, and dreaming about the future. I had spent such a long time dreaming alone.
I wouldn’t be alone again. Not ever.
And that was the best gift anybody could ask for.