Chapter 24 #2
"Hey," Tess says gently. "At the store yesterday… is this what you meant? You said, I think I'm different enough. Did you mean because it's just you two?"
Again, Ruthie doesn't answer aloud, but I can picture her nodding on the other side of the door.
"It never really bothered me before," she argues. "But I think I'm realizing that it's not exactly… normal. Everyone else has a mom and a dad—even if they don't live together. Or they at least have brothers or sisters. Here it's just… us."
My stomach drops as I brace my weight against the island.
"I get that," Tess reassures. "But also… what even is normal? There are five kids in my family." She laughs. "I don't know many others with seven people in one house."
Ruthie lets out the faintest laugh.
"But that doesn't mean different is bad. It's cool, remember?"
I hear a deep inhale and mimic it. "I know, but I'm older now…" Ruthie hesitates before continuing. "What if there's… stuff… that I don't really want to talk to Dad about?"
I hang my head, my eyes falling to the floor searching for my heart that undoubtedly dropped there.
"Well, then you talk to your Aunt Alex or our friend Brooke." There's a pause before she finishes—a break in the voice that's unknowingly soothing both of us. "Or you can always talk to me."
"I know," Ruthie whispers.
"But your dad will always listen," Tess reminds her. "And I can promise you he'll try his best with whatever it is."
My throat grows tight.
"You're lucky, you know," she adds. "He's pretty special."
My legs go weak.
"He is a Gator," Ruthie quips.
"Yeah." Tess laughs. "But that's not what I meant."
Pride rises in my chest, rivaled by a feeling I can only describe as need.
To hug Ruthie.
To see Tessa.
To thank her once again. But dammit if I don't want to do it without words this time.
"I'm glad you're here," Ruthie says, her tone brighter than it's been.
Tess sucks in a breath. "Me too."
There's a silence I imagine is them hugging, and I fill it with thoughts—some I shouldn't have but can't stop.
What if Tessa wasn't here?
Will Ruthie be okay?
Did she mean the things she said?
Tess speaks again. "You ready to go back up there?"
Ruthie sighs. "What if she keeps bringing it up?"
"Then you tell her that families come in all shapes and sizes, and yours is perfect exactly as it is. And if she still has a problem with that…" She pauses, considering her next words carefully. "Then you tell her we'd be happy to call her mother to come pick her up."
That earns a snort from Ruthie, and one hell of a smile from me.
"Thanks, Tess," my daughter whispers.
Yeah… Thanks, Tess.
"Always," she says simply.
There's ruffling, and reality sends a panic through me as I dive toward the pantry. Ruthie can't know I was listening.
I throw the sliding door open and bury my head in the shelves as the crack in the bathroom door widens.
"Dad?" Ruthie asks, her eyes wide with nerves.
"There you are," I say nonchalantly, pulling out the tub of Cheese Balls. "I was just grabbing the snacks."
Her face settles, and I take that as a sign that my performance was convincing enough. "I'll take them," she says, leaping for the container. She throws her free arm around my waist and squeezes tight—tighter than usual.
"Thanks, Dad."
I force the lump in my throat back down as tears glaze my eyes. "Happy birthday, Roo."
She smiles up at me, my little girl again, then heads toward the stairs, snack in hand. I watch her go until she rounds the corner and the pitter-patter of her feet taps up each step.
"So… I'm guessing you heard all that?" Tess's voice calls me back as she finally leaves the bathroom, her expression knowing.
I stand straighter, placing my palm flat against the island, trying not to notice her hair—down again—slipping forward to frame her face. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Her eyes are soft, but not pitying, and her lips curl just slightly.
"A little," I admit.
"Well, good." I raise my brows. "I think she needed to say it," she explains. "And you needed to hear it."
Her words are raw but real, and they hit me right in the ribs, making it even harder to breathe than it already is with her standing this close. With her looking like that.
"She's lucky." She takes half a casual step closer, and I silently beg her to do it again. "To have someone who shows up. Who listens." Her eyes meet mine honestly. "Who would do anything for her."
A nervous chuckle escapes me. "I don't always get it right."
She shakes her head, moving forward again and leaning her hip on the island. "It doesn't matter."
Something in me cracks, but it doesn't feel broken.
It feels like relief.
"Thank you, Tess," I finally say aloud.
She laughs softly. "You don't have to thank me… again. I care about her." I smile and she swallows. "I care about both of you."
I freeze.
Both—
Ruthie.
Me.
Unknowingly, I take a step, like I'm being pulled to her. Because I am.
It feels so natural that I barely notice until we're just a few feet apart. I stop myself before getting too close, but then she mimics me.
One step.
Two.
With nothing but a few inches of blank space between us, I search her face.
What is she thinking?
What does this mean?
Just when it seems I've come up short, her eyes not giving much away, they fall to my lips. It's brief, but it's there—until she catches herself and looks away, swallowing like she's trying to forget it.
I should let her.
I should forget too.
I should walk away, grabbing onto the thread of the old me that's still barely holding on. It's clear Ruthie needs me now more than ever. And what I need is less change in my life.
But I can't think past the moment—not to anything but the one in her hotel room at least. So, instead of moving back, I give in.
I surrender.
I stupidly reach for her, praying to God she won't pull away.
When she doesn't, I slide my hand into the hair that still throws me every time it's down and brush my thumb gently past her pink cheek.
"Tess…" I whisper, but it's not just her name. It's a question. A confession. A warning—for both of us.
She looks back up at me, her eyes full of hope and desire—her mask of worry slipping slightly.
"We shouldn't," she says softly. Unconvincingly.
I let my hand fall, running my fingers along the outside of her arm. "I know. Trust me."
She sucks in a breath, dragging me in. "I could leave," she offers. "If that's easier."
I shake my head without a thought because it's not. I don't want her to leave more than I don't want to mess this up. Because maybe nothing about this feels easy.
But everything feels right.
Relief flickers on her face as she leans in slightly.
I weave our hands together as my fingertips reach hers, and when she squeezes back, all of my hesitation melts away—or hides at least. For now.
I slide my other palm past her jaw—slow, careful, terrified of doing it wrong after all this time.
Of doing it at all. She parts her lips for me, one sweet breath calling me closer.
I lean down, unhurried, savoring the way she's peering up.
Yet, just when our mouths might touch, I pause, second-guessing everything.
But Tess doesn't.
She presses her lips to mine, gently at first, like we're both afraid we'll break something fragile. But when she sinks into me, I slip my hand into her hair and pin her to me. The move lights a fire in her as she grabs at the hem of my shirt with her free hand, holding onto it like a lifeline.
I exhale past our kiss. The waiting, the concern, the years I never let myself have this—all of it gone. Tessa lets go of my hand, and I miss it instantly, but when she wraps her arms around my neck, it's more than I could ask for. I scoop her up and sit her on the island.
She moans into me when I settle hard between her legs, and I know instantly that I'll never unhear it.
"Did you mean it?" I ask, ripping myself back, suddenly needing to know.
She parts her lips, but instead of her voice floating between us, giggles erupt from upstairs reminding me of… everything but this.
I sigh, but somehow my shoulders feel heavier. "Don't answer that," I grind out, reality settling as I run my hand through my hair.
"Liam, I—"
"Shit, I'm sorry." I push away from the island, turning around to face away from her. I can't look at her and say these next words simultaneously. "I shouldn't have done that."
I drop my hands to my hips, hanging my head and trying to decide which I regret more—kissing Tessa or stopping it.
Before I can choose, a dull thud hits the floor. I snap my head up, freezing when I realize where it came from.
"You didn't do anything," Tessa says, her voice close. I spin around hesitantly, and when her eyes meet mine, I almost sink right back into her. "Not alone at least."
My lids close slowly in desperation. Please don't fight this.
"Tessa, I—I can't do this."
Her face goes white as she avoids my gaze.
"I want to," I admit, tilting her chin so she finds me again. "It's just…"
"Complicated." Her voice is low, her breath shallow.
"Exactly."
"I get it," she says. "I agree, actually."
"But please stay," I beg, her acknowledgement unsettling. "Don't move out. Stay here with us. Just… stay."
She peers up at me, unsure, and I latch onto the one part of the truth that I can admit aloud. "Ruthie needs you."
I need you.
She hesitates for what feels like forever, thinking. Then, she nods. "Okay," she agrees, a faint smile on the lips I'll never forget the taste of. "Yeah, I mean, if Ruthie needs me then, I'll stay."
I nod once. "Good. For Ruthie."
She sucks in a quick breath, and I fight the urge to steal it. "For Ruthie."