I had nothing to say to that.
“After what you said at the cemetery, we were furious with you,” my mother said. “We didn’t understand why you would tell such lies. But then…” She looked at my father. “Your father said we should at least look into it. So we called Essex’s old classmates, the ones we still knew how to reach, and even some of his old teachers, and asked them. All of them said the same thing. That he was the class clown, always the first to make a joke or pull a prank. But they also said he was rash, arrogant, and a bully.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You believe me now?”
For the first time since he’d come in, my father met my eyes. “I do.”
The use of the singular didn’t escape my notice, but I would take my wins. “Thank you.”
“Not something you should ever thank me for. I failed you as a father. Spectacularly.”
My throat tightened. Not in a million years had I expected to hear those words out of my father’s mouth. But hell if I would deny it and, by doing so, diminish my pain. “You did.”
He didn’t wince, holding my gaze. “I know.”
I didn’t have to reach for Quillon’s hand because he already took mine, threading our fingers together in quiet comfort. “Why?”
I couldn’t even find the words to make a whole sentence out of it, but apparently, my father understood. “You were always different from Essex. You were so smart, even as a kid, and it was easy to see he felt threatened by you. You could read when you were four, beat him in any board game at six when he was thirteen, and you outpaced him at everything except sports. We felt sorry for him. It’s no excuse, but that’s how it started. We felt sorry that his younger brother was doing better in school than he was, so we tried to make up for it.”
“By forcing me to make myself smaller while you exalted him,” I said bitterly.
“Yes, though we didn’t see it as such at the time. And then it became a habit, and when he died and you lived…”
“You blamed me for being alive and beating him even at that.”
“Yes. I can’t tell you how wrong that was, and I’ll never forgive myself, but yes.”
Here was the answer I had been searching for all that time, the why of what I had done to deserve to be treated like this. Nothing. I had done nothing except exist and be smart. I had survived, and Essex hadn’t, and that had been it. I’d known all along. Still, sweet relief filled me. “Thank you for being honest.”
My mother cleared her throat. “Do you think that…over time, perhaps…you could forgive us?”
Quillon squeezed my hand. If he was worried I’d impulsively assure them that, yes, everything would be hunky-dory, he was wrong. I wasn’t tempted in the least to make that kind of promise. “I don’t know.”
My mother inhaled as if she wanted to say something else, but my father spoke up. “We respect that. We’re not in a position to put any demands or pressure on you, so we won’t. You know where to find us if you’re willing to stay in touch. If not, we won’t bother you.”
He struggled to his feet. “Thank you for listening to us.”
I had no answer.
“When we heard about your kidnapping…” He took a deep breath. “We were worried sick about you. I know you’ll find that hard to believe, but we were. It drove home what it would cost us if we lost you too.”
They had already lost me a long time ago, but I didn’t say another word as they left. Quillon closed the front door behind them with a soft click. My head was spinning after this unexpected development. “I don’t know how to feel,” I said to Quillon, who pulled me in for one of his long, tight hugs.
“You don’t have to feel anything, nerdy. Give yourself time to process. This came out of nowhere.”
It had. “I never expected this.”
“I know. Me neither. So let’s let it sink in for a while before you make any decisions, hmm?”
“Yeah.”
I snugged closer, and a soft chuckle reverberated through Quillon’s chest. “I know what you need.”
He did. We’d both discovered my response of wanting sex after emotional upheaval. Or maybe needing it was a better expression, a more accurate formulation. I needed to feel Quillon’s love for me in moments like this, and he understood. I’d even talked about it with Clarissa, who had assured me there was nothing unhealthy about it as long as I was honest with myself and Quillon. And as long as he could say no.
Well, duh. We were talking about a man who never did anything he didn’t want to. When he dug his heels in, good luck with that. But I loved him for it because he was unafraid to stand up to me, even when I outargued him.
“I need you,” I whispered.
“And you have me, nerdy. You’ll always have me as long as I live.”
“Then take me to bed, Quill. Show me you love me.”
He gently lifted my chin and kissed me tenderly. “Always and forever.”
