Page 13 of All the Beautiful Things
After Lilly ran out of my apartment, almost tripping over her feet and falling on her ass on the way out, I threw Melissa’s photograph against the wall, shattering the glass into a thousand jagged pieces and leaving a dent in my wall.
Which was pretty damn perfect, considering that was exactly how I felt. Jagged, broken, shattered, and dented.
I’d paced. Gave her an hour before hoping like hell she’d answer the door and at least give me a chance to explain. No such fucking luck today.
Which was why after I stood outside her door, pounding on it for a good ten minutes and earning glares from a few neighbors who’d opened their doors, I grabbed my keys and hightailed my ass over to Dad’s.
Screw Thanksgiving.
I wanted Lilly.
Jenna and Brandon had given us our space, hiding out in the kitchen but Brandon was just as upset. He’d hated hiding this as much as Dad and I have. From picture frames and stories we could tell and those we couldn’t, all centered around Melissa and how awesome she was.
I’d only been able to give Lilly half of myself because without Melissa, before Lilly, that was who I’d been.
Half alive.
Lilly brought that part back out in me with her caution and her smiles and the way she gave herself to me.
And last night… the final tether holding me back frayed and snapped. I was inside of her body when she’d only given herself to one other boy before the ramifications of making love to her became a reality in my mind.
God damn it.
I’d made love to her last night. I’d needed that connection to her, to the feelings she had for me I knew were growing as obvious as knowing the sun would rise the next morning.
Except this morning? My world blew to smithereens before the sun barely breached the horizon.
“Shit.” I slammed my hands to my face as the magnitude of this wracked my body.
Even my damn bones ached.
Dad came to me and settled his hand on my shoulder cautiously. Probably afraid after all these years of playful threats to punch him, I might finally make good on them. When I didn’t shove him away, he curled his fingers around my shoulder and shook me gently. “Let’s give her some time. A day or two. We’ll figure this out and we’ll fix it. I’ll tell her everything.”
“It’s my mess to clean up.” I didn’t tell anyone why she was in my home so early this morning, but they knew. “I just… I need to see her. Know she’s okay.”
“And she will be. She’s a fighter. But let’s give her some time to cool down and then she’ll talk. I have no doubt.”
“Always so damn sure of yourself,” I muttered and finally dropped my hands to peer at him. He looked tired. Age and stress and worry had dug deep lines into his skin over the years, but this morning, he looked frailer than I’d ever seen him. “You okay?”
“I have lived a lot of years loving those who don’t believe they deserve it or refuse to reach for it. This girl is not those. She’ll understand.”
I arched a brow filled with disbelief at him.
“Eventually,” he amended and shook my shoulder again before letting go. “I feel it deep in my bones.”
It wasn’t often my dad was wrong, not about this. He had wisdom and experience and he knew Lilly better, in some ways, than even I did.
“I’ll give her a day or two.” I relented only because chasing her down would only further shove her away.
“And I’ll be the one to tell her. It’s not your mess, it’s mine and she deserves to hear it from me.”
“Dad—”
“No.” He cut me off with a shake of his head and a lifted hand. “I pulled you into this. I was there all those nights Melissa came to me. I’ll tell her and explain.”
“You’ve been through enough.”
“And it’s not your job to protect me. I’ll take care of this.”
