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We claim opposite sides of the glass coffee table, grouping on the leather sofas facing each other.
Mom is still rubbing her hand. I’m not at all surprised since that was the first time she’s ever struck another person. Paloma Delgado considers violence distasteful and unnecessary when words are more effective. Watching her slap Iris was a thing of beauty. I’m so proud of her.
“All right you two, talk.”
Rhys and I exchange glances. He’s still holding my hand, his fingers intertwined with mine in his lap.
“We were waiting until tomorrow to have this conversation,” Rhys says at last. “We didn’t want ... this.”
“How long?” Dad demands.
“Two years,” I whisper as Rhys says, “Nine months.”
Both our parents raise an eyebrow.
“Not long,” I correct, deciding to keep things as simple as possible. “We only just made this official.”
“Two years?” Mom cut in. “How...?”
I dart a glance up at Rhys before murmuring, “Rhys is ... was Atticus.”
“The masked weirdo?” Oz barks.
“Not a weirdo, but yes,” Rhys grumbles.
“How did this even happen?” Mom cries, waving between us.
“That is a very long, very complicated story.” I force myself to take a breath. “And it’s not important. What is important is that we haven’t done anything ... too disrespectful under this roof.”
What I had hoped would be assuring only seems to upset the two. Their exchanged glances were panicked with a tinge of horror like either they hadn’t thought of that or they were trying to figure out what that meant.
“I love her,” Rhys says before anyone can utter another word. “None of this was intentional. I had no idea I would wake up one morning, look up and realize the person who makes me feel whole is the same person I’ve been living with. It surprised me too, even more so when she returned my feelings.”
I rub the back of his hand gently, lungs too tight for words as he voices everything in my head.
“We get this isn’t conventional. We know it’s going to be hard for a lot of people to understand and accept, but ... I’ve asked Addie to marry me.”
Mom cries out. Her hands fly up to her mouth, her face torn between excitement and uncertainty as her green eyes lock with mine. It’s taking all my resolve not to jump up and run to her. To not let her pull me into her arms and share my happiness the way I know we both want to.
“We were going to wait until after your party to talk. To explain,” Rhys continues in his calm, even tone. “We want your blessing. It might seem like a big ask right now, but you’re both two of the most important people in our lives and we don’t want to lose you.”
The copper tang of blood is filling my mouth from the gash I’m cutting into my bottom lip. I barely notice as I watch my parents exchange glances, their expressions so guarded. So set.Even with the tears glistening in Mom’s eyes, her features are a mask I can’t read.
Please, please don’t let me lose them,I beg the heavens. It would destroy me. I know I wouldn’t survive it. I can already feel the brewing bubble of devastation creeping up my chest.
Rhys brings my hand to his lips. He kisses the back gently and I realize I’m crushing his fingers, but I can’t unlock my joints.
Finally, after eons of suffering, Mom and Oz face us. They seem to take a unifying breath that steals every drop of air in the room, leaving my lungs burning while I wait for them to rip my world apart.
“We guessed something was going on when you went off into the woods in the middle of the night and didn’t come back until dawn,” Oz says at long last. “If that hadn’t been hint enough, neither of you are very good at being subtle. You arriving together. Rhys asking for the land to build a house. The murder trial I thought I would need to put together to defend you once you murdered Michael with your steak knife. Not to mention, I could have grilled last night’s BBQ off the heat you two were giving off since you arrived.” I would have died of mortification right there if he wasn’t still talking. “But you’re right, this is not conventional. People will disapprove and will have a lot to say on the matter. You grew up together. That alone will have people speculating.” He turns his dark eyes to Mom. She meets his gaze and gives a slight nod. “But fuck people. I make a living pissing people off anyway. If they don’t like it, they can take a long walk off a short bridge.”
I understand everything he’s saying. The words are clear and concise, but a pulse of panic is pounding between my ears, and I can’t process it until Mom is pushing to her feet, arms open.
I am tearing off the sofa with a sob and slamming my body into hers. My arms clamp hard around her solid warmth,sucking in her sweet scent of orchids. Her hold loops around me tight enough to cut off my oxygen even while I’m already struggling to contain my relief.
“I was so scared,” I choke out into her shoulder.
She shushes me gently, hands stroking my back and hair. She kisses my wet cheeks and holds me until Oz moves to take her place.
