Rex (36 page)

“It’s not your fault though,” he admits, finally looking up at me. “I need you to know that. I’m not sure she was ever capable of loving anyone other than herself. You know?” He stands up, walking over to the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out over the city. “When I initially met your mother, that very first time I saw her in the courtroom, she was larger than life. She had so much passion and drive. A fire in her eyes.” He turns his head briefly in my direction. “Like you,” he says before looking away again, and I want to tell him not to compare me to her because I’m nothing like her.

“I was so drawn to her. I knew I had to get to know her. I wanted to make her mine from that very first moment I laid eyes on her. And I did.” He circles the room as he continues. “Things were good for a while, for several years, but then I noticed everything changing. We both became very focused on our careers, especially your mother. She began to eat, sleep, and breathe law. It became her life and I came second. Then one day,” he stops and clears his throat, pain lining his features, “I came home and found her in bed with someone else.”

My hand goes to my head to ease the ache building in my temples. I’m not sure I want to hear this. But I have no choice because he doesn’t stop there.

“She said it was a one-time thing and I believed her, probably because I needed to at the time. Because I couldn’t picture my life without her, even though I felt the distance between us growing. So I thought, maybe,” his darkened, blue eyes shift to mine, “if we had a baby then it would keep us together. It would bring us closer. But she really didn’t want to have children and I made a decision that I didn’t care what she wanted. Because I wanted her more.” He scrapes a weathered hand through his thinning hair. “I don’t want to go into all the sordid details but obviously she ended up pregnant with you and we stayed together. But we never should have. Because we were a mistake.”

He swallows hard, then comes over and sits on the coffee table in front of me. I’m trapped, not only by him, but by his words, afraid of what he’s going to say next. The desire to run out the door is overwhelming, but I’m frozen—waiting to bleed some more.

“But you, Vanessa. You were never a mistake,” he insists, his voice hoarse, and I don’t know where this is coming from. I certainly don’t believe him. “I loved you. I’m sorry that I just didn’t know how to show it and I was too wrapped up in what I wanted. But you’re my daughter and I… I still love you,” he confesses, reaching out a hand to me and I flinch, sitting as far back on the couch as possible, hands hidden beneath my legs.

“I don’t believe you,” I retort, because he must want something from me. Distrust merges with long buried anger and I can’t let this farce go on any longer. “Suddenly I’m your
daughter
,” I spit. “I’ve been your daughter for twenty-seven years. Where the hell have
you
been?”

“I know—”

“No.” I cut him off with my words and my hand in the air. Rage makes my eyes burn and I want him to see this, the monster of a daughter he created. That little girl inside that was starved for any crumb of affection he would throw my way is gone. So I face him. “You
don’t
know. You don’t know the first thing about me because you never bothered paying attention long enough to find out. Tossing money and presents in my direction didn’t take the place of love and affection. I wanted it back then. I
needed
it back then. But I don’t need it now. And I certainly don’t want it—not from you.”

He takes a seat next to me on the couch and I turn away. I can’t look at him anymore. “Vanessa.” My name comes out as a sigh. “About a month ago, I had a birthday. I turned sixty, and I looked up and saw no one. Nothing… except for my work. My life is empty and I know I only have myself to blame. Maybe,” he laughs acidly, “it’s because half my life is over and I realize that nothing has changed. But I don’t want to live the second part of my life the way I lived the first. I want to try to be different. That’s why I’m here. I want another chance to be a father to you.

“I know it’s different now, and that you’re older. You don’t need me the way you needed me to be there when you were younger, and I wasn’t. I know no apologies can make up for that. We can’t go back, but we can go forward. I’d like to be a part of your life in some way, if you’ll allow me to be. If you can forgive me. I’d like to get to know the woman you are now.”

My head is pounding and my hands are starting to hurt from squeezing them so hard. I pivot around, blue eyes that are way too familiar staring at me, expecting answers, when I have none.

“I don’t know what you expect me to say. I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”

“And I understand.” He’s somewhat resigned as if he knows his request is impossible for me. “All I’m asking is that you think about it.”

And the only thing I’m thinking about is seeing Rex. I need to see Rex.

“Okay,” I mutter. “I will.” I say the words, not even knowing whether I mean them or not. I just need him to go.

“Thank you. I’m staying at the W until tomorrow night. In case you want to reach me.” He pushes off the couch and I’m thankful that I don’t have to ask him to leave. He’s already overstayed his welcome and I think he knows that.

I don’t move from where I’m sitting, still trying to absorb what just happened here. When he gets to the door, he pauses, chin down, reaching into his pocket. Something jingles in his hand and he circles back, setting whatever it is down on the table. My heart scrunches tight in my chest when I see it’s the silver charm bracelet that Stella bought for me when I turned eight. The only gift that ever meant anything to me.

“I have a present for you,” she said, pushing it toward me on the table.

“I don’t like presents,” I mumbled, but it was hard to look away from the bright yellow wrapping paper and yellow bow. Yellow was my favorite color.

“I know,” she replied, and her voice sounded sad to me. I didn’t want her to be sad because she was my friend. She picked up the small, square box and shook it just a little bit. I heard something rattling around and got excited, bouncing in my seat. Only because it was Stella.

I felt my lips doing a funny quiver and she smiled back at me. She had the whitest teeth I’d ever seen. She must have used special toothpaste.

“Okay.” I took the gift from her hand and quickly tore away the paper. When I opened the box, I found the prettiest silver bracelet with puppies and kittens hanging from it. They were my favorite. I think my eyes and my mouth must have smiled at the same time because when I looked up at her, I could see all of her teeth. But then my throat felt funny and I wanted to cry. Instead, I remembered what Mommy said and sniffed in big to hold back my tears. “I love doggies and kitty cats,” I said, touching each one.

“I know you do,” she said, and then she kissed me on the cheek. “Happy Birthday, Nessa.”

And then I gasp as something hits me with so much force I can barely breathe. She
did
know. Because she cared enough to know.

I blink back the tears that are desperate to fall, my chest expanding with euphoria. All those years I thought that I was unlovable, that there was no one who cared about me, when all along there was someone right in front of me who did.

“Where did you get that?” I ask, the words a choppy jumble from my mouth.

He glances down at the fragile, tarnished piece of jewelry, faded from time. “We were cleaning out the house and I came across it. I kept it for you because I knew it was important to you.” And then the latch clicks, closing the door on everything that happened here tonight, leaving me wondering if I’ll be able to open the one he wants to walk through.

The sky is bathed in darkness, a replica of my pensive mood, as I blindly make my way toward Rex’s apartment. My mind is spinning in confusion, unable to make sense of my father’s words. The consistent band of insecurity that tightens around my waist still makes me wonder if he has an ulterior motive.

The moment Rex opens the door, it’s as if I’ve walked into the light. I launch myself into his arms, all of the anger and confusion consuming me becomes one big blur and melts away. Large hands grip my waist, holding me, and I feel safe and protected. His strength has become my harbor in this crazy storm that is my life. I’ve come to rely on him. And while it scares me, it’s exhilarating at the same time. Something I never thought could happen—with anyone.

“Whoa.” He squeezes me tight, his hand coming up to stroke my hair. “I’m happy to see you too. Hey,” he says when I don’t respond, “you okay?”

I shake my head against his chest, continuing to nestle myself as close as possible, trying to stifle the emotion that wants to come pouring out. He won’t let me hide though, another thing I love—I mean, appreciate about him. Instead, he pulls us apart, taking my face in his hands, his rich, brown eyes searching for the truth in mine.

“No, you’re not okay. Come tell me what happened with your dad.” He intertwines our fingers, leading us over to the sofa.

We sit down and recline against the back of the couch. Rex pivots to face me, giving me his full attention. The conversation with my father comes rushing back, making me feel lightheaded. I’m unable to reconcile who he used to be with the man who showed up tonight.

“I don’t understand what’s happened to him,” I begin. “He told me he was sorry for everything, that he wanted to make it right, to start over. And….” I clench my fists in my lap. “I wanted to hate him. I thought that I
did
hate him. So my first reaction was to push back, to be angry and resentful, because it doesn’t matter now. Where the hell was he when I needed him? But,” I let out a pained sigh, “after he left I realized maybe it does matter. Maybe there’s a part of me that still wants him in my life.”

“Of course. He’s your father.” Rex strums my palm with his knuckle, soothing me.

“You know.” I tug at the ends of my hair. “Growing up, I always felt like there was something wrong with me because I didn’t have the perfect family like everyone else I knew, and somehow that made me less than in some way, that made me broken.”

“Not broken, baby,” he says with a half-smile. “A little bit bent like the rest of us maybe, but never broken.”

My eyes move to our hands. “He said he wants to know if we can try to build something, get to know each other now. I just don’t know if I have it in me to forgive him.”

“Hey.” Rex takes his finger, tapping underneath my chin, and I lift my head. “I think you do. I think your capacity to forgive is enormous, because your heart is so big.”

The meaning behind his words and the sincerity in his eyes trigger a kaleidoscope of emotions to rocket through my body. A dam bursts as years of sadness, regret, and anger rise to the surface, along with something else more powerful that I’ve yet to put a name to, and I can no longer hold back. My mother’s words finally disintegrate as the tears course down my cheeks.

“I don’t cry,” I hiccup through a sob, no longer making any attempts to hide from him.

“Yeah, so you’ve said.” A tear lands on his thumb and another follows in its path. “Crying doesn’t make you weak, baby. It makes you human.”

I press a hand against my face, trying to disappear again. “When I’m like this, I—I just don’t want you to see me.”

He removes my hand, taking it between both of his. “It’s too late, baby. You’re the only one I’ve seen since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

My breathing stalls and I can’t get it to start up again. Rex tucks a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, his head angled to the side, eyes dancing over my face.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you.” His voice is hoarse, and my stomach plummets to the ground, anticipating those next words that will send me running out the door with a broken heart—because somewhere, deep down, I knew this was too good to be true.

“When I came home that night on my birthday, I was upset about what the day reminded me of, yes, but there was something else I couldn’t tell you. I wanted to push you away, for you to get as far from me as possible, because I was afraid I would end up hurting you.” He caresses my cheek with his hand, his gaze burrowing into mine. “But when you left that picture of Tyler and me, you showed me a piece of your heart and then walked away… and I realized in that moment that I wanted you more than I was willing to let you go.”

His other hand comes up to my cheek, his eyes continuing to hold me prisoner. “I—I couldn’t have dreamed you up if I tried. Because you’re too perfect. Too giving, too warm, too beautiful, and probably too good for me. But… the truth is, you make me want to try harder to be better, to be someone who deserves you.

“I don’t like to fall, you know? And believe me when I tell you I’ve fallen a lot in my life. I’ve been banged up, bruised, fucked up more times and in more ways than I can even count. But I’m not afraid to fall anymore. The only thing I’m fucking terrified of, is that you won’t be there to catch me when I do.”

“Rex, I—”

He silences me with a finger to my lips. “I’m falling in love with you, Blondie.”