Reed’s breaths, however, seize as his brows snap together. “What?”
“Tell me what you keep in the trunk of your car.”
“Pete tell you to ask me that?”
“Yes. Tell me.”
His chest shudders as he plows his fingers through his hair again, almost ripping it out. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
I raise my voice. “Tell me, Roman.”
I have to.
To make him answer. To make my own heart stop beating so loudly.
He hates it. Having to answer me.
But he does even though there’s violence in every word of his. “The sweater you gave me, all right?”
“The sweater.”
“Yes,” he pushes out. “I keep the sweater you gave me, wrapped up in a bag, in the trunk of my car.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s the only place I know it will be safe. The only way I know it will be with me wherever I go.”
My sweater.
The one I made for him because I loved him. Because I knew that he was always cold and I wanted him to have something warm and cozy when I wasn’t there to wrap him into my arms.
He keeps that sweater, my love letter to him, safe in his Mustang. Again, something he never told me and probably never would’ve if I hadn’t pushed him.
He keeps the thing I made for him with love, in the only thing he says he loves.
But I know that’s not true.
I know he loves his sister. He loves Pete despite what he says. I know he loves Halo.
And now I know he loves me.
He loves me.
Reed is in love with me. He’s been in love with me for a long time now.
And you know what? He loved me two years ago too.
What I felt back then was real. He loved me.
That’s why he did everything.
He protected my virginity. He got those charges reduced at his expense. And I know that he broke my heart that day but he loved me even then. He did it because he thought he had no choice. He did it because of his father.
And more than anything, I know when he broke my heart, he broke his heart too.
Like his heart is breaking right now.
And God, I thought… I thought if I ever found out that Reed was in love with me too, then I’d be the happiest girl in the world. I’d be the luckiest girl.
Because the guy I fell in love with when I was almost sixteen loves me back. I’m not sure if he realizes that he loves me but he does love me back.
Reed Roman Jackson.
The love of my life. The beat of my ballerina heart.
Loves me back.
But I’m not.
I’m not happy. I’m not happy because he’s destroying himself for this love.
He’s tearing himself apart for this. For Halo. For my dream that he thinks his father will destroy if he doesn’t give that vile man everything.
Just look at him.
Look at his messy hair, his pretty eyes all red and ferocious. That jaw all rough and clenched. His tall, broad body tight and alert in a battle stance.
And so I take a deep breath and try for the last time to make him understand.
That this isn’t the only way to love. He’s free to love in a hundred different ways.
Halo, Tempest, Pete… me.
“You’re regretting it now, aren’t you?” he asks in a guttural voice. “Forgiving me. Forgiving a guy like me.”
“No. Because there’s a difference,” I say, looking into his eyes. “Between you and him.”
“What?”
“I know you think that you’re like him. I know that. And you might be. You came from him, right? He’s your father. Of course you share similarities. You grew up with him. You grew up fighting with him, hating him and yet learning things from him. Because that’s what we do. We learn things from our surroundings, from our parents. But through some miracle, you learned new things. Different things. Things that he didn’t teach you, Roman. Because your father is incapable of those things. I talked to him. I could feel it. And I believe you when you say that your father is dangerous. And he’s that way because he’s incapable of remorse. He’s incapable of love. But you’re not. I know you want to believe that you don’t love anything and I’m not going to push you to believe otherwise. Not again. But I also know that you love Halo at least.”
I put my hand on my belly and she kicks into it. And as always, his eyes, so pretty, so anguished, fall to my hand.
“I know that you love her. You love our baby. And you know what else, Roman? She loves you back. She hasn’t even met you yet but she loves you. You know why? Because you’re her daddy. You’re going to protect her. You’re going to teach her so many things. Riding a bike or doing a math problem. Or throwing around a ball. Maybe climbing a tree. And you’re going to put her on your shoulders and she’s going to feel like she’s on the top of the world. She’s going to love her daddy. I can see it.
“I can see that she’s going to look up to you for everything. You’re going to be her favorite. Even more than me. I know that, Roman. She’s going to come to you for everything. Because you’re going to be her hero. You already are her hero. She perks up whenever you’re close. She goes to sleep if she’s restless. She hears your voice and I can feel her smiling inside of me, being all happy. But if you do this, Roman, if you do this thing for your father, then you’re going to break her heart. You’re going to break our baby girl’s heart because then you’ll be like everything else that you want to protect her from. You’ll be a villain.
“Don’t be a villain, Roman. I know you think you don’t have a choice. I know you think you have to do this. But you don’t. You always have a choice. Always. Choose the right thing. Choose the protector in you. You always wanted to be out of your father’s control, right? You can be. All you have to do is choose. Please. Choose what you want, what you’ve always wanted. And do it for Halo. Don’t break her heart before she’s even born, Roman. Before you’ve even held her in your arms. But more than that, choose what you want for yourself. Choose it because if you hurt the man who’s always been a father to you, for the man who’s never cared about you, you’ll break your heart. You’ll break your own heart, Roman, like you did two years ago. Stop breaking your own heart. Please.”
I’ve begged him now. As much as I can.
I’ve begged him and I’ve pleaded with him and I don’t know what he’s thinking.
I don’t know because he’s not showing me.
His body is a statue, made of beautiful marble, and his eyes are inscrutable. And even if he had any expression in them, I wouldn’t be able to see it anyway.
Because my own eyes are filled with tears. My own body is trembling.
I want him to say something, anything, and he does.
He shifts on his feet, takes a step back and says, “Don’t wait up.”
With that, he spins around and leaves.