Page 95
“But you want to know who your father is, right?” Rosie blinked, confused.
I nodded. “Yeah, but the feeling is not mutual. If it was, he would have contacted me by now.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know of your existence,” my girlfriend suggested. That was what I hoped. And prayed. And convinced myself every night.
“Or maybe he doesn’t care.” I resumed walking, and she fell in step with me.
“Or maybe he’s scared of your reaction after all these years,” she countered. “Maybe, Dean, you need to do what’s right for you, even if it isn’t what Nina wants.”
“Or maybe.” I was acting like a fucking four-year-old, I knew it, but couldn’t stop. “He is competing with Val over the worst parent award—there’s a lot of candidates for this title—and just like Luna is better off without her no-show mom, I’m better off without him.”
We stopped in the middle of what looked like the woodlands but was less than a mile away from the car. Rosie was striding at a snail’s pace. She turned to face me, and I don’t think I’d ever seen so many tears on one face. Her cheeks and chin were wet, gray clouds of mascara fanning her lashes.
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” she said, and she was. But I didn’t want her pity. I wanted her to know that I was a beast of a man who’d carry us both through storms and hurricanes. Hell and back. Through life—and if necessary, then yes, even through death. “I can’t believe you hid this from us all those years.” Rosie wiped a tear with the sleeve of her black pea coat. “Your friends have the right to be there for you, Dean. You should tell them.”
Yeah, not happening.
“Nah-ah, baby doll. It is what it is. We all have our secrets, trust me. That’s what makes us who we are. It doesn’t make our friendship any less strong.” And it was the truth.
“You know what you need to do?” Rosie chewed on her bottom lip, contemplating. I stared at her. Even if she had told me to do naked burpees all the way down to Todos Santos and back, I would.
“What would that be?”
“You need to get to the belly of the beast and kill it.” Her eyes zinged with determination. I smirked, tucking a loose lock that fell from her braid behind her ear.
“Killing Nina? Tempting, but I don’t think she’s worth the jail time.”
She rolled her eyes. “I mean talk to her. Pay her the money. See him. Move on with your life, no matter what you find out. The truth of the matter is, you are never going to let go of your vices if you don’t, and I think we both know that.”
“She doesn’t deserve the money,” I murmured.
“After what she’s done,” she placed her palm on my neck, dragging it down to my torso, “nothing will ever make her happy. She’s tainted. You don’t come back from that. Making others feel bad is never gratifying, no matter how badly you’re hurt. Compassion, however, is the most rewarding trait one could have. That’s why all wars eventually end. That’s why most people love their children, not abuse them. Promise me you’ll answer her?”
I nodded, even though dealing with Nina’s ass was the last thing on my to-do list. My life was complicated as it was. I was crazy about a girl who went to sleep every day not knowing if she was going to wake up the next. And I was fighting the alcohol demon, wrestling my way out of his claws. Every. Single. Day.
“I promise,” I said. “I will do this for you.”
“No,” Rosie stressed, pulling at the collar of my Ted Baker floral sweat bomber. “For you,” she corrected, the tears still running down her face. Then she took a step back, just when I was about to reach and hug her.
“My turn.”
“I’m listening.” My eyes clung to her face. Rain started sprinkling on our heads, and we both looked up, silently staring at the ashen sky. I took off my coat and bundled her with it, then reached across her back and behind her knees and lifted her into my arms, honeymoon-style, and began walking up the hill back to our car. It was just a sprinkle, not really all that cold, but I was still worried about her, even if I hid it every time we were together for her sake.
Her arms knotted around my neck. She looked down to her midsection and started talking.
“A year ago, when Vicious and Millie reconnected and he hooked us up with this crazy awesome health plan, I met Dr. Hasting for the first time. She wanted to run a bunch of tests on me to get a better feel of my overall condition, especially as I was just recovering from another lung infection I couldn’t seem to shake off. I was about to get back to nursing school when she told me that…” Rosie stopped, swallowing hard and shaking her head. Her eyes were closed. I broke a thousand times inside, but on the outside, I stared at her blankly, waiting for more. She gulped air before she opened her mouth again. “She told me that I shouldn’t bother going back to school, because I could never be a nurse. My immune system is so weak at this point, I have to get her okay before I even board a plane, which is why I was kind of shocked and worried when you picked me up to the airport for Thanksgiving. There was no way I could ever work around sick people, so she suggested I might as well look for something more practical to study. But I love helping people.” She coughed out the last few words, and I picked up my pace a little, a dash of panic thrown into my gut along with the wrenching feeling of grief. “So I decided to volunteer instead. The only place that is absolutely sterile from diseases is, you guessed it…”