In the future, when you’re older and wiser, you may look back on my departure and have questions, insecurities, and blame me for abandoning you at such a young age—and for that I cannot offer anything that will give you peace. People may tell you I was selfish for leaving you behind, but I believe that it was more selfish to let you live with half a father.

Since your mammy passed, I have lived a sad and lonely life, you and Grandma being the only light in my darkness. I want you to know that I am at peace now and in the happiest place I can imagine—in the arms of your mammy for eternity.

Live life to the fullest, my darling girl, and one day, when God so wishes, I will be waiting to see you again at the gates of paradise, to once again have you jump into my open arms so I can twirl you around, tell you how pretty you are, and introduce you to your mother… who looks just like you.

“So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground.” ~ William Shakespeare

I love you.

Daddy x

I knew Romeo had finished the letter when I felt him at my back, his body heat cutting through the thin barrier of silk. Laying a soft kiss on the nape of my neck, he carefully turned me in his arms and silently lifted me off my feet. His expression was unreadable as I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding tightly to our new profound intimacy.

Romeo brought me wordlessly to my desk in the corner of the balcony and laid me down flat on the white tabletop, slipping open the knotted tie of my robe, the material falling to drape at my sides. His soft mouth kissed butterfly touches from my ankle to my thigh before wrapping them loosely around his waist. Bracing himself above me, Romeo slid forward, painstakingly slow, and made love to me. He rocked within me so gently, folding my hands within his, and we reached our release in unison, sighing mutely into the stillness of the night.

The soft stroke of Rome’s finger ran cherishingly down my cheek. “Thank you for showing me the letter, baby. Thank you for trusting me with knowing your past.”

I pecked kisses onto my favourite three freckles on his nose and the small white scar on his chin. “Take me to bed, Romeo.”

Doing as I asked, Romeo laid me under the covers as though I weighed no more than a feather, pulling me into his chest, and we fell into a blissful, sated sleep.

I was completely and hopelessly in love.

16

I accepted the final change on the Word document with an excited left click of the mouse. I had finally finished the last piece of research for Professor Ross’s periodical and felt a well-earned satisfied sense of accomplishment at the feat. My free time could now be spent with Romeo, not chained to the library desk.

I sat back in my balcony deck chair taking a much-needed break, breathing in the warm Tuscaloosa air, when I heard the telltale rustling on the trellis.

Romeo hopped over the balcony edge with a sullen expression and my heart dropped. He walked straight to me and, capturing my face in his hands, stole a long, sensual kiss. When he withdrew, his eyes were burning and I was breathless, but he simply sat beside me on the spare white chair.

“Still working hard I see.” He smiled, but it was strained.

“Yeah. Professor Ross was told this morning that we have a timeslot of when we need to present the paper in Oxford—we go in a few months. It’s a race against time to get it done now, but I’ve at least completed my part.”

Romeo edged forward on his seat, mouth tight. “You’re goin’ to England in a few months’ time? Since when?”

I twirled my pen between my fingers, meeting his eyes warily. “Since always. I’m assisting in the presentation. It’ll help immensely when choosing where to study for my PhD. If it’s well received, I could have my pick of grad schools.” I cocked my head in question. “Why?”

Romeo slumped back moodily. “I don’t want you to leave me, I’ll miss you too much. Plus, the championship game is ‘round then. I need you in the stands, watchin’ me. You have to be there for me to do well—good luck charm, remember. You don’t want thousands of Tide fans pissed at you.”

I shook my head in exasperation, moved over to sit on his lap, and he wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, skimming his nose along my jawline.

“I’ll be back in time. I’d never miss the championship game if the Tide makes it there—can’t get between Bama folk and their football, now can I?”

He nipped my backside. “Oh, we’ll get there, baby. No doubt about that, and you will be sitting in the stands, supporting me, screaming my name—before, during, and after the game.”

I leaned down and kissed his soft lips with a giggle. When I retreated, the same sullen expression fell across his features.

I stroked his unshaven cheek. “What’s wrong?”

Taking a long, deep breath, he said, “One guess.”

“Parents?”

“Bingo.”

“What now?” I asked, dreading the response.

“They want to meet you. They’ve invited us to dinner tomorrow night. They’re notchin’ up their tactics.”

I recoiled in shock. “Really? I never thought they’d want to meet me… ever.”

“Me either.”

I sucked in a hiss at the sting. Romeo grasped my arm. “Hey. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelin’s, but they’re not happy about us, Mol. They’ve made no secret about that.”

I cuddled back into his chest. “I know. It just sucks.”

“I’m tellin’ them no.”

I jolted upright. “No. Screw it, let’s go. Show them how good we are together. By seeing us, it might help them understand.”

Romeo pulled an incredulous look. “They won’t understand and I won’t have them attack you. I’ve coped with it for years; I’m not watchin’ you take the same treatment. You’ve seen my daddy in action. He doesn’t tolerate disobedience. My momma’s vindictive and cruel. Why do you wanna officially meet people like that?”

“I want to bridge the gap for your sake.” His expression softened and he kissed the back of my hand.

I smoothed his long hair from his face. “Are you ever going to tell me the real history with you and your parents? Warts and all?”

Romeo’s snapped his head back as though I’d scolded him. “We ain’t goin’ there. I’m just a huge disappointment to them. The finer details don’t matter.”