Page 88 of Playing With Danger

Christ, I was a dick. I’d made her wait all day and into the night for me to come home.

“Did you eat?”

“No. But I’m not hungry and I swear if you try to force food on me when all I want you to do is get in this bed with me and talk to me, I swear I’ll get creative in my violence.”

I had no doubt.

With her pinch fresh in my mind, I let the topic of food go, hit the lights, and crawled in next to her.

“Turn, baby. I want to hold you.”

“I want to see your face,” she whispered and offered her hand.

When I took it, her other hand immediately came up to bracket mine between hers.

My sweet Sophie.

After everything I put her through she was offering me comfort when she should have kicked me in the balls and made me get to my knees and beg her for forgiveness.

“I went back to my dad’s.”

There wasn’t enough light in the room for me to see her clearly but it looked like she was frowning.

“The first few hours we sat there in silence. I don’t know if he knew I was even there. He was just staring at the family picture.”

“The one above the couch?”

As fucked up as earlier had been I was now relieved she knew, that she’d seen him, and how he lived. No one else knew, just her.

“My mom was so excited the day that picture was taken. Our first professional family picture. I thought it was goofy as shit, all of us dressed in jeans and white shirts.”

“How old were you?”

“Twelve.” A year and a few months later and half that family was gone. “Vienna was just happy Mom let her wear lip gloss. Dad’s decree was no makeup until Vivi turned thirteen. He used to tell her she was too beautiful to put that stuff on her face. He was always telling her how pretty she was, that God had blessed him with a daughter who looked like her momma. Before we left the house that day, he grabbed the back of my neck and told me I was the best son a man could have, humoring my mom, being cool about the picture even though he knew I was missing baseball practice. That was him. Always finding his times to tell us how much he loved us.”

I had to stop as the bittersweet memories of a father I no longer had tumbled through my head. A man I was proud to have as a father. A man I wanted to be just like.

“It took like three months for Mom to get that big-ass print back from the photographer. It took her forever to get it just right on the wall. The whole time my dad stood there holding the frame to the wall, smiling. That was him, whatever she wanted. He smiled and gave it to her. And she returned the favor.”

“Your mom’s beautiful. So is Vivi,” Sophie whispered.

Hearing Sophie call Vienna her nickname felt like a gut punch.

“They say a person experiences two deaths. The first is when they die. The second is when they’re forgotten. I can’t remember the last time I heard my father say my mom or Vienna’s name. I can’t remember the last time I said their name out loud.”

“Honey.”

“I took the picture off the wall.”

She was still whispering when she said, “Valentine.”

“He freaked. Started yelling and cussing. He got out of that recliner faster than I’d seen him move in years. If I hadn’t seen the empty bottle on the table I would’ve swore he was sober. He was moving around the room with purpose. Unfortunately, that purpose was to yell and break shit but he was vertical and walking without swaying. Tore through the whole house. Yelling, not making much sense, throwing shit around. He even went into Vivi’s room. I don’t remember the last time he’s gone in there. The door’s always shut and it’s still a shrine to a ten-year-old. It looks like it did the day she left with Mom to go run errands. I don’t know what he did in there, I stayed out in the hall, but he came out with the old bear and ranted about buying her a new one. That devolved quickly into him shouting about how it should’ve been him who died. That he wishes it was him and not my mom.”

Sophie’s hands holding mine tightened. She hitched her leg over my hip and brought herself closer. I hoped like fuck that meant she forgave me for being such a heartless prick.

“I never wanted you to see that,” I admitted.

“I know.”

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