Page 114 of Best Served Cold

“Some pieces of the puzzle are clicking together,” he says, nestling my head beneath his chin, his arms gripping me tightly, letting me know that I’m not alone.

I’m shocked to realize that I feel safe. I’ve never shared my story lightly, and it’s always been done with fear and tension, but I feel at peace in Rob’s arms. Cherished.

“I did something stupid when I was sixteen.”

“You and most teenagers.”

I swallow down a tide of emotion. “Most teenagers don’t burn down buildings.”

I expect him to say something, maybeno wayorholy shit,or something glib likeleave it to you to cause a fire.

But he just listens quietly, his arms still tightly around me.

“My parents were always busy,” I say. “I was an only child, and they never seemed to have time for me. I got in the way. So when I got a bit older, I started doing things to see if they’d react. Drinking from their liquor cabinet. Skipping classes. But they only seemed to care when it interfered with their schedule. Like if my mom or dad had to come pick me up early. I was an inconvenience. My school counselor told me I was getting in my own way, and she was right, obviously, but it was like I couldn’t stop. I needed something to happen.” I glance down at his hands, crossed over my chest, and the little white scars on his fingers give me the courage to continue.

My voice shaky, I say, “We always used to go to my grandparents’ cabin in the summers. Near Boone. Great-Aunt Penny would come too. And Otis. And a few other cousins. It was a whole thing. My parents made such a big deal of the importance of behaving myself at the cabin, like they suddenly cared, but I knew it was only because they saw me as a reflection of themselves. So I brought a pack of cigarettes I’d bought off an older kid. I didn’t even like smoking.” Tears prick at my eyes.“I didn’t put the cigarette out properly, and it was so dry that summer…

His arms tighten around me as a sob rips out of me.

“The cabin burned down,” he says softly.

I nod, tears coursing down my cheeks. “But it was worse than that. The fire spread through the woods before the firefighters could stop it. No one died, thank God, but my grandfather was hospitalized for smoke inhalation, and the cost…

“My parents had to pay over a hundred and twenty thousand dollars in fines, and they sent me to reform school as part of a plea deal. But I don’t think it was just because they had to. They didn’t want me anymore. They still don’t.”

I’m crying uncontrollably now, and he turns me in his lap to face him, his eyes so soft and warm that I cry harder. He rubs a soothing hand up and down my back. “And you’ve spent the last decade trying to make up for it by pleasing everyone. By serving them.”

“I didn’t please you,” I sniffled.

He lifts his fingers to my cheek, tracing the tears. “You please me, Sophie. You please me a whole hell of a lot.” He pulls me closer and presses a soft kiss to my lips, then to the tear tracks beneath my eyes. “You made a mistake, that’s all. We’ve all made mistakes.”

“Did yours burn acres of forest?” I ask, making a congested sound that could only very generously be called laughter.

“You were unlucky. That’s the only difference. But luck isn’t something that sticks, Soph. It’s not something we carry with us or lose. It’s random. And from what I can tell, you’ve paid for it. You’ve changed because of it. So why go on blaming yourself, honey? What good does it do anyone?”

I’m shaking as if I’m freezing, the tears still coming hard and fast. He wasn’t supposed to understand. He was supposed to send me away…

I’d been preparing for it.

“They never forgave me,” I say in a ragged voice.

“They sound like assholes, if you’ll forgive me for being blunt.” He strokes my hair from my face with one hand, pulling me closer with the other. “But I’ll bet all of this brought you closer to your aunt. Your cousin.”

“When I heard she was sick, I had to come help her. She was the only member of my family who still treated me like a person,” I say through gasping sobs. “The only one who still loved me.”

“Otis seems to like you a whole lot.”

“I don’t know why,” I admit. It still came as a shock, Otis wanting to help me, Otis caring. Otis thinking we should try running a business together.

“Because he’s sensible enough to value you. Your aunt too. We all make mistakes. It’s how we respond to them that makes or breaks us.” He cups my jaw with his hand, our faces inches apart. His fingers are wet with my tears. “And you, Sophie Ginnis, are a strong woman. You’re a kind woman. And you’re so fucking brave.”

I start shaking my head, but he stills the motion.

“Thank you for telling me, Soph. Thank you for letting me in.”

“I like you,” I blurt out, my heart hammering.

He smiles at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Jesus, I’d fucking hope so.”

---