Page 31 of Rowan's Renewal
“You hate romcoms,” she accuses, making me laugh.
“I’m coming around to them.”
Sitting back in her seat, Bianca’s gaze turns assessing again. Her lips quirk into the ghost of a smirk and she says, “I want to meet this guy.”
“We’ve only been together for, like, a week and two days.”
“Uh-huh,” she waves a dismissive hand, “and you’ve already said you love him.Andhe’s changed your feelings on romcoms. I can’tnotmeet him.”
If our roles were reversed, I would be making the same demand of her. I sigh. “Yeah, well, I haven’t seen him since we left the airport the other day.” It was hard to walk away from him, even harder to get into my car and drive myself back home, but the barrage of texts and phone calls we have exchanged since then has soothed the ache in my chest a little. “So, you know, give me a little while longer to enjoy him for myself first. Please?”
Understanding softens her expression before she nods. “Of course, babe. But I’m still giving him the shovel talk.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
***
I’m nervous as I park my car in the visitors’ lot of the nondescript apartment building downtown. It’s not the kind of place I imagined Aaron would live. Not when I know how vibrant he is. But then, he did say he prefers to spend his money on experiences rather than material things, so that probably includes his apartment, too. Especially when he doesn’t get to spend a lot of time at home, thanks to his busy work schedule.
The building looks just like every other one in this area: tall, rectangular, built out of gray concrete and brick. But the lobby is light and airy, though minimalist, and I travel to the tenth floor in a clean, brightly lit elevator. There, I turn to the right and make my way down the hall.
There are two apartments on every floor, and Aaron lives in the one with the view of the college and its sprawling grounds. The other side of the building faces the more industrial part of the city. I smile to myself, thinking that it makes sense he would prefer to see splashes of parkland and greenery in his view. That’s very much like my Daddy.
Adjusting the strap of my overnight bag on my shoulder, I rap my knuckles on the door and try not to fidget as I wait. It has been almost a week since I last saw him, and I can’t help but worry that, despite our constant contact over the phone and via text, he might have changed his mind about being with me.
But those concerns fade away as the door swings open and I’m met with his blinding smile.
“Hey, baby,” he greets me, reaching forward to tug me inside. I barely register the sound of the door closing and the lock engaging as I’m enveloped in his warmth and scent. “God, I’ve missed you.”
Melting into his embrace, I fight the ridiculous urge to cry. “I’ve missed you, too, Daddy.”
He groans and kisses my cheek, murmuring, “You know exactly which buttons to press, don’t you, honey?” There’s ateasing glint in his eyes as he pulls back to look at me, but something of my emotional state must show on my face because it is immediately replaced with concern. “Oh, Ro. Sweetheart, c’mere.”
I don’t know why I’m fighting back tears as I’m pulled into another strong hug, but Aaron knows exactly what to do. He slips my bag from my shoulder and drops it by the door, then leads me into the open-plan living area of his apartment, pulling me into his lap as he drops onto the couch.
He rubs my back and soothes me as I sniffle in his hold, rubbing a stubbly, spiky cheek over my temple. “It’s been a long week, huh?” his voice rumbles through his chest. “And after a week of being able to be completely free, it must have been hard for you to go back to masking everything.”
I hadn’t really thought about it that way.
But he’s right.
From remembering to set alarms to visit the bathroom, to diapering myself at night, to not being able to give in to that floatier headspace where I’m coming to realize I do regress a bit, just like he said I do…it has been really draining. Emotionally and physically.
I find myself nodding and crying a bit harder.
“It’s alright, baby. Let it out. Daddy’s got you.”
The magic words. They’re apparently exactly what I needed to hear. After choking back one more sob, I stop trying to hold it all back. Burying my face into the crook of his neck, I cry it all out, finally letting the rush of relief wash over me as I stop pretending to be so controlled. Soadult.
Aaron hums and sways us from side to side where we sit, his hand still rubbing circles on my back. I ride the whole emotional release out until I’m a snotty, sniffling, hiccupping mess. But I feel boneless and lighter than I have all week.
Andyoung.
Soyoung.
Even though I’m physically bigger than Aaron, right now I feel small, huddled in his lap. And…I like it. A lot. Why did I spend a week denying myself this indulgence?
“Feeling better now, sweetheart?” he asks.
