Page 12 of Isolation
“You guys haven’t always been close over the years,” I simply point out.
Uncle John closes his eyes. His worried face is disheartened, and I notice the dark circles under his eyes. He has been genuinely worried about her.
All of Raven’s insecurities started with this man in front of me. He turned Raven into a cynic. Then again, I also showed Raven the ugly side of love.
He and I are just the same.
“I know,” he whispers. “I was not a good father. She deserved better. I failed her, but you stepped in. You did more than Theressa or I ever did. I-I just didn’t see you two inthatlight.”
“I don’t know how it happened,” I speak sincerely. “But it did.”
“But why her? You used to be her guardian. Do you know how that looks to everyone? You are both going to be mercilessly ridiculed. Milo, you are a good-looking man. You are successful and an eligible bachelor. Women chase after you. So, why does it have to beher?”
“Ithasto be her,” I grit through clenched teeth. “I always wanted to be with her, but I couldn’t because—” my eyes flip up to meet his.
“Because of me,” Uncle John finishes for me. We both awkwardly stare at the floor, following his admission. The room is silent except for the sound of Raven breathing.
“You became her legal guardian because I asked you to take care of her,” Uncle John sighs. “You couldn’t be together even after your guardianship ended because there would have been too many allegations. All because Theressa and I were selfish parents.”
It’s true. Their shit decisions took away the chance for us to have a normal start.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely. “I didn’t know how you two felt about each other. But I respect you for not crossing that boundary with her back then. Is that why Raven left New York so abruptly; she was upset that you two couldn’t be together?”
The real reason why Raven moved to Paris without finishing her senior year is very different from the official story given to the parents.
Raven told them that she got accepted to the International Fashion Academy of Paris for a remote internship for her senior year of high school. The adults raised their eyebrows, but since Theressa lived in Paris no one questioned it.
I keep my expression neutral instead of giving him a response.
“This is going to take some getting used to,” he sounds unconvinced. He also sounds… understanding. “You two are going to face a lot of scrutiny from everyone we know. But if you stick it out, then you will get through it together and come out stronger.”
“You’re serious?” I am unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.
“I’ll admit that I am still shocked,” he says slowly. “However, you are both adults and I know you are a good man, Milo. If you truly love my daughter, then I am not going to hold back my blessing. I just want her to be happy.”
I have been so engrossed in Raven’s health that I haven’t considered what happens once she is fully conscious.
I told everyone I love her. They haven’t questioned how Raven feels about me. If they ask whether she is happy, Raven is not going to keep up the ruse once she is lucid.
The bright side is, our families are finally on board with us being together. If Raven still seeks approval from both of our parents like she used to, the transition might not be as difficult.
I give Uncle John an appreciative nod, feeling more hopeful. He awkwardly hesitates again before speaking.
“Umm…one more thing. Can you two sleep separately? You might be adults, but we are still your parents. I am very uncomfortable with this arrangement.”
I smile agreeably, but I don’t verbally commit. Sure, he might consider it disrespectful to sleep in his daughter’s room. Both of our dads are religious. They don't approve of premarital sex.
However, I pay the mortgage here. He is my guest. My house, my rules.
After answering some more of my questions about Raven’s symptoms, he decides to join the others for dinner while I wake Raven up to give her the pills.
Raven takes the pills and falls back onto the pillow. Her eyes are barely open, she looks like she is about to go back to sleep.
I greedily stare at her. In her perplexity, mixed with the concussion and the painkillers, Raven has forgotten to hate me. She has been letting me take care of her and hold her while she sleeps.
I lift the comforter and collect her in my arms. Every time I hold her, I stop breathing, expecting words of protest. But nothing. She stays put and then buries her head on my chest.
Raven is fast asleep again with her head resting on my chest. She is letting me hold her close enough to let that smell of hers linger over me, lulling me into a lethargy of my own. She is still the only oxygen machine that truly works for me.
