Page 78 of Payback
My mom strokes her hair affectionately. “You impressed me today. I can see why Roan chose you to be the first girl he brought home.”
With those parting words, my mom turns on her heel and kisses me goodnight before heading toward her bedroom.
Allie turns her suddenly wide awake eyes at me. “First girl?”
I exhale heavily and walk around to the far side of the sofa bed. “Don’t get all weird,” I say, pulling back the covers and crawling in.
“Weird?” she exclaims, her voice giddy-sounding as she slides in next to me. “Why would I get weird?”
She turns on her side to face me, propping her head on her hand. The dim lamp illuminates her amused expression enough to have me rolling my eyes.
“We should get some sleep.” I flick the light off, hoping darkness will help Allie pass out sooner so she doesn’t hit me with a million questions about why I never brought a woman home to meet my mother.
Unfortunately, I can still make out Allie’s cheery face in the faint light streaming in from the window. She has a gleeful smile when she says, “I seriously can’t believe I’m the first girl you brought home to meet your mother.”
I turn on my side to drape my arm over her. “It’s not a big deal.”
She giggles at my dry tone and tucks herself under my chin, nestling into me like I’m her own personal cocoon. “Just because you say things aren’t a big deal doesn’t mean they’re not. In fact, everything you say isn’t a big deal actually is a really big deal.”
I press my nose to her damp hair and inhale deeply before replying, “Fine, it’s a big deal. I haven’t brought women home because I’ve never liked anyone enough to share my family history with. But you did brilliantly today. Watching you listen to my gran and ask all those insightful questions…She more than liked you. She connected with you. It was incredible.” My heartbeat increases as I feel the weight of that realisation like a thousand bricks on my chest.
“Well, I really liked her,” Allie states softly, her voice losing that edge of humour it had before. “She’s lived an amazing life.”
“She has,” I reply with a fond smile as I stare off into space. “So has my mom. They have both sacrificed a lot in their lives. When my mom moved to Cape Town with my dad to help him open up a medical clinic, it was a big deal and her family wasn’t very supportive. Then, when my father passed, she was left with a ton of bills she couldn’t pay. She did everything she could to keep our heads above water. She could have run back home to her family in England or taken a handout from my gran, but she was too proud for that. She told me that my father used to say overcoming obstacles determined the weak from the strong, and she had to be strong for me since he wasn’t here anymore.”
Allie trails her fingertips along my back in slow, languid circles as she asks, “Do your sisters see their dad?”
I nod and press my nose to her hair again. “When he’s sober, he sees the girls. When he’s not, he can’t.”
“Did you get along with him growing up?”
It’s an innocent question that I’m grateful to have a good answer to because not all dark-skinned kids would be accepted by a white man. South Africa has come a long way, but it’s far from perfect.
“We got along. He’s actually the one who taught me soccer, so I kind of owe my career to him. I think his fondness for me is what made my mom fall in love with him. Sadly, he just loved alcohol more.”
Allie remains quiet for several minutes. She’s so still I wonder if she fell asleep.
“What did your grandma say to you tonight when we were leaving?”
My body tenses from her question because it’s not something I’m ready to tell her yet. “Nothing, mooi,” I murmur, dropping a kiss to her hair. “Just granny things.”
Allie tightens her arms around my waist, pulling me in so our bodies are completely flush against one another. “Roan…Real or fake? You brought me here to meet your family because you’re in love with me.”
I pull my head back to look down at Allie’s face. She lifts her chin and stares up at me with complete and total vulnerability. No fear. No doubt. No hesitation. Just complete and brave honesty.
Taking a deep breath, I bring my hand up to caress her cheek as I softly reply, “Real.”
Her gaze shines in the dim lighting and I swear I see tears welling in her eyes. She brings her hand up to my face, mirroring my touch as she whispers against my lips, “Real or fake? I’m in love with you, too.”
My heart thumps hard and fast in my chest because this is a moment I’ve never experienced with anyone before, and I want to feel it all. I want to remember her innocent face and her exposed expression. I want to remember the sight of my gran embracing her and telling her about our heritage. I want to remember the way her skin feels and looks against my skin. Like a swirl of something special and beautiful, magical and real. I want to remember it all.
I eliminate the space between us and press my lips to hers in a deep, intoxicating kiss. She responds with vigour because she is mine now, in this moment, in this time, in this life. She will never belong to another man as long as I walk this earth.
She laughs against my mouth and pulls away, tenderly rubbing her thumb over my lips as she says, “An answer will make this kiss that much better.”
I half smile and it feels like my heart might burst any second. “It better be real, Lis, because I don’t know how anything could be fake between us at this point.”
