Page 32 of Whatever He Wants
You shouldn’t, I want to say.I would be a hypocrite if I did, after a week of dirty thoughts about him.
Isaac reaches over and cups one of my hands between his.I tense, but I don’t pull away like I should.
“You were a bad girlfriendbecausehe was a bad boyfriend, Denise,” he continues.“He wasn’t right for you.”
He strokes me, his fingers sliding over my palm and the back of my hand, his warmth seeping into my skin.I told myself I would stop him if he tried anything, but I should’ve known that was an empty promise.I craved his touch all week and just this simple contact lights up my whole body.Triumph shines in his eyes when he releases my hand.
“Ready to leave?”he asks.
I nod, too ashamed of my self-betrayal to speak.
We arrive home twenty minutes later, and I’m nervous as hell when Isaac walks with me to the backyard fence’s side gate instead of using his front door.The moment he shuts and latches the tall wooden gate behind us, we’re secluded.Alone.
The basement door is a few feet from us.I should get out my keys and bid him a good evening.I don’t move.He’s standing close, the faint scent of his woody cologne tempting me to lean in and inhale him, his eyes dark with interest.
My heart beats faster in anticipation.That’s the way he looked at me before he kissed me last week.Is he going to do it again?Would I stop him?The answer is quick and shameful.I wouldn’t.I might protest, but no matter how often I remind myself it’s wrong, I can’t stop myself from giving Isaac whatever he wants.
Because I want it too.
“We’ll leave at eleven tomorrow,” he says, breaking the tension between us.
After I agree, he waves goodbye, heading up the deck stairs and into his house.I take a breath, willing away disappointment, then turn to the basement door.
20
Denise
“You OK?”
Isaac’s question draws me out of my thoughts.I turn away from the passing scenery of farmland stretching toward the horizon as we drive home from the party.Well, it wasn’t really aparty.It was more of a small gathering around my dad’s bed as we ate slices of his birthday cake.
“Just thinking about the amount of pain Dad must have suffered from the fall.Broken ribs and a collapsed lung.”I grimace.“God.It hurts to even imagine.”
“At least his doctor said he has a high chance of a full recovery.That’s remarkable for a guy in his sixties.”
“It was sad to see him lying there in bed, looking so helpless, though.Before I left home, he was always moving around, doing something.”
“He’ll be back to himself in no time.”
I nod in agreement.“Gayle is doing a great job taking care of him.”
We settle into a comfortable quiet.The hum of the engine and the soft music on the radio lulls my mind.My thoughts drift to that moment after Isaac pulled into Dad and Gayle’s driveway.
Gayle rushed out of the house like she was being chased and pulled me into a tight hug the second I stepped out of the car.She was crying when she released me, touching my face, stroking my hair, and squeezing my shoulders like I was a mythical creature made real in front of her.I teared up too, all the anger I harboured against her disappearing like vapour in the open.
More tears came the moment I saw my dad.He’s always had a tall, broad-shouldered frame, but the man propped up in bed looked so small and frail.His face lit up when I entered the room.Even though he once told me to never return, and even though it seemed to physically hurt, he raised his arms, inviting me for a hug.
“I’m glad you convinced me to go,” I say.“Dad and I had a good talk.”
“Why didn’t you accept the gift?”
My eyes widen.“He told you about that?”
“Yes, so I could convince you to take it.Take the money, Denise.”
I purse my lips, hooking my thumb under my seatbelt and tugging it.
“It doesn’t feel right.That money was supposed to pay for college, and I didn’t go.I ran away and disappointed him.”
