Page 52 of Then Came You

I exhale the breath I’ve been holding, rocking back and forth on my heels. “I’ll make it happen.”

“Or maybe she can stay with Cin?” Zee backtracks, his mind coming up with other alternatives.

Cin?

“Cin? You mean the girl who couldn’t cut her Blue Mountains retreat short to see her possibly dying friend in the hospital?” I query, knowing he did not just suggest Row stay with her pathetic excuse for a friend.

“She doesn’t deal well with these types of things,” he defends. For God’s sake, he’s making all the same mistakes I did with Avalon. He’s blinded by the wrong things.

“She’s pre-med!” I shout. “This is exactly what she’ll be dealing with. Although, if you ask me, she’d be better fit to treat blow-up dolls with no feelings.”

“Okay. Okay. Sheesh.” He holds up his hands, backing down.

“She’ll stay with me. This is serious, Zee. She almost died. She was almost raped. She won’t get better by hanging out with friends. When she’s better, we’ll figure out something else for her and Tori,” I assert.

I see the light switch on when he really hears what I’m saying. Slipping back into the chair, I watch my son’s stoicism fade to devastation. “Why didn’t she tell me?” His voice cracks, guilt swallowing him like it is me. I let him sound out his thoughts, watching him tap his foot anxiously on the worn linoleum floor. “We’ve been friends for years. She never said anything.”

The same thoughts have flitted through my mind more times than I can count.

Tori snorts in disgust from her chair. Hitting the break, she summons all the breath in her lungs and lets it rip. “You’re kidding, right?” She starts, building up to hard truths neither Zee nor I are ready to hear. We both stare back at her blankly. “Do you even know what it’s like to grow up so poor? Who the fuck helps the poor little white kid whose Mum is a failed prostitute at best, and whose dad is dead? We’ve never not once been told by an adult that they love us.” Her voice cracks but she continues. “I bet you have people who take out your trash, while we were the ones digging through it for scraps of food.” Her eyes are glassy and full of angry emotion.

“Tori,” I start, not wanting to upset her.

Her eyes shoot to me. “No. You don’t get to interrupt. Just listen.” I inhale a shaky breath unprepared for the rest of her outburst. “She did it. She raised me. She killed herself to get her apprenticeship. We were finally going to have enough money to start again, and then I fell sick. She tried to fit in with you and Cindy, but she was never good enough. There was always something to pick on,” she scoffs, looking at Xander when she speaks this time. He casts his eyes down.

I know my son, and I am sure he didn’t even realise he was doing it. He doesn’t have a bad bone in his body.

He stretches his neck. “I didn’t say anything.” He racks his brain trying to remember.

Her face softens as she wheels closer to him. “Exactly,” she says, like her point has been made. “You didn’t say anything, Xander. You just stood idly by while Cindy walked all over Row for years. Belittled her at every chance. Then your Mum treated her just as badly. Row knows she doesn’t belong in your world. Why would she want to open herself up to more ridicule? She’s already ashamed of where we come from.

Blinking, he looks as confused as ever. “I would never…” Zee says in shock. I squeeze his shoulder. At that moment, I see Dad rounding the corner, walking our way.

“I know, mate. I know.” I turn to Tori, hoping to set the record straight. “Zee and I would never judge something that was out of her control. I can’t apologise enough for my ex-wife, but know that is not how I raised Zee. We think the world of Row.” She gives me a small, sad smile, letting me know it’s a little too late. “Why don’t you head back to your room, and I’ll get Zee to find us something decent to eat?” Tori looks like the poster child for tiredness, her sunken eyes drooping.

She wheels off after thanking me again and promising to catch up with me tomorrow. Zee looks distraught over Tori’s words, but he leaves to pick up some El-Jannah, leaving me with Dad.

He catches me up briefly on Row’s Mum and her other attackers, assuring me they won’t make bail. I’m close with Dad, but I’ve been reluctant to tell him about my feelings for Row because of our age gap and other incompatibilities.

He’s sipping stale black coffee in a paper cup, sitting across from me, but doesn’t make a fuss at all. I know he must have a lot of questions as to why I’m so invested in the well-being of Row. After placing it back on his lap, he gazes at me contemplatively. “Now tell me the real story about Row. You love her."

Dad’s a straight shooter, and it’s just what I need.

I blink at his comment before breaking down.

I don’t know if it’s love. It feels like love. It certainly feels bigger than anything I’ve felt for a woman, but now is not the time to label my feelings.

I pick at the label on the bottle of water I’m holding to keep me busy while I tell him our history from the day we met, adding, “She has this maturity in such a way that it’s unfathomable. Like she’s lived more years than she should have,” I say.

Puffing out a breath, Dad seems as gutted as I feel. “She couldn’t ever be a child, Blade. That type of responsibility can be crushing,” he reminds me.

“You wouldn’t believe it by looking at her, but I’ve stared at this woman so much, I can see she’s experienced enormous sadness. She has this astounding hope, but there’s always sadness lingering. I just didn’t know how deep. I should have known. I should have known that something wasn’t right,” I cry. I throw the collection of tiny pieces of shredded paper onto the ground, watching them fall like snowflakes on the carpet.

He pats my knee, and says, “she only let you see parts of her she was ready to share. You couldn’t have known.”

“It’s true. She has this uncanny ability to make you the centre of her universe when you’re speaking with her. She listens to me. Appreciates me. She sees me. I can’t lose her, Dad.” I swallow down the lump in my throat that threatens to choke me in sadness.

“You won’t, son. We’ll do everything in our power and more to protect her and help her heal,” he promises.

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