I’m about to sink further into my pity party of one when there’s a knock at the door, a knock that shouldn’t happen considering the only person who knows I’m here is my sister, and I swear if that woman shows up here, I’m going to jump for fucking joy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
tate
“Just a minute.” I hear her feet shuffling on the other side of the door. Calling my mother was smart, even if she did give me an earful. You see, Mom and Dad aren’t married. That could be because when my mom met my dad, I was already born. She was a single mom doing her best to make ends meet, cleaning houses for the people who could afford it, my dad being one of them. One day, the babysitter who was supposed to be watching me bailed on Mom at the last minute. That meant I had to go to work with her, something I was used to with her second job working at an all-night diner. At the age of five, the memory is burned in my head. We went to this massive house, bigger than anything I had ever seen or been inside. It’s also where Dad met Mom. One thing led to another, Dad said it was love at first sight, Mom said she made him work for it and stood her ground. When it was time for them to start seeing one another, she laid it out. Her son came first, and she refused to give up her job, which was well and fine because Dad wasn’t keen on that piece of paper where they pledge their troth to one another. It was a win-win, and even though I’m biologically not my father’s, he treats me like I am and always has. It’s also why both of them were disappointed that I’d snap at Em like that, because that’s not the way they ever raised me, and they never treated one another like that in front of me.
It took me asking for advice, both of them telling me to fuck the job, leave the loose ends loose, and get to where she was if Emily means as much to me as I told them she does. I followed their advice, got on the phone to Deke, and he handed the phone over to Kelsey, who was sweeter than pie.
“Tate, what are you doing here?” The woman who I had to work double time to get to asks, meaning I had to pack my shit from Tennessee the rest of the way, call my parents, fire off a slew of texts to Mason and Amy on what was going on and that I was leaving, time off unspecified, then call Deke, and finally find a ticket. It was a fuck of a day, one that I’m hopeful will end a whole lot better after we talk.
“Babe, you asked if I could be here.” I watch as she takes a deep breath. It finally clicks who’s actually standing in front of her. Not a ghost that can evaporate into thin air.
“But why? I thought you had to work?” she asks. The door is open, but Em isn’t opening it enough for me to walk through even though there’s a bag at my side. That’s one thing I didn’t prepare for. If she doesn’t accept my apology, Emily could very well say fuck off, and I’d have to find a place to stay.
“Did. Moved things around. I was a dick. I can admit when I’m wrong.” My hands that were by my sides move up to cup her cheeks, crowding in her space. This right here, being with Em, it feels right. What I did was wrong, taking out my work on her instead of leaving work with work, giving her the time of day when she had already visited me once.
“Tate.” Her voice is soft, sweet, and I know if I pushed my luck, pressed my lips to hers, she’d give me even more of that kindness, buried beneath her hard exterior.
“Babe, I know when I need to apologize. Today’s that day. I know the past week, I’ve been an absolute asshole. Took shit out on you that you didn’t deserve and didn’t give you the time of day. That’s not right. I can admit when I’m in the wrong. Em, you deserve an apology.” I dip my legs and look into her eyes, getting lost in the deep brown, a soft yellow ring around the irises, and when Em’s eyes close, I’m pretty sure she accepts it. That’s when I slide my nose along hers, not quite ready to take this further. That will come later on, once I’m inside. She relaxes more and responds to what I’ve just told her.
“Oh God, never in my wildest imagination did I think you would fly out here, admit when you’re wrong, and oh my gosh, Tate, you’re here, really?” That’s when I make my move, stepping back, one hand going to her hip, holding it while I bend to grab my bag that’s on the ground.