REX (Finding Love)

by Beth Michele

  He swallows hard, then comes over and sits on the coffee table in front of me. I’m trapped, not only by him, but by his words, afraid of what he’s going to say next. The desire to run out the door is overwhelming, but I’m frozen—waiting to bleed some more.

  “But you, Vanessa. You were never a mistake,” he insists, his voice hoarse, and I don’t know where this is coming from. I certainly don’t believe him. “I loved you. I’m sorry that I just didn’t know how to show it and I was too wrapped up in what I wanted. But you’re my daughter and I… I still love you,” he confesses, reaching out a hand to me and I flinch, sitting as far back on the couch as possible, hands hidden beneath my legs.

  “I don’t believe you,” I retort, because he must want something from me. Distrust merges with long buried anger and I can’t let this farce go on any longer. “Suddenly I’m your daughter,” I spit. “I’ve been your daughter for twenty-seven years. Where the hell have you been?”

  “I know—”

  “No.” I cut him off with my words and my hand in the air. Rage makes my eyes burn and I want him to see this, the monster of a daughter he created. That little girl inside that was starved for any crumb of affection he would throw my way is gone. So I face him. “You don’t know. You don’t know the first thing about me because you never bothered paying attention long enough to find out. Tossing money and presents in my direction didn’t take the place of love and affection. I wanted it back then. I needed it back then. But I don’t need it now. And I certainly don’t want it—not from you.”

  He takes a seat next to me on the couch and I turn away. I can’t look at him anymore. “Vanessa.” My name comes out as a sigh. “About a month ago, I had a birthday. I turned sixty, and I looked up and saw no one. Nothing… except for my work. My life is empty and I know I only have myself to blame. Maybe,” he laughs acidly, “it’s because half my life is over and I realize that nothing has changed. But I don’t want to live the second part of my life the way I lived the first. I want to try to be different. That’s why I’m here. I want another chance to be a father to you.

  “I know it’s different now, and that you’re older. You don’t need me the way you needed me to be there when you were younger, and I wasn’t. I know no apologies can make up for that. We can’t go back, but we can go forward. I’d like to be a part of your life in some way, if you’ll allow me to be. If you can forgive me. I’d like to get to know the woman you are now.”

  My head is pounding and my hands are starting to hurt from squeezing them so hard. I pivot around, blue eyes that are way too familiar staring at me, expecting answers, when I have none.

  “I don’t know what you expect me to say. I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”

  “And I understand.” He’s somewhat resigned as if he knows his request is impossible for me. “All I’m asking is that you think about it.”

  And the only thing I’m thinking about is seeing Rex. I need to see Rex.

  “Okay,” I mutter. “I will.” I say the words, not even knowing whether I mean them or not. I just need him to go.

  “Thank you. I’m staying at the W until tomorrow night. In case you want to reach me.” He pushes off the couch and I’m thankful that I don’t have to ask him to leave. He’s already overstayed his welcome and I think he knows that.

  I don’t move from where I’m sitting, still trying to absorb what just happened here. When he gets to the door, he pauses, chin down, reaching into his pocket. Something jingles in his hand and he circles back, setting whatever it is down on the table. My heart scrunches tight in my chest when I see it’s the silver charm bracelet that Stella bought for me when I turned eight. The only gift that ever meant anything to me.

  “I have a present for you,” she said, pushing it toward me on the table.

  “I don’t like presents,” I mumbled, but it was hard to look away from the bright yellow wrapping paper and yellow bow. Yellow was my favorite color.

  “I know,” she replied, and her voice sounded sad to me. I didn’t want her to be sad because she was my friend. She picked up the small, square box and shook it just a little bit. I heard something rattling around and got excited, bouncing in my seat. Only because it was Stella.

  I felt my lips doing a funny quiver and she smiled back at me. She had the whitest teeth I’d ever seen. She must have used special toothpaste.

  “Okay.” I took the gift from her hand and quickly tore away the paper. When I opened the box, I found the prettiest silver bracelet with puppies and kittens hanging from it. They were my favorite. I think my eyes and my mouth must have smiled at the same time because when I looked up at her, I could see all of her teeth. But then my throat felt funny and I wanted to cry. Instead, I remembered what Mommy said and sniffed in big to hold back my tears. “I love doggies and kitty cats,” I said, touching each one.

  “I know you do,” she said, and then she kissed me on the cheek. “Happy Birthday, Nessa.”

  And then I gasp as something hits me with so much force I can barely breathe. She did know. Because she cared enough to know.

  I blink back the tears that are desperate to fall, my chest expanding with euphoria. All those years I thought that I was unlovable, that there was no one who cared about me, when all along there was someone right in front of me who did.

  “Where did you get that?” I ask, the words a choppy jumble from my mouth.

  He glances down at the fragile, tarnished piece of jewelry, faded from time. “We were cleaning out the house and I came across it. I kept it for you because I knew it was important to you.” And then the latch clicks, closing the door on everything that happened here tonight, leaving me wondering if I’ll be able to open the one he wants to walk through.

  The sky is bathed in darkness, a replica of my pensive mood, as I blindly make my way toward Rex’s apartment. My mind is spinning in confusion, unable to make sense of my father’s words. The consistent band of insecurity that tightens around my waist still makes me wonder if he has an ulterior motive.

  The moment Rex opens the door, it’s as if I’ve walked into the light. I launch myself into his arms, all of the anger and confusion consuming me becomes one big blur and melts away. Large hands grip my waist, holding me, and I feel safe and protected. His strength has become my harbor in this crazy storm that is my life. I’ve come to rely on him. And while it scares me, it’s exhilarating at the same time. Something I never thought could happen—with anyone.

  “Whoa.” He squeezes me tight, his hand coming up to stroke my hair. “I’m happy to see you too. Hey,” he says when I don’t respond, “you okay?”

  I shake my head against his chest, continuing to nestle myself as close as possible, trying to stifle the emotion that wants to come pouring out. He won’t let me hide though, another thing I love—I mean, appreciate about him. Instead, he pulls us apart, taking my face in his hands, his rich, brown eyes searching for the truth in mine.

  “No, you’re not okay. Come tell me what happened with your dad.” He intertwines our fingers, leading us over to the sofa.

  We sit down and recline against the back of the couch. Rex pivots to face me, giving me his full attention. The conversation with my father comes rushing back, making me feel lightheaded. I’m unable to reconcile who he used to be with the man who showed up tonight.

  “I don’t understand what’s happened to him,” I begin. “He told me he was sorry for everything, that he wanted to make it right, to start over. And….” I clench my fists in my lap. “I wanted to hate him. I thought that I did hate him. So my first reaction was to push back, to be angry and resentful, because it doesn’t matter now. Where the hell was he when I needed him? But,” I let out a pained sigh, “after he left I realized maybe it does matter. Maybe there’s a part of me that still wants him in my life.”

  “Of course. He’s your father.” Rex strums my palm with his knuckle, soothing me.

  “You know.” I tug at the ends of my hair. “Growing up, I
always felt like there was something wrong with me because I didn’t have the perfect family like everyone else I knew, and somehow that made me less than in some way, that made me broken.”

  “Not broken, baby,” he says with a half-smile. “A little bit bent like the rest of us maybe, but never broken.”

  My eyes move to our hands. “He said he wants to know if we can try to build something, get to know each other now. I just don’t know if I have it in me to forgive him.”

  “Hey.” Rex takes his finger, tapping underneath my chin, and I lift my head. “I think you do. I think your capacity to forgive is enormous, because your heart is so big.”

  The meaning behind his words and the sincerity in his eyes trigger a kaleidoscope of emotions to rocket through my body. A dam bursts as years of sadness, regret, and anger rise to the surface, along with something else more powerful that I’ve yet to put a name to, and I can no longer hold back. My mother’s words finally disintegrate as the tears course down my cheeks.

  “I don’t cry,” I hiccup through a sob, no longer making any attempts to hide from him.

  “Yeah, so you’ve said.” A tear lands on his thumb and another follows in its path. “Crying doesn’t make you weak, baby. It makes you human.”

  I press a hand against my face, trying to disappear again. “When I’m like this, I—I just don’t want you to see me.”

  He removes my hand, taking it between both of his. “It’s too late, baby. You’re the only one I’ve seen since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  My breathing stalls and I can’t get it to start up again. Rex tucks a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, his head angled to the side, eyes dancing over my face.

  “I haven’t been completely honest with you.” His voice is hoarse, and my stomach plummets to the ground, anticipating those next words that will send me running out the door with a broken heart—because somewhere, deep down, I knew this was too good to be true.

  “When I came home that night on my birthday, I was upset about what the day reminded me of, yes, but there was something else I couldn’t tell you. I wanted to push you away, for you to get as far from me as possible, because I was afraid I would end up hurting you.” He caresses my cheek with his hand, his gaze burrowing into mine. “But when you left that picture of Tyler and me, you showed me a piece of your heart and then walked away… and I realized in that moment that I wanted you more than I was willing to let you go.”

  His other hand comes up to my cheek, his eyes continuing to hold me prisoner. “I—I couldn’t have dreamed you up if I tried. Because you’re too perfect. Too giving, too warm, too beautiful, and probably too good for me. But… the truth is, you make me want to try harder to be better, to be someone who deserves you.

  “I don’t like to fall, you know? And believe me when I tell you I’ve fallen a lot in my life. I’ve been banged up, bruised, fucked up more times and in more ways than I can even count. But I’m not afraid to fall anymore. The only thing I’m fucking terrified of, is that you won’t be there to catch me when I do.”

  “Rex, I—”

  He silences me with a finger to my lips. “I’m falling in love with you, Blondie.”

  “What?” I question in a whisper.

  Gentle thumbs stroll over my skin, the warmth of his hands and his words making my own fear evaporate. “I said, I’m falling in love with you.”

  Pure joy, an emotion I’ve not known before now, encourages more tears to break free, rolling down my face and across his fingers. But this time I smile through them.

  “You’re doing that no crying thing again,” he teases, and I can’t do anything but stare into his eyes. The only eyes I ever want to see me this vulnerable. The only eyes I want looking at me the way he is right now.

  “I owe you an apology.” I reach out and smooth a fringe of hair from his face, a tiny wrinkle of confusion revealing itself. “I accused you of using your past to lash out, all the while I’ve been doing pretty much the same thing.”

  “I don’t understand.” He leans into my hand when it reaches his cheek.

  “I may not have been lashing out, but I used my past to keep me from my future, from trusting you, from opening myself up to you and letting you in, for fear that you’d hurt me the way they did. You’re not them. I know that now. And I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t owe me any apologies.”

  “Oh, but I do. Because now I can clearly see what’s right in front of me. I can feel without barriers. And I can finally tell you that I’m in love with you, Rex.”

  “Say it again,” he demands, his mouth practically on top of mine now, his breath kissing me in a whisper.

  “I’m in love with you.” I barely get the words out before his lips are on me, warm and sweet. And I close my eyes and give in, opening myself up to him in every way.

  Willingly. Happily. Finally.

  She’s in love with me. Me. The guy who didn’t understand what the fucking word meant, never mind actually having a shot at it.

  And I did it. I pushed past the fear of loss and admitted something I’ve been feeling for a while but was unable to voice. That I’m falling in love with her, too.

  I part her lips with mine, kissing her slow and tender, and she tastes even better now if that’s possible. But I suppose loves does that.

  Who knew?

  She pushes me down on the couch, draping her entire body over me and I shudder, filled with a bone-crushing desire more fierce than anything I’ve ever felt before. I’ve said the words, but now I want to show her how much she means to me.

  Our lips and tongues tangle, and I feel how much she wants me, not just with her body, but with her heart. And it’s fucking amazing to be wanted this way. Especially by her. Only by her.

  And if I’m lucky—always by her.

  Taking her lips from mine, she breaks our connection, her blue eyes dotted with so much emotion it nearly takes my breath away. “Rex, I want… well…,” she bites her lip, “I know it’s going to sound strange, but….”

  “Hey,” I tell her, setting her lip free, “nothing you say is strange. What is it?”

  “I’ve… I’ve never made love before,” her throat moves on a swallow, “and I want to… with you.”

  “Well I haven’t either, you know? So it’s kind of a first for both of us.” I roll her over and we end up on the carpet laughing, which was not my intention.

  “Is this your idea of foreplay?” she jokes, and I pinch her ass.

  “Oh, baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” I manage to tear myself off of her, grabbing onto her arms and pulling her up. “Let’s go, hot stuff. I think we should move this to the master suite.”

  A laugh leaks out, so loud, so happy, and I decide I don’t want to ever stop hearing that sound.

  “Master suite,” she kids when we get to my room, but there’s an uneasiness in her tone and I want to take it away. “I’m nervous,” she admits, glancing down at her hands, and that’s when I notice she’s shaking.

  Immediately, I gather her hands in mine, steadying her. “Why are you nervous? I’ve seen you naked before; I can map your body with my eyes closed,” I remind her, trying to lighten the anxiety. But there’s still no sign of her eyes, and I need to see them. Her truth is always there. “I need you to look at me.”

  Big, beautiful pools of blue finally stare back at me and I’m gone. I’m so fucking gone.

  “I’m nervous because… now you can see my heart.”

  I trace a pattern down the side of her face, starting with her hairline, moving down past her eyebrow, the curve of her cheek, her chin. “Well, you know what? I’m nervous, too,” I tell her, and she shows me that dimpled smile.

  “You are?” she asks, surprise lighting her gaze.

  “Yes, but it’s more than that.” I run a finger down her bare arm and she shivers. “I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you in this moment. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted anything more in my entire life.”

  “Yo
u’re getting pretty good with this sappy stuff. So whatever you’re doing, keep it up,” she urges, her lips doing a soft brush over mine. “And now would be a perfect time to kiss me. Like really kiss me.”

  So I do.

  And it’s a fucking explosion—of lips and tongue and feeling—of everything we’ve been holding back. Her arms loop around my neck and mine surround her waist, every body part touching, hearts pounding with such force that I can’t determine where hers ends and mine begins.

  Warm hands slip under my shirt, making me shiver. The gentle skim of her fingertips, her touch, giving me a high unlike anything else. I rub my cock against her and she mewls softly, propelling me closer.

  Breathless, she puts a stop to the kiss, lips swollen, eyes darkened. She lowers her hands, lifting my t-shirt away before gliding her nails over the planes of flexing muscle, tracing the lines of my tattoo. Her fingers work their way down to the clasp of my jeans, flicking it open. That’s when I reach down and grip her wrist, halting her from going any further.

  “I want to undress you,” I say, and the confusion in her features melts away. She immediately drops her hands to her sides, giving me free rein over her body.

  Squatting down, I take the ruffled hem of her dress between my fingers and rise to my feet, slowly lifting it up as I go, letting my eyes rove over her form as the dress falls away to the carpet.

  “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”

  Taking my palm, I smooth it down the curve of her neck, her collarbone, the dip between her breasts. I can feel the hammering of her heart beneath my fingers and my own heart gallops inside my chest, knowing what I mean to her now. For some reason, she chose me.