Lowry blows a breath through his nose and shakes his head, bowing it again.
“Being the cause of you losing something you wanted so desperately, it sent me reeling. I can’t say I was making rational choices. All I could think of was to run, get out of here where my presence could hurt you. I didn’t think enough about how my absence would hurt you, partly because Tad is… Christ, he’s awful. He threatened to have you committed.”
Any air I’d managed to breathe back into my lungs leaves again, this time through something that feels like a horse kick to my chest, which would explain why my voice comes out as a croak. “What?”
“It’s ridiculous, and it wouldn’t work. No one who isn’t total shit at their job would ever consider it and Lacey knows better, would fight tooth and nail not to let that happen and so would I and anyone else on staff here. But the threat of it…I thought of how that would make you feel, how it would make the board see you. If he made it public, how ugly and disgusting it could get. If I’d had more time and less rage, I might’ve thought of a better way to handle it, but all I could think was that I had to get away from you, needed for them to think I wasn’t a party to your decisions and that I wasn’t influencing you. How I could do that if I wasn’t here, if I’d…”
His skin has gone from its usual faintly ruddy cast to grey.
“If I’d left you again. Made me sick to do it, but I thought it would be easier in the short term, until you figured out what you wanted to do with Patrick Enterprises and got the gears turning well enough no one could stop it. I didn’t want to be the reason you lost something so important to you.”
He shuts his eyes tight before opening them again, and pins me with the intensity of his gaze.
“The truth of it is that I love you, Starla Elizabeth Patrick. I love you with everything I have, with everything I ever will have, and I should’ve told you sooner.”
He loves me? I mean, I could’ve perhaps guessed that. Hell, I even went so far to tell Doctor Gendron I think he might. But once you’ve had voices whispering in your ear for twenty-odd years that you’re unlovable, not worth anyone’s time or attention, and then too damaged or too much trouble to be worth caring for, well. It makes those words far more difficult to believe. Even if I do…
That’s when the tears start to fall in earnest. I don’t tend to cry a lot so maybe it’s the hormones, or maybe it’s that I’m overwhelmed with the emotional roller coaster I’ve been on for the past several months. For someone who’s spent so much of their life feeling somewhere around numb, all of this is a lot. Just, a lot.
“Star, love, why are you crying? Is it really so bad? Would you rather I take it back?”
Under the teasing rhythm of his words, there’s a note of panic, and I try to stamp it out by banging a fist on his solid chest.
“No, you son of a bantha. I’m mad I might not remember this. How dare you tell me this now? You know my memory is shit right after treatments.”
He makes a gruff noise and mutters something I can’t quite make out, but then he’s off his feet and scooping me up before settling onto the hospital bed with me in his lap, cradling my head against his shoulder where I weep. He rocks me and pets my hair—pets, not pats because there’s a goddamn distinction—and murmurs to me, the soft tones of whatever nonsense he’s speaking soothing. When some of the storm’s blown out, he takes my chin between his thumb and knuckle until I’m looking at him, tear-streaked cheeks, red nose and all.
“Did I make you sick by picking you up?”
I shake my head.
“Good. I didn’t think until after I’d done it, so I’m sorry. I couldn’t…”
He tightens his grip on my flank where his other hand is resting.
“I’m sorry I cocked this up. I’ve been thinking it so long, you’d think I’d’ve had a better plan. But here we are. I promise you, though, you don’t have to worry about forgetting. I’ll tell you every day. Because every day I’ve loved you—it’ll be far easier to say the words out loud than to keep swallowing them. I love you, Star. Always have, even when I shouldn’t have. Always will, because I don’t know how not to love you.”
“You fucker. I hope you have that memorized because you’re going to have to say it over and over.”
“I will, don’t you worry. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore. I know you will, but you should know I’ll be right there beside you and I hope you have enough faith in me to believe I’ll help whenever I can. Of course, you’ll need to smack me upside the head sometimes too. You need to give yourself more credit. I have just enough good sense to love you. Probably not much more than that, though.”
“Shush, you. You’re not perfect but you’re pretty darn close. Fine upstanding man you are, Doctor Lowry Campbell. Fine enough that I trust you when I haven’t trusted anyone else. You handle me like I’m precious, which is sometimes a lot to take, but it’s… I love it. And that being true, I’ve got to tell you something.”
I look down at my hands, feeling a bit disconnected from them. So I look back at Lowry. “I was in a really bad place when you left. Like went past devastated and all the way to feeling numb. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. I mean, I obviously found the wherewithal to deal with it, show up for my appointment and push the sale of my shares through because intellectually I knew it would help even if emotionally I felt like nothing could. I’m telling you because… I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t be, but I need you to know it still happens sometimes, that swamping numbness. It’s not and probably won’t ever be a hundred percent under control and if you can’t stick around for that…”
He makes a choked noise and holds me tighter. “I’m sorry, Star. So sorry. I should’ve thought, I should’ve known, and I failed you. I did. There’s no way to deny it and I won’t because I fucked it up. I can give you my most heartfelt apologies, tell you I am so, so sorry. And I can say I’m glad you’re telling me now. It’s not fun to hear, it hurts my heart, but it’s important for me to know. I always want to know, even if it’s scary. Especially if it’s scary. That’s what—”
He stops himself short and I hear the hitch in his breath.
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“Were you going to say that’s what my daddy’s here for? Because I kind of wish you would have.”
He barks a startled laugh and clutches me, kisses the top of my head and rocks me a bit. Makes my eyes water.
“I wanted to. Didn’t think I deserved to. I’d do anything to earn back the privilege if you’ll give me the chance.”
Maybe I’m foolish, and perhaps I’m inviting more heartache, but I want him. Can’t in fact imagine what my life would be like without him.
“And if I do, give you another chance…would you want to be a father or would that be too much for you? I don’t want to put that on you because I know—”
Lowry takes my chin in a firm grip as he leans away. “When you said it first, I did—I got that squeeze of panic. Certainty that I’m not fit to be a father, that I’ve got that monstrous blood coursing through my veins. But then I heard you telling me that was nonsense. And I believe you. Not because I want to exactly, but because I believe in you. So I have to say that it’s up to you, but I think I’d like to be a dad. Like to think I wouldn’t be a total cock-up about it. I mean, obviously, I’d need you around to make sure, but…”
His gaze roams my face, concentrating on my red, puffy eyes.
“But it sounds like you’re not so certain. Do you not want to have a baby? Or did you not want to have a baby with me?”
Tension shapes his jaw, though he’s doing his best to hide it. Perhaps he’s forgotten that as closely as he studied me for all those years, I studied him too.
“You’re about the only person I’d even consider having a baby with, but…”
I swallow and look down, embarrassed to be still clutching the grody tissues. I’m supposed to be a mom, how? Although I suppose holding disgusting things is
a core parental duty, so maybe I’ll be all right.
“But what?”
Blinking more rising tears out of the way, I force myself to look at him.
“But you know about my mother. As much as you’re afraid of being like your uncle, I’m terrified of being like her. And when you left me…”
The overwhelming feeling of sick rises in my throat.
“Hey, listen to me. You’re not like your mother. Your mother’s condition was untreated, unmedicated, she insisted there was nothing wrong. You know better. You have faithfully and conscientiously taken care of yourself, and look at all you’ve done. You have a wonderful life, one that you protect by slaying demons all the damn time. I didn’t know your mother, but from what your father said about her…she seemed more likely to dance with her demons than fight.
“And regardless of whether you want me romantically or not, I’m not going to leave you to raise a child by yourself if you want to have the baby. I wouldn’t dream of it. Not because I don’t think you’re capable, but because that’s a lot for anyone to handle. And I might be wrong, but it hasn’t ever seemed to me that you were desperate to have children. It’s hard enough to deal with children when you desperately want them, and I would imagine it’s harder when you aren’t completely sure.”
“And you don’t think dealing with two of us would be too much? If she ends up like me?”
His jaw flexes and his brows nearly meet in the middle. I’ve said something wrong. He’s really considering what it would be like now, and it’s hit home that it would be miserable. I should’ve kept my mouth shut and let Saint Lowry sacrifice himself.
“First, I don’t think of it as ‘dealing’ with you. I’m sorry people have made you feel that way and I wasn’t loud enough about how wonderful you are to drown the rest of the voices out. It’s a privilege to know you. Yes, you have your struggles, but so do we all, and you’re more conscientious about yours than most anyone I know. And you still find it in you to take care of other people, use all you know to help others who have some of the same difficulties. You’ve spent untold hours listening and learning so you can help people who are different from you too. You’re brilliant, love, and not just anyone could build the business you have. I wish there were a million more people like you; the world would be a better place if there were.”
For fuck’s sake. I didn’t go fishing for compliments, but the way he’s looking at me, and talking…I should climb in a boat with a can of worms and toss my line in the compliment pond every goddamn day. The sweet things he’s saying are food for my soul. I feel nourished and treasured.
Will his words always be enough to silence the ones that depression whispers to me? No, of course not. That’s not how things work. But that’s why I have my ECT. It’s like a bomb that takes out most of the threat, and Lowry could be a sniper, taking down the small doubts that crop up one by one. But he’s not magic. For all of the wonderful things about him, he’s not a wizard, and it wouldn’t be fair to treat him as if he is one.
“Second—” Oh my, he’s not done yet. “Second, you’ve done all the hard work already. If she inherits your depression, we’re not starting from ground zero. She’ll be different for sure, but we wouldn’t be flailing around in the dark, grasping at anything. You’ve shone a light on how your depression works and that will be helpful. We’ll recognize the signs because you went through it all. We’ll be able to offer help sooner and I think your dad, as much as he loved you, also bought into the stigma of getting help for mental health. We don’t have that barrier. Also, you keep saying ‘she.’ Are you certain it’s a girl? I thought it would be too soon to know.”
Mmm, yes, that’s a little embarrassing. “I don’t know know. Like, it hasn’t been confirmed by science or anything, but I…I can’t explain it. I just know. From the second I found out, I’ve thought of her as, well, her.”
He smiles at me, a turning up of the corner of his mouth. Slightly lopsided but none the less handsome for that. This man, he kills me.
“All right then. She. Her. I’d count myself lucky to have you both. If that’s an option.”
I think, foolish or not, it is.
“Do you… When we have the baby, if we have the baby, do you think…”
I bite my lip because I hate to ask, but it matters. Not that I’ll change my mind about wanting to be with him, but it might take some more negotiating our precise relationship, where I’m getting which of my needs.
“Do you think I can still be your little girl? Even when we have our own little girl?”
“Oh, is that what you were worried about, love? I don’t think you need to. I can be someone’s father and still be your daddy. Now that I’ve had a taste of what we can be like together, I don’t think I could give it up. We’ll have to see how we feel because things can change, but yes, I have no intention of giving up my little girl. You’re too sweet. I think if I bit you, sunk my teeth into your flesh, I’d end up with a face slick with juice, like I’d bitten into a perfectly ripe peach.”
I have to giggle, and when he looks at me, a question in those blue eyes, I flush. “I, um, don’t know if you’d get a mouthful of peach juice if you bit me, but maybe if you…”
There’s a flash in his eyes, and he knows what I’m saying. Of course, he’ll want to hear it anyway. Make me blush and stutter and get me slick and swollen between my legs.
“If I what, sweetheart? Hmm?”
“If you licked me.”
“Like this?”
His tongue dances over the side of my neck, from my shoulder to my earlobe where he nips and sucks.
Just like that I’m jelly in his arms, soft and pliable while being squirmy with need.
“No, Daddy,” I whisper, and he bites, sending a bolt of desire straight from where he’s mouthing my body to where I’d like him to be. “I want you to lick my pussy. Please, Daddy?”
He fairly growls in that sweet spot between ear and jaw.
“I’ll do more than that, little girl. I’m going to tie you up with your legs spread wide open for me and you’re going to come half a dozen times, only the first time with my mouth. I’m going to lick at that sweet little pussy of yours until my mouth is covered with you, until you come all over my face. And that will be just the beginning.”
I squeak because dear god, there is nothing I’d like better, but I really ought to not be getting so aroused here of all places. And god, what if Dr. Gendron comes in? Or one of my nurses? This is a rather, um, compromising position, for the both of us.
“Yes, please, Daddy. Take me home already. Please.”
“I will. As soon as you get checked out and they say you’re good to go. You seem fine, but I’m not going to risk my little girl. What kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”
“Not a good one, and you’re the best.”
I give him one of my little smiles. Not that it’s small, because it’s not. It’s one of those completely free, adoring, full of worship and trust and yes, love, which reminds me. I’m kind of awful.
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“I love you. I should’ve said it before and I hope you haven’t been wondering if I don’t love you back. Because I do. Bunches and bunches.”
I slip my arms around his neck and bury my face in his neck because if I think about precisely how much I love him, I might start to cry again. It’s…a lot. More than feels safe, to be honest. But he’s not going to let anything bad happen to me. He’s going to protect me and keep me safe, and I’ll do my best to return the favor.
I know from the way he holds me so tight against him that he knows how much I love him and he’s doing his best to take it all in, to hold it, but it’s going to overflow because that’s how full of it I am. It cannot be contained. And spilling all over the place doesn’t feel so scary anymore.
Epilogue
Lowry
The sun is beating down on this perfect spring day. No, not beating.
Definitely more like beaming. As though it’s rather pleased with how everything has turned out and is bestowing its glory upon us to tell us so. I happen to agree.
I do have to shade my eyes to see down the lengthy driveway, but then I see her. Hair flying behind her helmet, pedaling like mad with a goofy smile on her face as her streamers blow back. Glorious.
“Look, Ava,” I say, pointing in Starla’s direction. I had the good sense to put a sun hat on her, so unlike me, she doesn’t have to squint to see down the ribbon of pavement. “Here comes Mummy on her bike. When you’re a little older, we’ll teach you how to ride a bike. Would you like that, jelly bean?”
She holds out her chubby fists, reaching for Starla even from this far away. I am most definitely a second-class citizen in Ava’s big blue eyes. Maybe because she sees me more I’m old news? I cut down to half-time at Harbinson when Ava was born eight months ago while Star took a few months leave and didn’t take on new consulting clients but meets with Jerome regularly. Keeps her busy, happy, feeling capable and satisfied, and she still spends plenty of time with our daughter.
Ava loves me, I’m sure, falls asleep in my arms most nights as I read her stories or sing, and she’s got the sweetest baby gurgles when I reach into her crib to pick her up in the mornings. But she adores her mother. Will choose Star every time if she’s got a choice. I don’t blame her. I’d choose Starla over most anyone else too.
Finally Star comes to a stop in front of us, her cheeks pink with the exertion of riding up and down, up and down the drive. It’s hilly out here at her father’s house. Which I really ought to start thinking of as ours since we moved in over six months ago. It’s an enormous place, we don’t occupy even a third of it, but with the way Star looks at Ava, I wouldn’t be surprised if given a few years another bedroom or two are occupied.
“That was fun! I think I’m getting faster, what do you think?”
“I think you’re right. And Ava agrees. Don’t you?”
For Her Own Good Page 41