When The Stars Align

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When The Stars Align Page 24

by Jeanette Grey


  Adam hadn’t said the words aloud, but the words were unnecessary. All the signs she’d always looked for from her father—the care and patience and attention—Adam showed to her in spades.

  Jo wasn’t that desperate, sad, lonely kid anymore. She was a grown woman. A smart one, an accomplished one. She was a scientist and an A student and she was capable of being cared for.

  She deserved it.

  And she wasn’t hovering in this doorway for a second more.

  Sure enough, her dad didn’t look up at all as she made her way toward the service line. She got her coffee and picked out a mediocre muffin and paid for them both, then turned toward the tables.

  Did you ever talk about it with him? That’s what Adam had asked her last night, and she had laughed. It’d seemed so impossible, so absurd.

  Her heart in her throat, she crossed the distance to his table. With the last few steps, her gait faltered, but she lifted her chin and threw her shoulders back. She slipped into the chair across from him and felt like her lungs were squeezing her.

  Her father’s gaze darted up, a casual glance before he buried it again in the text splayed out across his tablet. But before Jo could curse herself or rise or say something stupid, he raised his head in a near-comical double take that he barely managed to recover from. “Josephine.”

  She bristled, but no. She was here to be a reasonable person, or as close to one as she got. “I prefer Jo.”

  “It’s not what your mother named you.”

  Yeah, because that wasn’t a fucking cheap shot. “No. It’s not.”

  The past was a thing that happened. You could be hemmed in by it forever. Or you could redefine yourself, choose over and over and over again to be someone better. Someone new.

  He gave a suppressed little snort and turned the screen of his tablet off, then leaned back in his chair and grasped his mug. “You’re looking better than you did last night.”

  She was feeling better, too. Still, the way his eyes took her in said he didn’t think her appearance was all that much improved.

  She made a conscious effort of shrugging. “We’d been at the beach all day and hadn’t had a chance to get cleaned up.”

  “The beach?”

  She’d ask if that was really so hard to believe if she weren’t entirely aware that it was. “It was nice.”

  “Good.”

  Neither of them spoke for a long moment. It would’ve been so easy to just let it go at that. To tell him to have a nice rest of his trip and head to work. The worst of the awkwardness would be over, on the off chance they did have to see each other again.

  She’d be able to say she hadn’t run.

  Except that wasn’t what she was here for.

  She sucked her lip ring between her teeth and worried it with her tongue. Then she lifted her gaze from the table, and for the first time in she didn’t even know how long, she looked her father straight in the eye. “What are you doing here?”

  She wanted to punch herself for the way her voice wavered at the end, but damn it all, she should be able to show some emotion here. It didn’t have to be a sign of weakness that his answer mattered.

  His mouth darted down toward a frown. “We observe here regularly. It’s got the best sensors for the objects we’re studying. You know that.”

  And she did. Of course she did. But… “That’s it?”

  “What else would there be?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” A low ball of fire sparked in her lungs, a tightness she’d been trying for so long to deny. A single ember flew loose and fought its way into her throat. “Maybe something about your freaking daughter being here.”

  “Josephine—”

  “You couldn’t have told me? Sent an e-mail, or hell, had one of your lab monkeys send one? Anything?”

  “I didn’t think…” He had the balls to look genuinely confused.

  In a flash, the flames licked upward and spread. “You didn’t think. Of course you didn’t think. What kind of dad would possibly even dream of thinking about their only damn kid and how she might feel if her father just showed up at her job out of the blue. Not because he”—shit, she was actually going to say this out loud—“wanted to see her or anything. But because he had regularly scheduled work to do.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “None of this is fair!” How many times had she screamed that into her pillow at night. It isn’t fair, it isn’t fair, it isn’t fair. Even last night, it’d been one of the first thoughts to come to mind. “It isn’t fair that you blindsided me like that or that the first goddamn thing you said to me in person after two years is that you didn’t like what I was wearing. You haven’t even asked me how I am—” She cut herself off, an ugly choked sound that tasted like bile in her mouth. Because that was what burned the most.

  He stared at her as if he’d never seen her before, and maybe, in a lot of ways, he hadn’t. “You haven’t exactly invited a conversation.”

  Somewhere in the distance, a seven-year-old’s heart shattered and broke. “Why should I have to?”

  She’d gone through so many different rationales over the course of her life. She’d explained it to herself that he was sad and in mourning, or that he was angry, or that he just didn’t care. That she was unlovable, and her best defense was to never give anyone the chance to not love her again.

  But maybe it’d never occurred to him.

  Maybe he’d never realized he should care. Maybe it’d never been her at all.

  Her ribs were the circle carved into the ground, the line of scorched earth, laid waste to keep the flames at bay, and inside, she was a conflagration. She rose, scarcely able to breathe for the smoke in her lungs.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, because she was. Sorry she’d ever imagined this could be worth her time. “I can’t do this.”

  Except…

  Did you ever talk about it with him?

  Instead of storming off like she wanted to, she rounded on him. “I’m sorry your wife died, and I’m sorry you didn’t get to have the son you always wanted. But I’m not sorry I didn’t ‘invite a conversation.’ That was your job, twenty-one years ago, and you sucked at it. I don’t care why. I don’t even want to know. I just. I tried so hard to make you happy, and it was all a waste, wasn’t it? Because you were never going to be.” She drew in a ragged, burning breath. “You were never going to be proud of me.”

  She picked up her coffee with shaking hands. “So I’m done. I’m going to live my life, and it’s amazing. I’m doing so damn well, Dad. I may have gone into science to impress you, but I love it, and I kick ass at it. I have top grades, and the best summer job in the world, and I’m going to go to a better grad school than you did. I have a… a fantastic boyfriend. And I’m just… I’m going to be fine. I’m going to be great. All on my own.”

  But not alone. Not anymore.

  Adam had been right after all. She’d been holding on to that hurt for so long. She filled her lungs with air, and it was cool water, dousing the flames. All that was left inside of her was ash, but that was fine. Ash was the soil from which new things grew.

  She was really going to be okay.

  As satisfied as she was ever going to be, she turned around. Her father’s gaze bore into her, but she kept on walking, her head held high.

  “Josephine… Jo.”

  She wasn’t going to stop, but the nickname caught her by surprise. She paused, heart pounding, still facing away. Closing her eyes, she waited. Listening. He had until the count of ten and then she was walking, moving on with her day and her life and—

  “I know you’re great. I know you’re… incredible.”

  It was the last thing in the world she’d ever expected to hear, much less in that tone of voice. Screaming at herself in her head, telling herself not to invite this kind of trouble, she looked backward over her shoulder.

  She blinked and blinked again, because instead of the powerful, unapproachable lord of the manor who’d presided o
ver her home, there sat an old man. Not ancient, but tired, his spine bent, hair graying.

  He caught her gaze and seemed to realize his chance. “Will you sit down again? Please?” He glanced toward the serving area. It was still mostly empty, but a couple of people had started trickling in.

  Maybe it was cowardice, helping him avoid making a scene—or any more of one, in any case. But she had to work here a few more weeks, too. Feet leaden, she crossed the distance to him and perched on the edge of her seat, ready to go if he said one more wrong thing.

  He hesitated for a moment, thumb moving against the rim of his mug. “You’re right. You have no reason to be sorry.” Well, at least he was off to a good start. “I was a miserable excuse for a father while you were growing up, and I never figured out a way to fix it. You don’t want to hear my excuses, so I won’t give them to you. But believe me. I know.”

  She sat there, speechless.

  So he continued on. “The summer after your freshman year of college, you made it very clear you had no intention of coming home again.”

  She had. The instant the dorms had opened up, she’d been out the door. She hadn’t waited for a ride to the airport. And she hadn’t left a damn thing behind.

  “You had every right not to want a relationship. I’ve done my best to respect your wishes.”

  What? “You—” she sputtered, unsure where to even begin.

  “But I’ve watched you. I’ve followed your career. Pulled whatever strings I could for you.”

  He’d—Oh, fuck.

  Her cheeks flushed hot while the rest of her went ice cold. “You what?”

  After she’d told all the other interns that she’d gotten here on her own merits. After she’d judged them all for needing connections. She’d worried herself sick about being Dr. Kramer’s daughter, but when no one had called her out on it, she’d thought she’d avoided the association. That she’d forged her own path, never asking for a favor, never dropping a name. Sure, she’d known all along that her father had some pull here, but she couldn’t have dreamed—

  He’d never stuck up for her before.

  He held up a hand, like he could hear her protest. “You never needed it. You were always a top applicant, but I made whatever calls I could.”

  “How did you even know I applied here?”

  His smile was small and sad. “Where else would my daughter want to go? You never did set your sights low, Jo.” He struggled visibly with the name. “It’s part of why I’m so proud of you.”

  It was like the floor falling out from underneath her.

  Finally, she managed to choke out, “This doesn’t change everything.”

  “I didn’t imagine it would.” His hands flexed around his coffee mug.

  The same way her fingers wrapped so tightly around her own.

  “But,” he said, “if you were willing, maybe we could finish having coffee together. Talk. A little.”

  He didn’t even deserve that much. But being angry was exhausting, and the freedom she’d felt walking away from him hadn’t been about the walking away. It’d been about letting go.

  Despite every instinct telling her she should, she didn’t get up. She raised her coffee to her lips. And took a sip.

  Adam dozed for another hour or so after Jo snuck out. By the time his alarm went off, he was basically awake, but he lay there a little longer anyway.

  How was it possible to feel so drained and so energized at the same time? Jo had worn him out last night, emotionally and physically. He’d given her everything he could, and he’d received more than enough in return. She’d been so pliant beneath him, that spark that had always drawn him in still there, but a layer of her armor stripped away. She’d shown him who she was beneath it all and fallen asleep in his arms. The well of love inside him ran almost too deep.

  How was he supposed to go back if she decided to raise her walls again?

  He wanted her any way he could have her, but Jo herself had warned him never to wait for someone to feel about him how he felt about them. His first few weeks here, missing Shannon had proven her words a hundredfold. He couldn’t go through that again, holding out for scraps.

  He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then threw the covers off and sat up. Lounging around here worrying about what happened now wasn’t going to help him any. He’d get up and get moving, and Jo would do whatever and be whomever she wanted to be today. And he’d be patient—with her father still here, she was going through so much. But after that…

  God, he hoped she wouldn’t shut him out.

  He skipped his run and scarfed down a bucketful of cold cereal for breakfast as opposed to braving the cafeteria. By the time he left, Tom was already gone, and Jared’s door was closed, Kim’s bathing suit hung up to dry in the shower leaving him with a pretty good lead as to what was going on there. So he made the trek up to the observatory alone.

  And he really was planning to head straight to his office. But when he went to turn down the hallway that would take him there, a nagging voice in his head had him turning around. It wouldn’t be overkill to swing by Jo’s office and say hi. Hell, it wouldn’t even be all that far outside the norm. Most mornings, his visits weren’t about checking in on her, though. She didn’t usually have a reason to accuse him of coddling her or acting like she was fragile.

  Well, he wouldn’t act like that now, no matter how shattered she had seemed the night before.

  Decided, he picked a direction and quickened his pace.

  Only to find her office door closed.

  That was weird. He knocked regardless, but there wasn’t any answer. Across the hall, one of the other staff scientists tapped away at his computer. Adam considered asking him if Jo had been in today, but the guy looked pretty engrossed. And besides, after he’d made out with Jo on the beach yesterday, there’d be more than enough fodder for the rumor mill without him giving them any more.

  He retreated to his own office, which was empty, too. He let himself in and set his bag down beside his desk. A sticky note from Lisa said that she and Heather were working in the library for the morning, so at least that explained Jo and Heather’s space being completely deserted. Maybe Jo was with them? He shook his head. Something still seemed off.

  Not a whole hell of a lot he could do about it. He fired up his computer and sat down. In another hour, he’d go get a soda and skulk around some more, see if Jo was in, or maybe think up a question to go ask Lisa.

  In the meantime, he settled in to try and get some work done. Except he couldn’t focus. Protectiveness flared inside him. What if Jo’d run into her dad again? Her reaction last night had been bad, but if she felt cornered, it might be even worse.

  She could be somewhere alone right now. Hurting.

  He smacked his fist against the desk and spun around in his chair.

  Only to find Jo in the doorway, staring at him. Eyes glistening.

  Oh, hell.

  He rose in a single motion and crossed the room, hands going to her arms, her face, her side. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  But she just shook her head. Slipping past him, she stepped inside, then motioned for him to shut the door. It closed with a click, leaving the two of them there in that space.

  “Jo…”

  She gazed at him, an expression he’d never seen before on her face, one he didn’t know how to read.

  His heart stuttered in his chest, his mind skipping straight to the worst possibilities. Something had happened. Something bad, and it was all his fault. She’d made herself vulnerable for him last night, and he’d taken advantage. Maybe literally. They’d both been so lost in each other, and making love to her had felt so right. Only, what if it hadn’t felt right to her?

  But then she smiled, and it was a hole punched clear through his chest, but in a good way. The best way. It was the most open smile, the most beautiful one, pure Jo but different.

  Free.

  He sucked in a breath, daring to hope. “Jo?”

&nbs
p; “You were right,” she said, and then she was launching herself at him.

  He caught her without a second thought, thrown back against the wall beneath the weight of her body and the weight of his feelings. Pure relief rushed over him like a wave as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hauled herself up. He bent at the knees and lifted her to put them face-to-face.

  Dizzy, he asked, “I was?”

  “I talked to him. I told him everything. Everything,” she repeated.

  “About—”

  “How…” Her smile faltered, but for being smaller, it somehow got brighter. More real. “How I was sorry he’d never gotten to have the son he always wanted. Told him I knew I was a disappointment to him,” and didn’t that just gut Adam, that she could say that so blithely? “But that I was fine with it. I was done trying to please him or even care about what he thinks.”

  Adam didn’t know what to say, so he clutched her closer and held on.

  Something in her eyes went soft. “And he apologized.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “I know, right?” Stray drops of moisture beaded in her eyes but didn’t fall. Her lips curved up so hard it was like her face was about to crack. “Adam. He said he was proud of me.”

  His own mouth drew into a grin. “I knew he would. Fucking hell, Jo, I’m so happy for you.”

  She let go with one hand to brush the inside of her wrist across her eyes. “And we, like, talked. Nothing’s really fixed, you know, but it was just… good. Really good.”

  “What did I tell you?”

  “You were right,” she said. “About everything.”

  With that, she latched back on and used her leverage to pull herself closer. She kissed him full on the mouth, a hard clack of teeth and the bite of her lip ring, and it was the best, most awful kiss he’d ever had.

  She buried her face against his shoulder and squeezed him tight. “Thank you.”

  He held her against him, reeling. It struck him like a blow—a vague, shapeless hint of a hope that somehow, maybe, despite all the obstacles, despite the way that time was running out on them… maybe…

  Everything might work out all right.

 

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