She glanced my way with narrowed eyes, biting her lips, clearly wondering if I could be trusted with this information. Several minutes passed. There was an awareness deep down that I needed to shut up and give her this time. The pain swirling in her eyes was something I recognised too well. I wanted her to trust me with her secrets. I needed her to let me in, like I’d never needed anything before.
Keeping my eyes forward, I concentrated on running. We’d reached the Brisbane River. I led the way across the road to the path curving its way along the brown, murky, rush of water. A dog’s bark followed our trail from its front yard.
“My mother left my father when I was three, because she couldn’t handle who he was. I don’t remember much happiness as a young girl, apart from visiting my granny. My father used to play with me, but when my mother left him, he became a shell of a man. He moved back into his mother’s house—Granny’s. When it was his turn to have me, I spent the time with Granny while he sat out in the back garden, staring off into space. His head was obviously a very dark place. He lost his shit and committed suicide a year later. A little while later, Mum left me because … I reminded her of him.”
Holy fuck! Her story was sadder than I was prepared for. Nobody should have to suffer through an experience like that. Especially at such a young age. Now, I was even more eager to meet her grandmother. She had raised an incredible woman. After suffering so much heartache, they’ve come through together.
Veronica drew in a deep breath and pushed it out in a rush. “I’m never going to be like my father. I’ll never put myself in that position. I think it’s unrealistic to expect that you’ll find a person who will accept you for all that you are, including the ugly parts, and love you anyway.”
My eyebrows rose. “That’s a really bleak outlook on love. I know for a fact it’s possible to find that one person who will love you, warts and all. My parents were a prime example.”
“Were?” She turned her body, skipping sideways.
“Yeah, were. They died in a light aircraft accident when I was nineteen. Tish was only fourteen at the time. They were our world. They cherished us, but they lived for each other. I think that’s the way it should be, because they’re the reason we’re here. In a way, it’s a good thing that they were together when they died. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.”
“Shit. I’m sorry, that’s awful. My parents chose to leave me, but yours were ripped away suddenly. Life’s unfair and cruel.”
“Six months ago, I would have said the same thing. Now, I think it’s not all bad.” Looking at her, I had a feeling that things might turn out okay. If only she could learn to trust me. Open up to the possibility that someone could love her for all she was … and that someone was me.
We headed down another street that would take us back to the house.
Barking dogs verbalized their alarm like a Mexican wave following us as we passed. The daylight encroached on the horizon, flicking the streetlights off for the day.
“You realise you’ve been talking?” She grunted at me, making me laugh. “So, what does your granny like to eat?”
“She’s on a vegan, gluten-free, diabetic diet.”
My feet faltered. “Wha?”
Her smile was huge, sweeping away all the sad reminders with a lift of her beautiful lips. “You should see your face.”
“Please tell me you were joking.”
“Absolutely,” she sang.
I shoved her on the arm, making her stumble to the side. Her foot caught in a divot, her leg crumbling beneath her. I grabbed her arm in time before she hit the grass. Her groan of pain was an effective punishment.
“Shit! Sorry. Are you okay?”
“Nope. Not even a little bit.” She flopped herself down and clutched her ankle.
“Ah, damn. You twisted your ankle.”
I looked around, gauging where we were; nearly at the corner. It was only about three hundred metres to home. My eyes dropped to the top of her head. Her gorgeous curls were caught in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She had suffered so much. I just wanted to care for her. Show her that her mother’s choices weren’t because she wasn’t worthy of love. Her mother was the problem.
I made the decision to carry her.
Ronnie
I shrieked as he bent down and scooped me up, one hand behind my back and one under my thighs, the cast sticking out beyond my legs. Secured in his arms, I forgot the sleepless night of tossing and turning. I forgot the danger that lurked on the periphery. I forgot my reluctance to introduce Brad to Granny tonight, and that I was trying to distance myself from him. I wanted to burrow in deeper.
“Wrap your arms around my neck.” His grey eyes burned with familiar intensity.
I followed his command. Thankful that I had the permission and the excuse to do so. “You know, this is the second time you’ve injured me while we’ve been running.” His sheepish smile was adorable. “I don’t think it’s safe to go running with you again.”
“Bull dust,” he balked.
I gave him a single nod. “All the evidence is against you.”
“Have I not picked you up and offered assistance every time?”
“Mm. There is that.”
“Am I not strong enough and chivalrous enough to see to your needs?”
“I s’pose.” I chewed on my cheek at the mention of his strength, and him seeing to my needs. I was six-foot-tall. I could feel the muscles in his shoulders straining, but
