Page 28 of Vows in Sin
R eign
I looked everywhere for her last night, realizing too late if Tabitha didn’t want to be found, she wouldn’t be. After a fitful sleep, daring myself to make it through the night without going to Seraphina, dawn came.
A pair of ripped jeans and two cups of strong coffee later, and I’m standing by a tent pole, watching Tabitha work while she pretends I’m not here.
Budgie lies on a temporary medical bed, covered in a white sheet, his legs far too long, hanging off the end. He’s got a cut over his eye. Tabitha’s dabbing the area with something pungent.
I move closer till I’m standing over her. A massive shadow that’s going to haunt her until we fix things between us. I won’t let this drag on longer than it needs to. “Baby, we need to talk.”
She won’t look up at me. “Dad, I’m sorry. I can’t talk right now.”
“I’ll wait.” I’m not going anywhere.
She shoots me a killer glance. “Have it your way.”
One trait we share—stubborn as shite.
I sink onto an overturned crate beside Budgie. “How you doin’, man?”
“Good.” He reaches over slowly and carefully, giving me a bump.
“Don’t move once I start sewing, Parrot Man. Or you’re going to end up a pirate with one eye and a patch.”
Budgie and I share a grin.
Tabitha gets down to business, making neat rows of stitches over Budgie’s eyebrow with her gloved hands. She works in a stony silence, her gentle, precise motions a vast contrast to the stony set of her jaw. I sit watching her. Budgie is watching both of us.
Tabitha puts the needle away, reaching for a small tube that looks like superglue.
Budgie’s wide eyes look from me to her. Then back to me. “I can go, Boss. We can do this later.” He goes to sit up.
“Do not move.” She pushes down his big shoulder with one hand. “I’m the boss under this tent. And I’m not done with you.”
I can’t help the pride that comes up, watching my beautiful girl handle a 300-pound man as easily as she’s closing a book. “You’d best do what she says, man.”
“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it, Boss?”
“She’s the tree. I’m lucky enough to be her roots.”
“Damn,” Budgie shakes his head. “That’s some poetry.”
That earns me a hefty sigh from my daughter. “Seriously. We can talk when I finish my shift.”
Unsure of how far the Morrettis reach, no one wants to leave the estate or trust anyone to come in, making Tabitha and the others in the family with medical training our doctors. The tent is packed.
“Shift?” I glance around. “You came in last night at what? Two in the morning.”
Her hands drop to her lap, pausing her work only long enough to lock eyes with me for a beat. “Yeah. I did. Didn’t I? Took a break for dinner, then went right back to work. And when I finished, I came to your room. To let you know I was back. So you wouldn’t worry.”
Prickly, uncomfortable heat creeps up my neck. I’ve set my own trap and clamped my damn foot in my mouth. I run a hand over my beard.
Her voice shifts to Budgie, asking him, “And guess what I found when I got there, Pirate?”
Budgie shifts in the cot. “Your best friend?”
Her brows fly sky high, her mouth gaping. “You too? My god, is there anyone who doesn’t know about this!”
Budgie clicks his tongue against his teeth. “It’s the Bachman way. Gossip travels faster than the jet that got us here.”
“But how?” Tabitha asks Budgie. “I haven’t told anyone. I came straight to the tent to sleep.”
“Well,” he cringes. “A few medics were crashing in the tent last night.”
“Spit it out,” Tabby demands. “And?’
“You talk in your sleep.” Budgie winces, the bearer of bad news.
She stands so fast that she upsets her stool, knocking it over. She snaps off her gloves one at a time, tossing them in the trash. She storms away from the bed. “Unbelievable!”
I toss Budgie a look. “Fuel to the fire?” I get up to follow Tabby.
“What? She asked.” He says with a shrug. “I tell it like it is.” He calls after us. “Hey, am I done?”
She’s out from under the tent, standing on the edge of the woods. The light babble of a creek breaks the silence. I stand, facing her, giving her space to speak.
Her arms are crossed over her chest. She stares out over the forest, avoiding my eye. Finally, she speaks. “I’m not an idiot. I knew right when you came off that plane and shook hands, something was up between you two.”
I think back to that day. The curious look she gave us, asking us if we’d met before. “You said as much.”
We both denied it. Denied her. Lied to her.
She turns to me. “I gave you both a chance to tell me.” She gives a pained laugh. “Then you both miss dinner? Come on.” She rolls her eyes, muttering, “Tell Seraphina she might want to take that dress to get it drycleaned by the way.”
“I should have told you. I wanted to tell you. We wanted to. We were waiting for the right time.”
“The right time was when we stepped off that plane and the two of you shook hands! You made me look stupid. Everyone here knew exactly what was going on. But because you hadn’t told me, I respected your boundary. I pretended I didn’t know. I waited. Like a loyal person would.”
She throws the word at me. It strikes like a grenade.
“I’m sorry.”
“And neither of you. Said anything.”
“I should have told you.”
She eyes me. “How long has this been going on?”
“We only made the connection when I came here.”
“How long?” she asks again.
“Does it matter?” I reach a hand out for her. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“I’m hurt because you didn’t tell me.” She pulls away. “But yeah, it’s gross and weird. And ugh—could you have chosen, literally, anyone else?”
It didn’t feel like a choice. More like a gravitational pull. I don’t share that. “I let you down. I should have told you right away.”
She gave us a chance. To come clean. To make things right. I’m so ashamed I can’t look at her. I glance down at my rejected hand, tracing the letters of her name.
I should have come clean earlier. I didn’t for Seraphina’s sake.
The first of many decisions I would have to make, where I would have to choose between the two of them if I stay with Seraphina.
And that’s the crux of the issue. The heart of the beast.
I won’t move on. Hell, if I were going to move on from Jane, I would have by now. It wasn’t a matter of someone coming along to shake me out of my cage.
It was a matter of fate. Of her. Seraphina.
I’ll be back to my old life. My leather chair. My microwaved dinner. My footie matches. But I’ll still have Tabby on the other end of the phone, calling the plays, yelling at the refs.
Life has always been clear about one thing.
You can’t have it all.
Seraphina is young, beautiful, and strong.
She will move on.