Sweet Home (Sweet Home 1)

“She was beautiful too, then?” he said as he kissed my exposed shoulder. I blossomed at his words and slouched farther against him.

“My father had no family except my grandma. She also lived with us. When I was six, my father died too.” I picked up a long blade of grass, running it between my fingers. “I remember it like it was yesterday. I came home from school and my grandma was upset and sat in the front room. She told me that my daddy had been taken to heaven.” I shook my head, laughing a humourless laugh. “At the time I thought I was being punished for being a bad child. It soon became clear that he hadn’t died of an illness or because God was punishing me, but that he got up as usual, saw me, his little girl, out of the door for school, got into the bath, and slit his wrists with a razorblade.”

Rome quietly exhaled behind me, his warm breath causing the hairs on the back of my neck to prickle. “Shit, baby. I didn’t think… I’m so sorry.”

The strength of his compassion enabled me to talk about that day for the first time ever—in depth—to anyone.

“I’ve never known how to handle what my father did. I understand that he couldn’t live without my mother, but he had me. I needed him. Why couldn’t he be strong for me? For Grandma? He said in his suicide letter that one day I would understand, but I don’t know how any father could leave his daughter all alone.”

I could feel myself growing increasingly annoyed, bitterness dripping from every memory. Rome remained a strong, silent support.

“The saving grace of this whole f**ked-up situation, I suppose, was that I was always smart. When I was seven, my teacher admitted me for MENSA testing. I got in, learned I had an abnormally high IQ, and that’s how I coped with things—studying and gaining knowledge. I became obsessed with religion and philosophy, trying to find a reason for my daddy’s death, why bad things happen to good people. I never got the answer I was looking for. Then, just when I was getting a handle on my life, Grandma was diagnosed with cancer and for three slow months, I nursed her as she grew weaker by the day, only to eventually die in my arms, the two of us all alone in our small house with no one to turn to.”

I took a deep breath and watched as bird after bird returned to their nests near the creek to settle for the night.

“Then what?” Romeo pushed.

“I was put into care after she passed. Luckily, it was with a nice family close to my home. They weren’t very affectionate and were clearly in it for the money, but it was safe and I suppose that’s all you can ask for. I found life hard to cope with, and I distanced myself from everyone to avoid being hurt any more. I was lonely but just… kept going.

“Again, my studies kept me focused and I knew it was my ticket to get away from that foster home and all the memories that haunted me back in my hometown. I just needed to leave.”

Romeo dropped a soft kiss onto my bare shoulder.

“When I was seventeen, I passed my exams early, got into university a year young, and I was offered an advanced place at Oxford. I got my degree and came here. I’ll move somewhere else for my doctorate.”

Romeo released a sharp breath. “So you run.”

I stiffened and tried to shuffle away, distancing myself from being called out on my life strategy. Romeo just held on to me tighter. “Don’t struggle. Answer the question.”

“You have no idea what my life has been like! You don’t get to judge!”

His voice dropped to a commandingly low octave. “I’m not judgin’ you. But you run from your problems, don’t you?”

“So what? I don’t have a real home, no family. Why not?”

“That may have been true before, but now you have people who care for you, truly care for you. I won’t let you run away from me.”

Tears glossed my vision. Romeo’s words were such a comfort, and I wanted so badly to believe him.

“I won’t let you leave me,” he reiterated sternly.

Something within me broke and I cried, cried for the first time in years, placing my head in my hands. Romeo stroked my hair, refusing to release me from the safety of his arms, because that’s what he was—my safety… my peace.

When all my tears had been shed, he asked, “Why did you run from Oxford to here?”

I sighed in defeat, deciding to just be honest. “Oliver wanted more from me. He stayed on to do his PhD and wanted to take things further. I didn’t—he knew nothing about me. I never told him.

“After we slept together, I knew I couldn’t do it anymore. I thought being intimate with him would help me get closer, that it would bring my walls crashing down. But all I felt was strangling disappointment. I thought I was unable to ever be close to another person again. In the end, I freaked. I ran. Simple. He woke up and I was gone. I haven’t spoken to him since.”

Crickets chirped louder as darkness fell and the wide blanket of stars began to twinkle in the crystal-clear sky. “That was until you. I’m close to you. I let you in. Maybe I’m not as damaged as I thought.”

I heard his loud swallow. “You’re not the only one who feels like splittin’ when times get rough, baby, but from now on, I won’t let you run anywhere if I’m not right there runnin’ beside you.”

I swerved my head towards his lips and he gently brushed his mouth against mine. When we broke away, I cupped his cheeks and asked, “Tell me about you.”

Romeo’s eyes iced over and he shrugged and looked away—there was only silent refusal from his stiff body.

A cold breeze suddenly snapped in the night air and goose pimples swept up my bare arms and legs. Romeo noticed. “We should go.”

I held him tighter. “I don’t want to leave yet. I want to know about you.”

He tilted his head in bewilderment. “I don’t wanna split either. But it’s gettin’ late and you’re gettin’ cold. Come on, baby. Time to call it a night.”

Rome helped me to my feet and took my hand as we strolled back to the truck, no further comment on his past.

Once we were in and coasting down the freeway, I noticed Romeo was deep in thought. I reached over and took his free hand. “You okay? You seem miles away.”

He swallowed as though nervous. I’d never seen him look so out of sorts before.

“Yeah.”

I wasn’t convinced. “You sure? You don’t look it.”