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“I like him,” Dad said, patting Rose’s knee. They were sitting together on the couch.
“Yeah?” She didn’t know why there was so much surprise in her voice. She’d expected that he and Cal would get along.
“I’m not so sure about his parents,” Dad continued, and Rose managed a weak laugh. “But I can get along with them for the wedding.”
“Dad!”
“Ah, sorry. I shouldn’t make jokes about that yet. I’m just glad you’re happy with him.”
Rose glanced toward the kitchen. In the aftermath of what had happened, Cal had volunteered to cook dinner instead of Rose, so she’d save the fish for tomorrow.
“It’s not like I can depend on another person for my happiness,” she said to her father.
“No, but he makes everything a little better, doesn’t he? I can see how you look at him.”
“Except he forgot about his parents visiting. Which is okay, it happens, but why couldn’t I have managed better? And then Ray showed up.”
“You’re doing fine.” He rubbed her back. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “You know it’s not that simple.”
He kept rubbing her back in a soothing motion. He’d always been affectionate with his children, something that had surprised Sierra when Rose had told her.
“I wish Mom could have met him,” she said suddenly.
“I know. She would have liked him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, because he’s good to you. She would have understood that, even if she didn’t understand other things. I’m sorry, Rose.”
I’m sorry she couldn’t accept that she was sick, and so were you. I’m sorry I didn’t do more to get you help when you were young.
He didn’t say those words, but Rose knew what he meant. They’d had enough conversations about it before.
That night, she decided to try sleeping in Cal’s bed, but if she couldn’t fall asleep, she’d go back to her bed in an hour, and she reminded herself that this was okay.
Her mind was much less serene about other things, however.
“Again, I’m so sorry about my parents,” Cal said.
“Ugh, what must they think of me?” Rose burrowed against him. “A guy I used to date showed up drunk, and I basically had a meltdown.”
“And you defended me. I’m not used to people defending me to my parents.”
“I hope I didn’t make things complicated.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m not that close to them. You were perfect.”
“Ha. I’m hardly perfect.”
“To me you are.”
For a split second, she thought she might cry.
* * *
The rest of her father’s visit went better.
On Saturday morning, Rose woke up in her own bed, cuddling Fred to her chest, and when she went downstairs, her father and Cal were drinking coffee and talking about gardening. She’d told Cal that he didn’t need to entertain her father like this, but Cal didn’t seem to mind, and truth be told, she was glad to see the two most important men in her life getting along.
They all went out for dim sum together, and afterward, Cal headed home while Rose and her father walked around the city and had tea. For dinner, she made the steamed fish that she’d intended to make on Friday.
All in all, it went quite well, and it made her love Cal even more. True, her father was a reasonably easy man to like, but still. She felt as if she must be dreaming, and Cal would turn out to be a serial killer or alien in disguise. Yes, those seemed far-fetched, but they seemed more likely than suddenly finding herself in a solid relationship after all this time.
When her father left on Sunday afternoon, Rose was about to do some cleaning when she got a text from Amy. Amy had a headache and wondered if Rose could look after Hudson for a couple of hours until Victor got home. Happy to spend some time with a cute baby, Rose agreed, and Cal volunteered to go with her.
“I mean, if Amy wouldn’t mind,” he said.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t.”
Amy really didn’t seem well when she opened the door. She was normally perky, but today she looked exhausted and bedraggled, and Rose’s chest squeezed with worry.
“The headache is pretty bad, and the painkillers don’t seem to be working.” Amy passed the baby to Rose. “I just fed him. I’m going upstairs to take a nap.”
Rose and Cal sat on the couch in the front room. Hudson regarded Cal curiously and reached for his beard.
“Hey, little guy,” Cal said. “What’s your name?”
“Bababa,” Hudson said.
“Okay, I’ll call you Bababa.”
Hudson giggled. Since they were getting along, Rose handed Hudson to Cal.
Cal stood the baby up on his feet. “Aren’t you a handsome little Bababa?”
In response, Hudson tried to smush Cal’s nose with his tiny hand.
If Rose and Cal had a baby, perhaps they’d look like Hudson—one white parent, one East Asian parent. But she couldn’t give that to him. It was possible he didn’t want kids, but when she looked at him playing with Hudson, she couldn’t believe that. She thought of him with his teenage niece, too. He’d be a good parent—he would be way more understanding than his own father.
What if...?
No. She’d known for years that having small children wasn’t a possibility for her. It wasn’t safe. Why, just look at Amy, who was way more equipped to handle a baby and looked like a mess today.
“Ga,” Hudson said.
“Ga,” Cal repeated.
“Ah.”
“Ah.”
Rose figured this would amuse both of them for a while.
But Cal’s attention wasn’t all on Hudson, because a minute later, he said to Rose, “Are you okay, hun?”
No, she wasn’t. She was a ball of anxiety. All of her concerns about their relationship were hitting her at once. Consuming her.
She couldn’t keep doing this. Everyone had issues, but he deserved someone who didn’t have quite as many issues as she did. He was better off without her.
When he touched her leg, she stiffened.
“Rose?” he said as he returned his hand to Hudson, who was attempting to blow raspberries. It was adorable, and it made her heart hurt.
She couldn’t imagine Cal saw their future the same way as she did. Yes, she didn’t know exactly what he wanted, but she doubted it was the same thing. And although he was easygoing, he’d eventually get frustrated with her.
“What is his name?” Cal asked.
“Hudson.”
“Hudson, why don’t you go cheer up Rose?” Cal handed over the baby.
Oh, God.
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
“Mamamama,” Hudson said.
He was just babbling. It didn’t mean anything. But it was getting harder and harder for Rose to maintain her composure.
She hugged him close and squeezed her eyes shut to stem the tears. And when he slapped a sticky hand against her cheek and nearly poked out her eye, she just wanted to cry harder—and not because it physically hurt.
She couldn’t look at Cal. Couldn’t bear to see his expression of concern. Couldn’t bear to think about how she had to put an end to this as soon as possible, before it could break her heart even more.
Thankfully, Victor arrived home earlier than expected. Rose didn’t try to make conversation with him—Victor probably wouldn’t care for small talk anyway—and headed next door as quickly as possible, Cal following.
“Babe, talk to me,” he said. “What’s up? I can tell something’s wrong.”
She took her time removing her shoes in the entryway, stalling.
It was the right thing to do for both of them. She knew that. But they lived together and this was going to be such a mess and the past few weeks had been so amazing and she was going to miss him so much and...
“I think we should break up,” she said.