Chapter Sixteen

Willow

I manage to smile through the rest of dinner, but inside, turmoil is roiling in the pit of my stomach.

I say my goodbyes and then drive back to Norman. I'm listening to Taylor's newest album, and let me just say, the darker tone of this one really resonates with me right now. I'm not a poet, but I sure am tortured.

I have the car's air conditioning on full blast as I leave the highway. I'm getting off a bit farther north than my usual exit. Instead of going east, to my side of town, I head west to the newer, ritzier part.

I go into a neighborhood where the lots are huge and the houses are at least two stories, but a couple have a third tacked on with a bonus room. Shawn's house is toward the back, at the end of a cul-de-sac. It doesn't look like anyone's home, but of course, there's no real way for me to tell just by looking at it.

What would I do even if he was home? Do I expect him to run out and pick me up, twirling me around as cheesy music plays like some romcom?

I pull into the drive, kill the engine, and go to the front door.

Gosh, what am I doing? I don't even know what I'm going to say. I didn't rehearse anything.

He doesn't answer the door anyway. I get back in my car, but I still don't go home. Instead, I drive around aimlessly, halfheartedly singing along to Tay Tay.

I find a Sonic Drive-In and get a slush. Back on the road, I go by Shawn's house once again, but nothing has changed.

So, I finally go to my apartment.

I'm nearly in tears by the time I get there. I've found the perfect Daddy—the man of my dreams—but in a cruel twist of fate, I can't have him!

Am I being dramatic?

No. I love him. This isn't just a crush. I freaking love him.

I stop as I approach my porch. I squint, as if what I see is some sort of vision—a figment of my love-sick imagination.

But it's real. He's actually here.

Shawn is standing at my doorway.

"Let's pack your bag, baby girl," he says. "You're coming home with Daddy.

"For good."