Chapter 17 I don’t love you but I want you safe
“I suggest you do so after doing what we discussed and please don’t worsen your father’s headache," Molly pointed out. Roger felt deflated, running his fingers through his hair. Despite everything, he just wanted to see his father, even if they couldn't speak to each other.
"Okay, Mom, but just a quick look. I promise I won't wake him," he said, his eyes fixed on Lexi as he noticed the smile fading from her eyes.
Nervousness filled the air, but Delanie started singing one of her carefully composed songs for Roger, helping him relax.
Every time she sang, it captured his attention, and he knew Delanie could have been a superstar given the chance. However, their mother's past experience with fame was a reason for Delanie to get married before facing the harsh world out there.
"Roger, when did you come back?" Declan asked from the doorway. Roger forced a smile and replied, "Just a little while ago." He was already descending the stairs to embrace his brother, much to Molly’s relief. Declan’s presence was a stitch in time.
“And I hope you are staying this time,” Declan asked hopefully, but Roger shook his head. “I’m sorry, Lan, but a married man can no longer live with his parents.”
“When the hell did you get married?” Declan asked with shock, but Roger was too tired to narrate everything again. Declan had grown, almost as tall as Roger. Their mannerisms were similar, but they differed in appearance.
Still, they both had the same eyes, just like their father’s. “I guess Mom and Lani will tell you everything later. Let me go shower and thanks for that song, Lani.”
She was the only one with the keys to making him smile, and once again, it happened. Lexi watched with dismay as Roger climbed the stairs without another look at her. He must really be upset.
"Aunt Molly, why is Roger like this?" she asked, worried. Molly heaved a frustrated sigh. "I'm still analyzing the situation, but truth be told, Roger will never see you as anything other than a sister."
The truth hurt, but she knew things might turn ugly if they kept encouraging it. After her conversation with Roger at the office, she wondered if he even knew who he loved.
"So why did you lie to him? I thought you were doing it for me?" Lexi pouted, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "Oh, that. Certain things are best left unsaid for now."
Roger couldn't sleep throughout the night, a woman's face etched in his mind. "Where are you, Karen?" he mused.
The emptiness was something he had never felt before, along with his lack of concentration. "Don't get me wrong, Kitten, I don't love you, but I want you safe," he assured himself.
Despite being tired, sleep eluded him like a criminal, sending a painful headache his way. Unable to contain it any longer, he went to knock on his parents' door.
Molly stepped out in her lingerie, tightening the silk rope at the sight of Roger. "What's the problem, darling?"
"I can't sleep, Mom. It hurts." With her, he could be vulnerable in a way he couldn't be with anyone else. "Let me get you some sleeping pills. You need them," she said.
As she closed the door, he opened and gently peeked into the room. Upon seeing her father in bed, he relaxed, but why was he wearing his shoes to sleep?
"Here," Molly returned with the exact dosage he needed. "Doctor Gates said you should rest after taking these."
The mention of the doctor reminded him of Doctor Clifford, and he made a mental note to investigate the fake pregnancy test. "Is he so tired that he didn't remove his shoes?" he asked, his gaze piercing, making Molly uneasy.
It reminded her of the young Roger who used to glare at her so coldly. "I told you he was tired. I would have taken them off for him, but I didn't want to disturb his sleep," Molly explained.
Roger wasn't entirely convinced, but he knew Molly would never harm her husband. Perhaps they were both keeping something from him.
"If you say so. Can I get a glass of water?" Molly felt a headache coming on. It felt like she was being scrutinized, but she smiled and went to get water for him.
Roger took the pills in front of her, and she helped him to his room, watching him sleep before returning to her own room.
"How did it go?" she asked Giovanni as she began to remove his shoes. The man looked exhausted. "Good, but I really need some sleep. I'll fill you in when I wake up."
"Well, you should go shower, and I'll change the sheets."
Rules were rules. No one was allowed to get into bed without showering. Due to Roger's unexpected arrival, Giovanni didn't have time to change or shower before getting into bed.
It was a stroke of luck that Roger hadn’t caught him coming in. A few hours later, Roger woke up earlier than usual, even with the sleeping pills he had taken.
Once again, he was dressed in clothes Delanie had picked out for him from the thrift store. With a sense of purpose, he quietly made his way downstairs without being seen.
The enticing aroma from the kitchen drew him in. "Mom, what are you cooking?"
Despite Molly's rise to fame, there were certain habits she couldn't shake, and one of them was cooking.
"French toast. Would you like some?" Molly asked as she prepared breakfast.
"Yes," Roger replied, taking a seat at the kitchen island. Molly's gracefulness extended even to the kitchen. "Are you going to see her?" she inquired, dropping a piece of toast.
Roger nodded, suddenly feeling nervous. "And if she accepts you, what happens to Karen?" Molly's question made him realize the implications, and he knew he still had to make things right with Karen.
"I need to find her, apologize, and make amends," Roger admitted.
Molly wasn't sure what she was expecting to hear, but that response wasn't it. "Good luck," she offered.
Roger waited for Tonia at the college car park. When he saw her father's car pull in, he watched as Tonia stepped out.
Everything about her was perfect—the way her blonde hair danced in the morning light and her radiant smile could warm even the coldest heart.
Then came her outfit, a designer brand from one of his mother's collections. If Tonia knew the designer, things would have been easier, but then she might love his money and not him.
After her father drove away, Roger stepped out of his cheap, temporary car and cornered her around it. "Tonia, we need to talk."