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“I’m calming my nerves. It’s still overwhelming to think about all of that.” She opens her eyes. “But I promise I want a future with you too.”
I smile and let the subject drop. Idaline knows how best to calm her nerves and I don’t want to make things worse for her. We eat in silence before she abruptly stands, pulls me out of my side of the booth, and slides in. I reclaim my seat as she pulls her plate across the table. Idaline leans against my shoulder while she continues to eat.
“Ahda! Nom.” Idaline lifts her head as Sawyer holds out the piece of food I just gave him.
“Oh, you’re special,” I say. “He never shares his food.”
Idaline smiles, pushes his hand toward his mouth, and says, “You eat it.”
Sawyer frowns. “Ahda!” he shouts. He jabbers away, sound angry that she refused.
“I think you better eat it,” I say.
She takes the tiny piece of food from Sawyer and eats it while humming as if it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted. Sawyer’s eyes light up. And that begins a new game of sorts for Sawyer where he and Idaline take turns sharing their food. As dinner winds down, Sawyer gets cranky, ready for bed. He throws down a piece of food and reaches for me with a whine. I remove him from his seat and he snuggles against my chest with his head on my shoulder. The faster we can pay our bill and get out of here, the better.
We make it home, but not before Sawyer falls asleep and not before we’re confronted by Lila once more. She sits outside my apartment door. The moment I spot her, I pull Idaline behind me and call the cops to report her. Unfortunately, Lila spots us before I can quietly back up out of view.
“FC, wait!” She hurries to stand and rushes toward us.
“The police are on their way,” I warn her. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you I don’t want you and that you can’t break the restraining order.”
Her eyes narrow as she stops three feet away. “Did you take your babysitter out with you?”
I don’t answer that. It’s none of her business.
She takes a step closer and reaches out as if she may touch my sleeping son. I twist until my back faces her, so Sawyer is closest to Idaline, and snarl, “Don’t you fucking dare touch him.”
“He’s my son, too.”
“Not since you gave up your rights.”
A siren can just barely be heard and that’s all it takes for Lila’s features to smooth. “Tell your slut she might as well move back to South Carolina because we’re getting back together, FC.” She brushes past us to hurry to the elevator.
She’s gone by the time the cops show up. I don’t know if we should’ve tried to keep her here, or if that would’ve looked bad for me since she was trying to leave. Then again, the only reason she wanted to leave was because the cops were coming. Next time, she won’t get a warning.
I don’t like the fact that Lila pointed out that she recognized Idaline. I don’t like that she’s here again. That she thinks she has any claim to Sawyer. It’s so difficult putting Sawyer in his bed for the night rather than holding him in my arms. It’s difficult especially considering I’m more on edge than before, which means I want to drink or smoke. Both of those aren’t an option for me. Sawyer will never smell the stench of tobacco or nicotine on me, nor will he have an alcoholic for a father.
“Will you stay here with him?” I ask Idaline, who stands in the doorway of his room.
“Where are you going?”
“I need to burn the tension away, so I’m going over to the gym. It’s on the complex, so you can call if you need me and I can be right back within minutes.” I lift my gaze from Sawyer to Idaline. “I need to do something other than sit here.”
“Okay. Do what you need to do. We’ll be here when you get back.”
I walk over and kiss her before
heading to my room to change. There’s almost a touch of resistance wrapped around my limbs. I guess part of me thinks I should stay, lean on Idaline, and be close to Sawyer. But the edginess eats away at my soul and I need to soothe it away. The quickest way to do this is by exercising.
Idaline moved to stand by my door while I was changing and she blocks my exit now that I’m done. Her eyes crinkle in worry. Her lips dip slightly in a frown.
“Will you be okay?” she asks.
“Yes.” If I’m not when I get back, I’ll make sure I am by the morning.
She steps out of the way and off I go. The gym is only two buildings over from mine in the main building where the management office is located. There are various things I do when I come here. The treadmill allows me to run until my legs feel as if they’re on the verge of cramping and losing all feeling until I collapse. The benchpress builds muscles in my arms and allows me to keep keep lifting the weights until I worry the bar will get stuck on top of my chest. There are other machines I use and use until I feel like my muscles will give out.
When I work out, I focus only on the task at hand and nothing else. I don’t try to work through my thoughts or whatever may be worrying me. The entire point is to get away from that, to loosen the tension flowing through my veins, to be too tired afterward to think about my life. I’m not sure how long I spend at the gym, but I’m nearly too tired to walk back to my apartment by the time I decide I should head back.
