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So I watched her, made sure that she wasn't meeting with anyone on her husband's behalf. Even though I knew from that first day I followed her that the only crooked thing she had going was her smile.
She walked along through the park, pushing her two-year-old son Axel in the stroller and trying to will him to stay asleep. She did it more and more lately, as if the baby just never slept. Never gave her a moment's peace. Judging from the look on her face and the way she snuggled with him on the couch all night, I suspected it might be true.
The stroller veered to the side suddenly, something shifting, so it tilted to the side. She tried to put it right, but it woke Axel anyway. She groaned, dropping her head for a moment before she bent down to inspect the wheel. I couldn't see from my place what had happened, but the way Calla buried her face in her hands and took out her phone was enough of a sign. She typed a number in, putting it to her ear as she reached down and grabbed her son from the stroller.
She bounced him rhythmically while she spoke to whoever she'd called for help; her face looking more and more harried with every second. When she finally hung up, she turned a smile to her son and shushed him before she spoke to him.
With every second that she waited, her body slumped more and more. The weight of her two-year-old was exhausting her, and I could practically see the way her back pained her when she tried to straighten out.
At 5'3", she was far too small to be holding Axel for long periods of time like that. But she did it anyway, never even trying to set him down as he snuggled into her side desperately.
With a muttered, "fuck," I knew I couldn't watch her suffer. Knew in that moment I'd do anything to make her life just a little easier. It would end badly, there was no way getting up in her face and talking to her would end well for me.
But I did it anyway.
I stepped out of my shadows, making myself visible as I walked along the path more noticeably. "Excuse me," I said, and even to me my voice sounded rough. I didn't talk much, avoided it when I could, but particularly when I was on a hunt or doing surveillance, I could go days without ever speaking a word.
I tried not to wince, tried to give her the friendliest smile I could manage. But I wasn't friendly. I didn't know how to be. I'd lost everything that had made me human a long time ago.
I cleared my throat. "Do you need some help?"
She spun around, fixating that deep blue gaze on me so suddenly it was like a punch to the gut. My world spun, narrowing down on the flush that spread over her pretty cheeks and the way her pursed little mouth tipped into a blinding, ever-so-slightly crooked smile.
"You don't mind?" she asked, but her body sagged with relief.
"Let me take a look," I agreed, going to the stroller and squatting down. I could feel her eyes on me, feel the way she watched me. I didn't imagine Calla saw many men like me in her sheltered life.
It should stay that way.
"Thank you so much for this," she sighed. "My husband is on his way, but it can be hard for him to get away from work," she explained. I resisted the urge to laugh at her attempt to let me know she was married. Under normal circumstances, it would have been smart. Dissuading interest early on could benefit her, but she should have known that a man like me could take whatever he wanted. Married or not.
"It's no problem. Your boy looks like he's having a rough go of it," I grunted, finding the part where the tire had come off the rim.
"He's teething," she responded. "These teeth will be the death of me. He's usually an easy boy, but something about these has him miserable." She wiggled her nose on his, making him squeal with laughter even as he clung to her. "Don't they, cookie monster?" she asked him.
I snapped the tire back onto the rim, feeling grateful that it had been something so simple. The sound of her laughing in response to her boy's joy, that was something I couldn't handle. Not if I wanted to have any chance of leaving her alone.
I straightened, and the position put me closer to her than I wanted to be. Axel reached out his arms, straining toward me while Calla tried to contain him. "I'm so sorry," she laughed. "He isn't usually so friendly."
A boy after my own heart.
I held out my hands, lifting him under the armpits and out of Calla's arms. She looked panicked for a brief second, but then relief crossed her face as the weight left her back. I stared at the little boy in my arms, dark hair he'd inherited from his father but his mother's blue eyes shone back in his face. His little hand reached up, touching the scar through my eyebrow in confusion before he laughed and punched my nose.
"Axel!" Calla scolded.
"He's alright," I said, hearing a smile in my voice for the first time in as long as I could remember.
A beautiful woman in front of me, a boy who somehow looked a lot like me in my arms. It was everything I'd wanted once upon a time, before it had all been taken from me.
When Axel lost interest in using me as a punching bag, Calla took him back and settled him into the seat of the stroller.
Once she’d gotten him buckled, she turned her attention back to me, smiling happily. "Thank you again. So much. Can I give you some money or-"
"You've already given me more than you know," I whispered, reaching out a hand to her face. "Have a good life, tesoro."
My hand cupped her cheek as she stared up at me in confusion. I knew I could never speak to her again, never touch her, but I knew I'd never be able to walk away from her.
The moment my thumb touched her high cheekbones, something in me shifted.
