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“Gotcha.” I tip my chin at him before he sees himself out, then pulling out the top drawer of the desk I lift out the framed photograph of Carly I keep there and place it on the desk. I took down all the pictures from the house ‘cause I couldn’t bear to look at ‘em. This one here is my favorite. It’s a selfie of us together that Carly took with her camera phone, and while I rest back in my chair and take another hit from the bottle, I stare at it and let the hate I feel for my own flesh and blood swell. How can someone be so cruel, take the life away from someone so pure? Carly never wronged Chop, she showed him nothing other than kindness and he crushed the life outta her like she was nothing.
It’s hard to think about loving someone else when I’m so overwhelmed by hate and the need to cause pain. Now that I know what Addison has suffered and who she’s running from, I wanna hurt those bastards too.
“I’m closing up, you ready to leave too?” Rogue pokes her head around the door making me realize how long I’ve been here. The whiskey’s half gone, and the rage inside me seems to have simmered.
“You wanna ride up to the cabins?” she offers.
I shake my head back at her. “I’ll close up.” I keep my eyes focused on the picture of Carly.
“Okay.” She smiles at me sadly before she closes the door. Rogue must get the sense I wanna be alone because she doesn’t argue, and although she tries not to show it, I see the concern on her face as she goes against her instinct and backs down.
The garage is silent now, it’s just me and my thoughts, and nothing in this world scares me like they do.
“It’s horrible bein’ the one left behind,” I speak to the picture in front of me, staring into those wide eyes that were so full of life.
“I wish you were here to tell me what to do.” I place the bottle beside her. “That’s the first thing you’d tell me to do, right?” When I imagine her agreeing, I smile to myself.
“I wanna believe what Squealer said was true, but even tryin’ to be happy without ya seems cruel. All the plans I made for my future had you in ‘em.” I drop my head into my hands and grip my hair, closing my eyes and trying to escape my own head for a little while.
Right now, I feel like I’m being pulled in two directions. I don't want Carly to think I’m moving on and forgetting about her, but letting Addison down for a second time ain’t an option. “I’m sorry if this ain’t what you want for me, Carly.” My eyes fill with tears as I kiss two fingers and press them to my beautiful wife's lips through the glass. Then, dragging my ass up out of the chair, I head back to my cabin.
A sound of giggling comes from inside as I step up onto my porch, and when I open the door and see Addison wrestling Charlie on the couch, a smile I don’t even try to make lifts onto my face. She stops when she notices I’m here, staring at me as if she expects me to be mad.
“I wasn’t sure what time you were gonna be home, I hope you don’t mind. I went ahead and cooked dinner. We saved you some though.” I nod my head at her gratefully, ruffling Charlie’s hair over the back of the couch as I pass him on my way to the kitchen counter. I serve myself up a plate of the lasagna she’s made and while I sit at the table and eat it, I listen to her in the bathroom telling him some story about pirates while she bathes him. It feels strange hearing happiness among these walls again. For so long they’ve been tainted, and it makes everything Squealer said back at the garage make even more sense.
“Come on, straight to bed, it's late.” Addison leads her son out the bathroom, he’s wearing the PJs I picked up for him yesterday.
“Night, Skid.” He looks at me and smiles.
“Good night, kid.” I grin back at him before his mom takes him to their room to settle him down for the night. I’ve finished eating and done the dishes by the time she comes back out and I make a start on putting everything away. I still don’t feel ready to face her or what happened before I raced outta here earlier.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice comes out a little wobbly, and when I turn around and realize that she’s way closer to me than I thought, I feel that tug between us all over again. “I shouldn’t have done what I did, I got caught up in the moment, and I… I don’t want to ruin things between us. I appreciate your help and everything you're doing for me and Charlie, I wanted to say thank you and I misread—”
I cut off her nervous ramble by slamming my lips onto hers, holding her chin with my thumb, and kissing her the way I should have earlier. My tongue explores the inside of her mouth, and not a thing about it feels wrong. A sweet, satisfied noise comes from the back of her throat and when I start to feel guilt clamp its fist around my throat, I fight against it and lift Addison under her thighs onto my kitchen counter. There’s so much tension between us, over five years of it, and when she starts to lift my shirt up over my body, I have to remind myself that this is a marathon, not a sprint.
I stop her by grabbing her wrists and retracting my lips from hers. She looks up at me through her lashes, confused and disappointed. I slowly lift my hand up between us and swipe my thumb over her bottom lip, liking how it looks all plump and red from the friction of mine. I can practically see her heart beating outta her chest, and for the first time in so long, I think I feel mine too. I stare into her pretty, green eyes, silently begging for her to be patient with me and when she smiles, I reach forward and place a soft kiss on her forehead.
“Night, Addy,” I whisper, dragging myself away from her so I can get an early night and start a fresh day tomorrow.
Istay up after Skid takes himself to bed, tracing my fingers over my lips and thinking about that kiss. It seemed spontaneous, and yet it was different to any other we’ve shared. This time there was no look of regret after.
This is not why I came here; I shouldn’t even be venturing into it after what happened last time we got close. And yet all those feelings have come flooding back with full force. I get that same flutter in my tummy the way I used to when he’d walk through the door, or when he touched me. It’s ironic how feelings, you spend so long trying to forget, can come back so fast. I read the look in his eyes, whatever he’s going through in having us here is hard for him and whatever it is that me and Skid have between us can’t be my focus now, not while me and Charlie are in danger. Yet as I sit here alone in the silence, I can’t help thinking about how it could be.
“You look ready to pop.” Skid laughs at me when he kicks shut the door and starts placing the Chinese food on the coffee table.
“I feel ready to pop.” I struggle to sit forward from where I’m slouched back on the couch. My stomach’s gotten so big now, that even Skid’s tee feels tight around it.
Skid saves me the effort and passes me the chicken chow mien before taking his own food and sitting beside me.
“What’s up?” He stops eating when he notices me poking around mine with my chopsticks.
“Nothing.” I shrug my shoulders.
“C’mon, it’s been five minutes and you ain’t touched that food. Usually you—”
“I’m scared,” I blurt the words I’ve been avoiding right out, trying not to cry with them. These past few days I’ve been so tearful, and allowing all the thoughts in my head to run loose has not been helping.
“Scared of what?” Skid places his food on the table and frowns at me.
