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Progress.
Shaun tips his head back to look at his mom and then back to me.
"I wanted to give you this." I hold up the pink box.
Shaun pushes the screen door open and steps onto the porch.
"Shaun!" Scar scolds him, but he ignores her and grabs the present.
"Pink is Mom's favorite color," he says.
I nod. "Yeah, I know, buddy."
He smiles, takes the gift, and looks back at his mom. "It's for you, Mom." He holds the gift out to her, and when she accepts, his whole face lights up. Scar's eyes soften at his expression. She caresses his face and taps his nose. The smile I've been craving for years appears when she looks up at me.
"Thank you," she says quietly and looks to Shaun. "Buddy, why don't you start getting ready?"
"We're going to get ice cream?" he asks with a shit-eating grin.
"Yeah, baby, we are."
He turns to face me. "Do you want to come with us?"
"Oh, he can't, monster," Scar answers for me.
Disappointment hits me as if a sudden punch landed on my chest.
"Sorry, buddy. Maybe next time." I look up into Scar’s hazel eyes, pleading with her to give me a second chance, but she keeps her focus on her son.
Shaun's shoulders slump, and he walks back inside, mumblingokay. Scar watches him and then turns back to me. "You didn’t have to do this. Besides, it's going to confuse him."
I rear back at her words. "What do you mean, confuse him?"
I get a whiff of her sweet peaches smell when she steps onto the porch. Her pink cotton candy hair reminds me of a summertime sweet treat. My eyes scan over her body and notice the old shirt she's wearing.
My chest swells with pride.
She's wearing one of my favorite shirts I gave her at the cabin all those years ago. We were riding dirt bikes in the rain, and she was covered in mud from head to toe.
I grin to myself at the memory.
"Maverick, are you listening to me?"
Scar's question pulls me away from the memory. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
She sighs. "My son doesn't know who his biological father is. He craves for the affection of any man who shows an interest in us. He gets his hopes up, wishing for a father figure to fill the void left behind. It's his way of protecting me and finding solace in the presence of a man who appears to genuinely care for us."
Her words drop my heart into my gut.
"You giving me this gift shows him that you care."
"But I do care."
She looks away, and it pisses me off. After all we've been through, she can't possibly think I don't care about her or know how much she means to me.
"Scar, look at me," I demand.
When she ignores me, I tip her chin up with my finger, forcing her eyes on me. "I willalwayscare about you. That willneverchange."
