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After waiting for an excruciating twenty minutes, I slip on my shoes and walk until my feet land in front of Scar's front door. I pace on the front porch anxiously, hoping I don't fall out of my skin.
Jesus. The last time I was this nervous was when I was seven and sitting in the dentist's chair.
"Are you going to stand there all day, or…"
I pause at the sound of Scar's voice.
"Hey," I breathe out, tugging the brim of my cap over my eyes. My breath catches when I notice her glassy, red-rimmed eyes. She must be having some type of allergic reaction or has been crying her eyes out. Given that her father left a few moments ago, I would say it's the latter.
"What’s going on, Ricky? Is everything okay?"
Yes. Just wanting to be near you.
I tried to watch her life unfold through Facebook and Instagram, but she closed her accounts shortly after Seth died. My only window of seeing into her life was ripped away from me. There wasn't a day that she never crossed my mind. She was embedded deep into my soul—so deep you would have to bleed me out to remove the intense emotions I've been fighting for the longest time. I rub my knuckles against my chest, hoping it will somehow extinguish the burning sensation.
Even after the years passed, the need to be near her never went away.
"Mom?" Shaun’s voice startles Scar.
"Oh, hey, monster." She ruffles his curly hair lovingly.
He looks at me and then back to his mom with a concerned expression. "Are you okay?" he asks cautiously, reaching for her hand. Scar meets my gaze.
What happened to you, Tinkerbelle?
"Yeah, baby." She kneels until she's at his eye level. "Why don’t you finish your painting for Grandpa. Then, we'll make homemade pizza for dinner."
Shaun's face lights up with excitement. "Are you going to eat with us?" he asks, turning to me with a hopeful smile.
I smile back at him, feeling a warmth in my heart. "Ah...yeah, I hope so. If it's okay with your mom." I look up to see Scar's eyes are filled with warmth and affection.
He smiles between me and his mom as his blue eyes shine with joy, and he throws his arms around her neck. My heart cracks when he mumbles, 'I love you,' and runs back inside.
Scar climbs to her feet but keeps her gaze on her son. When she finally turns to me, there's something in her eyes that screamsdon't go. I’ve known that look since she was a little girl. That face makes me stop breathing, and my chest grew uncomfortably tight.
"Scar, wh—"
Before I can finish, she runs into my arms, and a sob rips from her chest. I grab the back of her thighs and lift. With her legs wrapped around me, I lead us into the house and shut the door behind me with my foot.
"Tink, what's wrong?" I say quietly against her hair. She doesn't speak but whimpers as I carry her to the couch and sit us down. She melts into me, so I hold her tighter, taking in her fruity scent.
We sit for what seems like hours.
Scar stirs in my arms. "Shh, it's okay." I rub her back in assurance.
She pushes against my chest to pull herself up but keeps her head down.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" she murmurs as she scrambles off me, but I'm not having that. I spin her around until she faces me with her knees on each side.
A pained groan slides up my throat when she adjusts her ass on my lap. I grip her hips to keep her from moving. When she lifts her eyes to me, I almost want to cry.
Tinkerbelle has this natural beauty that trumps all the girls wearing layers of makeup and doing their hair for hours.
Without thinking, I trace my fingers down the side of her face, loving how soft her skin is.
"What happened?" I ask. Her eyes begin to water.
