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15
The kids were loungingin the living room area of my villa while I washed dishes. I’d ordered pizza, which the kids consumed while watching some funny kids movie. Their little laughter and joking melted the stone inside my chest, the one that had stopped working as soon as Bexley left me all those years ago, the one I’d sworn would never be vulnerable again.
I glanced at the microwave to see the time and hated the disappointment that rose inside my chest. I had kept thinking Bexley would get a chance to come and hang with her kids while they swam, or while they hung around outside. We’d stayed for almost an hour, Cole relaxing in the shade with his ice cream and tablet and Bella swimming with me in the pool. I hated how often I’d check the door to see if it was Bex coming out to see us, but she never came. When we went to leave, she wasn’t around either, which meant Bella had to ride back in her swimsuit because I wasn’t letting her go into the women’s locker room by herself.
I hadn’t even asked what time she got off work, but it was nearing eight at night and there was still no sign of her. I knew this was all still new, still confusing…but it also felt right. Like these kids were supposed to be here in my rented vacation house, watching HitFlix and making jokes about the different ones I had acted in. They acted out the superhero one I was in, pretending to be me so many times that I started tackling them like I was Godzilla.
God, my stomach hadn’t ever felt so sore from laughing, nor had my face hurt this much from smiling. I wanted to share all of it with Bexley, because she still mattered to me, but also because she seemed so sad and stressed out. I hated that she was working at this resort. I hated that she had to deal with people like me…like Henna, all day.
Headlights shone through the front window, catching my attention. My palms started sweating as I waited for that small knock on the front door. Internally, I wanted to slap myself for being so eager for this woman who had so easily walked away from me. Our conversation ran back through my head on a small loop, reminding me that there were parts of why she’d left that were on me.
My reaction to her telling me she was pregnant wasn’t my favorite memory. I had been terrified and angry, hurt that my plans were in danger, confused that my girlfriend who knew more than anyone how important football was to me would sabotage me in that way. I’d just needed time to process it.
A low ache formed in my chest as I remembered how justified I had felt in taking that space…how, for ten years, I’d reveled in that knowledge. It was the bedrock for my entire outlook on women, relationships…all of it, the very reason I was now essentially a robot who didn’t care about acting in roles where I had to get hot and steamy with my costars. Hollywood loved the roles I was willing to take on, roles others weren’t interested in…because I just didn’t care.
But now…
A knock sounded on the front door, shaking me from my thoughts.
Striding toward the entrance, I unlocked the deadbolt to let Bex in. Swinging the door open, I expected a bright and happy person to be standing there. I was an idiot for assuming that after an entire day of work, she’d be happy. But Bexley used to always be happy.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, watching as she heaved a sigh and pushed past me. Locking everything back up, I turned around to see what had put that sour expression on her face. That white-gold hair was muted and frizzy, her face red and blotchy.
“Hey kids, wanna pack up your stuff? Let’s get going…I’m exhausted.” Her voice teemed with weariness, tipping at the edges with subdued emotion.
“Hang on a sec.” I stepped closer to her, gently grabbing her shoulder. “Come in and eat, get off your feet.”
Her blue eyes bounced from the kitchen back down to her feet. “It’s okay, I need to get home. Thank you for taking care of them.”
My stomach pitched with anxiety that she was going to leave. I didn’t want her to leave, didn’t want this night to end. I didn’t want any of them to go, and that terrified me.
Not enough, though, to succumb to old self-sabotaging behavior like trying for something again with her.
“Just stay a sec, let me feed you.” I grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the couch. “Take a seat, let the kids fill you in about their day.”
She did as I said, like an exhausted puppet being led around by tangled and too-tight strings. Once she was seated and had dropped her purse, I spun on my heel and headed toward the kitchen. I prepared her pizza, warmed it, and set her up with a hearty portion of Caesar salad. I remembered she used to love pizza as long as there was salad to go with it.
Mincing over to the living room, I handed the plate to Bex, who’d already brightened up a bit just by talking to her kids. Bella had curled into Bexley’s left side, while Cole stayed put with his injured leg elevated on the adjacent couch.
“Thank you, Ryan.” Bexley pinned those eyes on me, pairing the look with a tight smile. She was being polite, but she was irritated that she was here. I still remembered those looks, and no amount of time could go by where I didn’t respond to them.
“Can I get you a drink?” I planted my hands on my hips, insecure about where to stand or what to do. I had on a pair of gray sweats and a simple white t-shirt; I liked to be comfortable when I was at home, but now, in front of Bexley, I felt underdressed.
“No, that’s okay.” Bex gave that constricted smile again, making me want to punch something. Why was she so tense? Was she pissed about my reaction the other night?
“Bex, relax. Take a second and just kick back,” I encouraged, moving to sit on the coffee table in front of her. I needed to show her I was more than just that guy I used to be, the one who ran when I didn’t like something or got freaked out when things got scary.
Bexley kept her head down, carefully chewing on her pizza. The girl I’d once known would have challenged me on how fast she could swallow down a piece, always competing with me and laughing her ass off when she’d win. She would light up the room with how happy and carefree she was. The only time that ever changed was a few weeks prior to her telling me she was pregnant. Now everything had changed. She wasn’t the same person she once was.
“I’m fine.”
Fuck this was annoying.
Rubbing at my forehead, I finally gave in and did something she was likely going to hate.
Her hands full and her eyes on the television, I bent down from my place on the coffee table and grabbed her feet. She’d already shed her shoes at the door, her feet left covered by little white ankle socks.
“Heeeeey!” she shrieked around a mouthful of pizza.
