by Ella Fields
I smiled, pleased but also kind of sad I wouldn’t get to see as much of Glenda. I was sure she was anything but sad, though, and that made me smile some more.
It was New Year’s Eve, and it’d only been three days since Lars had shown up at my house. Three days of stealing kisses, of sneaking into the spare room to fuck, and wondering and yearning for the next time we could lay naked together, our hearts and bodies sated, but only for mere minutes. At least, maybe here, we could do more of that.
The hall was quiet, and we passed five cream doors that stood opposite one another before we reached a lone door at the very end.
“20B,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”
Lars huffed, sticking the key into the lock and then pushing the heavy barrier open.
With a jerk of his head, he gestured for me to walk in ahead.
The carpet was a muted gray, plush beneath my flat boots. There were two bedrooms, what looked to be a study nook near the balcony doors, one bathroom, and an open plan living and dining area.
“Wow.” I threw my arms out, turning in a circle. “Quite a spacious little home, isn’t it?”
I began seeing where he could put the couch, TV, and a cute circular dining table. Not wanting to overstep, I didn’t say any of that, happy to simply imagine it.
Lars chuckled and adjusted Lily on his hip. “I know what you’re thinking. Say it.”
I grinned. “I’m not thinking anything.”
“You are,” he said, moving closer. “It’s in your eyes.”
“Oh, it is, is it?” I asked, reaching out to fix Lily’s frill laden duck dress. “What am I thinking then?”
His dark eyes and his soft words had me melting. “Where the couch will go. The TV. I’m guessing even the dining table.” His thumb glided over my cheek. “I know you. You like to have a plan. And empty spaces mean plans.”
Taking his hand from my face, I squeezed it. “While that makes me want to kiss you stupid, it’s your place.” I smiled at Lily. “I’ll settle for decorating Lily’s room.”
“It’s yours too,” he said, so casually as if I should’ve already known. “Whenever you’re ready.”
My voice was a squeak. “What?”
“It’s a half an hour from Edmond and a half an hour from Boyd’s. The rent’s paid for six months. Seeing as I knew you wouldn’t take it back, I used most of the money from selling the car.” He put Lily down on the floor, where she smacked my boots, and one hand took my cheek as the other weaved into my hair. “I’m never going to fall out of love with you. If anything, I just continue to fall more every time I’m with you.” His eyes stole mine, kept them prisoner. “Are you still in love with me?”
“This is a huge decision, Lars,” I said, my hand fluttering to my lips.
“Are you?”
My hand dropped, my heart fluttering now. “You know the answer to that.”
He nodded, his mouth curling. “I want to hear you say it.”
My chest swelled and stretched. Fear became the skittish pulse in my neck, the ice layering the burns residing in my chest. But there was no saving myself from this, and hiding anything was futile. It was limitless, this extension of myself that didn’t feel like me at all. It felt endless, the way I couldn’t seem to shape out a future without its strength upon my chest. It was depthless, the way I continued to fall heart first even among frozen waters.
It was forever, this love.
And all I could do was submit.
Quiet but confident, I released on a stuttering exhale, “I love you.”
Lars blinked, lashes heavy over his glassing eyes, and his hand tense over my cheek. “Again.”
Tears colored my voice. “I love you. I’m in love with you. I fucking love you.”
His smile was the biggest and brightest I’d ever seen it, and it thawed those residual cold spaces. A part of me felt wretched for not being able to share those three words with him sooner, but then he kissed me and snuffed it.
Again, he kissed me, swift and sweet, whispering to my lips, “We’ve already been through it all, the worst of the worst, and here we are. We’ve survived. A little banged up, a lot bruised, but still intact. We’ve survived, and we’re still in love. And if we’ve survived this love, we shouldn’t be ducking and hiding from the danger it possesses. We should wear it like a badge of honor for all the world to see. Because this love …” His finger snuck beneath my chin. “It won’t be defeated. Ever.” He kissed my cheek. “Cotton, I want you.” Then my other one. “I need you. Here.” Then my forehead. “With us. Exactly where you belong.” Then he stopped, his lips returning to my mouth. “Forever?”
Every slice of air I drew warmed my chest, and it expanded as I struggled to contain the joy brewing inside.
Between one breath and the next, life could change forever. Our hopes, our dreams, our perceptions—all of it could be lost within a landslide, never to be seen again.
Unless we’re brave enough to dig deep, to immerse ourselves in the sharp, perilous rubble of what once was. It was there we’d find what was meant to be might be gone, but what will be could be found. If we’re brave enough to dust ourselves off repeatedly and fight.
Staring down at the girl trying to yank on my jeans to stand, my eyes began to burn, and my voice cracked when I looked back at Lars, and said, “And ever.”
Our mouths fused, and we laughed as Lily squealed, slapping at our legs.
Lars
Balloons, streamers, and table linens fluttered in the late breeze.
Pink, purple, and lime green were the birthday girl’s choice of colors for her seventh birthday, and Daphne, as per usual, indulged her. Perhaps a little too much.
Four squealing kids raced past as I stepped outside onto the back verandah, a tray of puff pastries in hand that almost tumbled to the ground.
I placed the tray down on the table, tossing some used juice boxes into a nearby trash bag.
The sudden silence had my eyes lifting. I dusted my hands on my jeans as I twirled around but found only discarded games and paper plates filled with half-eaten cupcakes and candy on the grass.
Squinting toward the paddocks, I cursed and raced over.
In a line that trailed out the stable doors, Lily’s friends stood with their heads tilted back or on their toes as Daphne let them all take turns patting Fletcher.
The dapple gray, even grumpy with age, took it all in stride as kid after kid waved their hands around and over his nose, neck, and mane.
A little over a year ago, we’d purchased the ranch for an extremely generous price from Petra. Part of Daphne’s inheritance, she’d said when we’d both balked. But we’d needed out of the apartment and had our sights set on a modest two-story home on the outskirts of town when Petra told us over dinner that she needed to sell, and she wanted to sell to us.
Now retired, she lived in a three-bedroom cottage by the bay but still visited the property at least four times a week.
We didn’t mind. Between Daphne’s job and mine, it was a godsend to have her help care for the horses. She’d sold three but Fletcher and his lady friend, Trinket, remained.
Daphne graduated Edmond with her coveted art history degree and worked in a clothing boutique for six months until an opening arrived at a small museum an hour’s drive from Magnolia Cove. There, she played tour guide for all of three months before wrangling the assistant curator title from a retiring gent who was more than willing to hand it over.
The travel bothered me, but she was able to trim her hours to four days a week, and thanks to the flexibility that came with working for myself, we made it work.
“Daddy,” Lily said, seated atop her usual perch on a stack of hay by the doors, a sucker in her mouth. “Can we ride him? Please?”
My eyes widened as all her friends began jumping and hollering, excitement piercing my eardrums. “No, Lil.”
She pouted at Daphne, who raised a brow. “I told you.”
Lily harrumphed and then brushed some di
rt from her glitter-covered cowgirl boots. Daphne’s and her idea, definitely not mine. They were rotten for our bank account, those two, but impossible to say no to.
Moans and whining crowded the horse’s home, and I blinked at Daphne, who winced.
Annika appeared behind the line of kids, shouting, “Who wants cake?”
They all screamed and ran out, their laughter making Fletcher and Trinket whinny.
Daphne shot her a thankful look, and Annika winked before darting off to join them.
I wouldn’t go as far as to say they were friends, but they’d definitely formed some type of bond that worked for them both. They weren’t close, but where our girl was concerned, they were. They co-parented like a team and rarely disagreed.
After showing up that first Christmas of Lily’s, Annika slowly waded back into our lives. Phone calls and twice monthly visits were all she could manage because of the distance and school. In hindsight, although she’d seemed to struggle with the guilt of it, I thought it was for the best.
Small doses were all I could handle, and for the longest time, Daphne would hang out with her and Lily when she visited while I tried to smother the rage her actions had caused. I felt like a dick, but it was at Daphne’s urging that I go do my own thing when Annika was in town, and I knew she wouldn’t have done so if she couldn’t handle it.
With time, the anger settled, but although I tolerated her and we got along just fine, I wasn’t about to befriend her. We didn’t need to be friends for this parenting gig to work.
Annika had Lily every second weekend, Friday after school through to Monday morning when she dropped her back at school, and she was happy with that.
She was still in law school, and that was where she’d met Ron, who had little to say and often just let her talk. Something she still loved to do. I didn’t mind the guy as long as he was good to my kid. For Lily, he cracked the stark look of boredom that constantly etched his face and actually seemed to want to listen to her ramblings.
He walked over the lawn, eyeing it skeptically as he cautiously chose where to place his expensively wrapped feet, and joined all the kids at the table while Annika and Petra brought out the cake.
“Another rainbow cake,” I said, winding my arms around Daphne as we took our time to join them beneath the willow trees.
“Don’t hate, especially when you know it tastes amazing.”
I hummed, nuzzling my nose into her neck. “Did you bake it?”
She snorted. “No, but I cleaned up after the baking, so I’m taking some credit.”
Chuckling, I stopped and grabbed her chin to drop my lips to hers.
“Where’s Art?”
Artemis Xander Bradby was three months old. With a mop of dark brown hair and iridescent green eyes, he was the spitting image of his mother.
“With your dad.” I smacked a kiss on her cheek, then her other cheek, then jogged over to the house when Xander walked outside with my boy.
“Freshly soiled is now freshly changed,” he said with a grimace that faded into a grin when Art smiled up at him, spit dribbling from his tiny lip.
Taking him, I held him to my chest, my chin and lips rubbing his tuft of hair. “Thanks. He sleep at all?”
Xander laughed. “Two minutes, then he heard a scream outside and was blinking up at me, wondering what the hell was going on and why we weren’t out there with the noise.”
The back door slapped shut. “You’ll be racing around in no time, young man.” Petra brushed his back, stroked his cheek, then bounded down the steps with more paper plates and plastic cutlery.
Daphne was helping Lily put the candles on the cake. Helping was putting it nicely. She was trying to rescue it while Lily stuck the candles exactly where she wanted them before changing her mind and moving them elsewhere.
Laughing, I descended the steps as Remington rounded the drive. He tipped his hat to a gawking little boy with a sucker halfway to his mouth before clapping me on the back.
Not long after moving into the apartment Daphne and I had leased through her college years, I’d gotten in touch with him and took him up on his offer.
Through him, I’d made enough contacts and gained enough experience to set up a business of my own.
Remington had his quirks—anyone who was willing to wander the less-than-stellar parts of towns and cities in search of talent would have to—but he was a good man. A good man who enabled me to live out a dream I never once dared to dream.
I’d already been living one, and ever since we’d found our way back to one another, I still resisted the urge to blink myself awake at just the sight of her.
“Hello, young Art.” Remington peered curiously at my son. “He looks bigger.”
I chuckled. “Probably because the last time you saw him, he was a newborn.”
He bobbed his head. “True, true. How’s the beach piece coming?”
My cheeks billowed as I sighed. “Almost ready, thank fuck.” I was creating a mockup for a mural that would span an entire boardwalk farther up the coast.
Unfortunately, not everyone wanted funky, unique art. A lot of the time, I had to bend and dull it down to match their visions. It was times like this that I remembered my job at Boyd’s, which I liked okay enough, but I didn’t love.
This, no matter how fussy some clients could get, how insistent, was something I loved. Something I woke up day after day, no matter how anxious and irritated over the project, and still managed to find joy in. In the color and textures coming to life at the mercy of my own hands.
“Mom, where’s Borris?” Lily, wide-eyed, asked Daphne, who dropped the lighter and helped Lily search for him.
She’d called her Mom since she’d learned how to associate a person with the word, and even though she knew Annika was the one who carried her inside her stomach and brought her into this world, she still chose to.
Daphne had cried the first time Lily had yanked her dress and said it, tears of happiness that turned into sadness when she thought it wasn’t right.
It wasn’t right.
It was perfect, and I’d told her so repeatedly until she’d finally accepted it. Annika, surprisingly, didn’t mind. And Lily thought being able to say she had two moms, just like her friend Penelope from school, was the coolest thing ever.
Daphne and Annika had pursed their lips at that, then shrugged.
Lily and Daphne found Borris, the rainbow bear I’d won Daphne on our first date, beneath a tree. Lily had named him that when she was three and found the bear inside our closet. She’d refused to change his name, and she’d refused to give the bear back. She did promise to take extra good care of him, though.
Lily stabbed a finger in the bear’s face. “You’re not supposed to nap during a party, Borris.”
Daphne, directing them back to the table where everyone was waiting, coughed to smother her laughter.
“How’s your mom?” Remington asked as we meandered over.
Daphne pulled out her phone and smacked her thumb at the screen.
“That’ll be her now.”
“Nanny!” Lily screamed.
Mom’s smiling face appeared as Daphne propped the phone up and turned it to face Lily. “There’s my birthday girl. Have you saved me some cake?”
Lily laughed. “You can’t eat cake when you’re not here, silly.”
Daphne snorted, and I took the phone, saying a quick hello to her and Vince before turning it to face the birthday girl and her friends while everyone sang “Happy Birthday.”
“How’s Hawaii?” I asked afterward, ducking beneath the shade of the trees with Art asleep on my chest.
“Just gorgeous. I already can’t wait to come back.”
Vince laughed in the background. “She said that last time.”
Mom rolled her eyes, then cooed at Art. “But I wish I could be there, too.”
“No, you don’t,” Daphne said, moving in beside me and lifting her hair to show the icing streaking the dark strands. “I need a na
p.”
Mom smirked. “Save it for later, doll. But eat some actual cake for me.”
We chatted about their vacation and more about the party, then agreed to have dinner next week when they arrived home.
She now lived with Vince. The little house we called home now belonged to a young family who bought it from her two years ago.
It took a while for her to give in even after we’d left. I could understand that. When your independence was all you had left, it felt like life or death to kiss it goodbye and take a leap of faith.
Not that I’d expected or ever wanted to, but I hadn’t seen Ellis since that fate-ruining afternoon in Daphne’s bedroom. Maybe it should’ve bugged me that the only time I saw my father in the flesh, in any form I could remember, was in my girl’s room, but I didn’t care enough about him to give a damn.
If experience had taught me anything, it was that those who were worth worrying over hung around and made it their business to worry about you too.
Olivia, Daphne’s Mom, had tried to visit when Art was born, but Daphne had sent her away without even blinking. She hadn’t heard from her before then, and she said she didn’t want to hear from her after either. Supposedly, she’d tried to reconcile with Xander, but he was now dating Tyrelle, a nurse at the hospital, and didn’t even consider it.
We had no idea if she still worked for Ellis, and we didn’t much care; we just hoped we never ran into them. The fact we hadn’t in the past six years said we probably didn’t need to concern ourselves with that. Ellis never lived in the cove, and Olivia would’ve bumped into one of us by now if she still did.
Daphne stuck her nose to Art’s cheek, her eyes fluttering closed when she inhaled. “I want him.”
“He’s finally asleep.” I was reluctant to hand him over, and she knew it. I’d been so busy working these past weeks that I felt like I’d blinked and he was smiling all the damn time.
“Hog,” she breathed, pressing her lips to my cheek.
I watched her ass sway as she sauntered back to the table, wondering how much longer this shit needed to drag on for. She was on maternity leave for another two months, and I was pissed I hadn’t been able to make the most of it since she got the all clear.
