Pieces of Camden (Hole-Hearted #1)

by Yessi Smith

  Olivia nods, uncertainty tracing every feature on her face.

  I hesitate, looking to Yanelys for guidance.

  “A long time ago, you asked me who your dad was and where he went,” she begins.

  Her words resonate in the cool air as my past hangs over us and slams its fist into my gut.

  “And I told you he had to go away but that he loved you very much. Do you remember that?” Yanelys asks, her voice calm, affectionate, and reassuring.

  Olivia nods.

  “When your dad left, he didn’t know I was pregnant with you—”

  “He made a mistake,” I cut off whatever else Yanelys was going to say.

  Two pairs of eyes look back at me.

  “He was a scared boy, and he thought leaving your mom and grandparents was the right thing to do, but he also left because he was afraid. He mostly left because he was afraid.” My throat bobs, the saliva thickening, as I continue to speak, “He had bad parents, the kind who hurt him a lot growing up. The only good he had in his life was your mom, Ita, and Tito. It was a dumb decision, but he got scared one day and left them. He never called, wrote them letters, or anything. He didn’t know you existed. He would’ve come home sooner if he had because—your mom’s right—he loves you very much. I’m not trying to make excuses, Livvy. I’m just telling you what happened so that you understand. It’s okay if you’re angry with him, but I promise you, he’ll make it up to you.”

  “Is my dad back?” Olivia asks, caution seeping from her sweet voice.

  “Yeah.” I let out a small breath of air. “And I’m not going anywhere ever again. You and your mom? You’re it for me. You’re my girls, my whole life. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, showing you what you mean to me,” I press on, the ache in my chest growing with every admission, leaving me breathless.

  Olivia crawls out of Yanelys’s lap and takes a step toward where I’m sitting, so she’s standing in front of me with her arms crossed over her chest.

  “You’re my dad?” Her brows draw together in question.

  “Yes.” My heart derails as her eyes trace over my face, and I wait for her to hate me.

  She sucks in her bottom lip and nods her head. “You’re not leaving again?” Her voice quakes.

  I reach for her, pulling her small body onto my lap, and I hug her to me.

  “Never.” I press a kiss to her temple and then pull her away, so she can see the honesty behind my words. “It’s okay if you’re angry with me, Livvy. Just give me a chance to make things right and be your dad.”

  Delicate small hands touch my clean-shaven face before she wraps her arms around my neck. “My heart loves you too much to be mad at you.”

  With my daughter in my arms, my body begins to shake as tears of remorse and relief skate down my cheeks and into her dark brown hair. Yanelys’s arms go around both of us, her faith coursing through me as I finally become a part of my family.

  Seconds turn into minutes, but I hold my girls, my life source. When Olivia begins to squirm, I reluctantly let her go and am met with her curious dark eyes.

  “Mom said I could ask you anything.” Her lips twitch, the sides lifting, as she waits for my response.

  “Anything,” I repeat.

  “Since you’re my dad, will you let me have soda at dinner?”

  Laughter rings in my ears, and I join Yanelys in our shared joy as I shake my head at Olivia’s question.

  “I won’t be overriding your mom,” I tell her when I can finally speak. “But maybe we can come to a compromise.”

  “What sort of compromise?” Yanelys asks, her brows shooting up.

  “I vote for a movie night every Friday. We can have pizza, soda, popcorn—”

  “And chocolate!” Olivia interrupts, bouncing on her heels.

  “And chocolate.”

  We turn our heads and wait for Yanelys to make the executive decision, and then we whoop in the air when she agrees. Olivia’s smile stretches across her face, and she hugs my neck one final time before she runs to her bedroom to play, Nisa following close behind her.

  Love overflows in my veins, making the moment feel surreal.

  I wasn’t there when Olivia was born. I wasn’t there for any of her firsts. Hell, I wasn’t even the first man she loved, Santiago rightfully taking that place in her heart.

  But I am her dad, and our bond…our bond is real, our souls tied together. I have a commitment to her, and from sunrise to sunset, I’ll keep my word and never for a second waver. The depth of my love for her is endless, and as long as I’m alive, she’ll know it.

  THIRTY-SIX

  YANELYS

  The road spans out in front of me as I beat my feet down into the hard pavement. My blood pumps harder, faster, stronger, and my chest heaves with every purposeful step. With my earphones blaring, I continue to jog, my body slicing through the air, as the breeze whips around my face. Thoughts of Camden cascade in my mind, unfurling and settling in my heart.

  His courage, his unwillingness to give up, his love for his daughter, so effortless and true.

  The horizon blazes with the rising sun, and while everything in my neighborhood still looks the same, everything is different. I’m different.

  I keep a steady pace and focus on my breathing as I round the corner and see Camden waiting for me in front of our house. With his shoulders straight and his head unbowed, I see the man he has always been meant to be.

  I breathe in a lungful of the morning air when I greet him and bend over, placing my hands on my knees. Sweat coats my skin, and Camden traces a light finger over it, igniting the flames I carry for him. Our eyes meet, and when I stand back up, he takes my face in his hands and kisses my lips, taking his time as his tongue prods and pulls from me.

  “So beautiful,” he whispers against my mouth.

  “Sweaty and disgusting is more like it,” I counter.

  He chuckles, his breath falling on my skin when he draws closer to me and licks my lips.

  “Beautiful and tasty.” He smirks.

  “Did you come out here just to taste and taunt me?” I raise my eyebrows in question.

  He laughs again but takes a step back, his body tensing. “I’ve been thinking”—he brushes his hands over his face and laughs nervously—“maybe you’re right.” He stops, his eyes meeting mine.

  “Of course I’m right,” I acknowledge, taking Camden’s hand in mine and leading us back indoors. “What am I right about?”

  His body relaxes with my easy banter. He follows me to the kitchen and prepares a glass of water for me when I sit at the bar.

  He waits for me to finish drinking, and when I put the water down, he answers, “I’m going to meet Edward.” His voice breaks, making my heart squeeze in my chest. “I looked him up online while you were jogging, and he’s still at the same address my da—Herb gave me.”

  “Oh,” I breathe out the word, letting it hang in the air, as I search Camden’s face.

  His eyes fill with unrestrained emotions, but he keeps them at bay, so I do the same with the emotions twisting inside me.

  “When?”

  “Today.” His hands comb through his hair.

  “Okay.”

  “Come with me?” he asks, his voice calm, while his eyes plead with me.

  “Of course. I can take Livvy to school this morning and call in sick at work. I’ll also ask my parents to pick Livvy up from school and take her to their place, so we can go whenever you’re ready.”

  “Okay.” His throat bobs when he swallows.

  “I’m proud of you, Cam,” I say, keeping my eyes trained on his. “I just wanted you to know that.”

  He nods once as an awkward silence hangs between us. I smile to lighten the mood, but Camden looks away.

  “I’m going to make breakfast while you shower.”

  “No chocolate chip pancakes,” I tease.

  His eyes lighten. “Don’t worry, Mom.” He smiles. “I told Livvy I was making strawberry waffles.”


  In the shower, I take my time, so Camden and Olivia can spend some time together without me. Knowing Camden can use some of Olivia’s lightness, I don’t bother worrying about whether she’ll make it to school on time. School can wait.

  Camden…Camden needs her.

  It took two days for him to come to terms with the fact that he should meet his biological dad, and during those days, I’d felt his apprehension grow as he mulled it over. Fear had gripped my throat. Fear that he’d leave or that he’d give in to his addiction.

  But Olivia would waltz into whatever room he had been brooding in and wash away his pain so smoothly that it was as if the pain never existed. And I pray, one day, the pain no longer exists. That it becomes a memory so distant that he no longer feels it.

  After I finish in the bathroom, I call my parents and then work to let them know I won’t be going in today. A part of my heart grows sad, knowing someday in the future I’ll no longer be working there. In the five years I’ve spent at the animal shelter, it has become my second home, and leaving my friends and the dogs and cats that would undoubtedly spend their lives in that shelter hurts me profoundly.

  But I want to start my new adventure with Camden. I love his idea of opening a center for foster kids, and I am delighted that he liked my idea of incorporating rescue dogs into his program.

  Our program. I smile. Our center. Our kids.

  I braid my hair as I walk to the kitchen, stopping just outside the room for a moment so that I can listen to Camden and Olivia. Camden’s laughter fills the open spaces of the house, vibrating off the walls and crashing into my soul.

  Feeling better, I step into the kitchen. The smell of freshly made waffles makes my stomach do happy flips, so I take two from the pile Camden’s building by the stove and sit next to Olivia. I eye her as she gets the butter knife and starts to put globs of butter on my waffles. My lips twitch as she tries to spread it but ends up tearing the tender pieces apart.

  “You’re a good helper,” I say, proud that she wants to help.

  She looks back at me with pride brimming from her eyes, and my lips brush over her hair as I place a kiss on the back of her head.

  “They’re really good, Mom. Wait till you try them.” She bounces on her chair in excitement. “I think maybe Cam should be the one who cooks from now on.”

  I smirk, all too happy to hand over the cooking duties to Camden. “No complaints from me.”

  “Except for pizza. You make the best pizzas in the world!” she says.

  “The rest is on me, huh?” Camden’s eyes shine back at us, his lips turning into a beautiful smile.

  “Looks like it,” I agree, craning my neck around, seeing the mountain of waffles grow. “There are enough waffles to last us all week. Come eat with us.”

  Rather than wait for his reply, I take Olivia’s and my plates to the dining room table while Olivia takes her glass of milk. Camden follows behind us with two mugs of coffee. He hands one to me, and I breathe in the sweet aroma of morning bliss.

  “You’re not eating?” I ask.

  “I’m stealing from your plate.”

  “You’re assuming I’m going to just let you eat my waffles?”

  “Yeah.” He smirks.

  “Wrong,” I reply, pushing the plate toward him after I cut a few pieces.

  When the door opens and I hear my dad’s voice booming through the house, I stand up, leaving Camden more than half of the waffles and strawberries to finish.

  “Eat,” I order before I greet my parents.

  “Yeah, eat,” Olivia repeats.

  I shake my head when I hear Camden reply with a, “Yes, ma’am.”

  That’s my family. Camden and Olivia. And my parents.

  We talk with them for a short while before my parents leave to drop Olivia off at school. Just as I walk my mom and Olivia to the car, I catch my dad talking to Camden. Camden nods his head several times and holds on to my dad when my dad hugs him.

  And I love them even more. My dad for loving Camden, and Camden for loving my dad.

  When we go back inside, Camden stands by our couch and stares off into space. I take his cold hands in mine, holding on to him with my hands, trying to warm him. When he looks at me, I offer him a small smile that he returns.

  “What do you want to watch?” I ask him.

  “Remember the day your parents took me in?” He pulls me to his side, his fingers caressing the exposed skin on my upper arm.

  “Yeah. My mom decorated the house with balloons, and we ate pizza on the couch while we watched Iron Man.” My heart beats wildly in my chest as I remember that day. How nervous I was. How completely perfect it turned out. How similar it felt when he came home from the rehab center.

  “Iron Man is still my favorite movie.”

  “Great.” I grin, standing up and walking to the television. “I have it on DVD.”

  I feel Camden’s eyes bore into me while I put the DVD into the player. Like my dad did so many years ago, I give Camden the remote and wait for him to be ready to start the movie. I snuggle into his body, letting my head rest below his chin, and my skin fills with goose bumps as his fingers dance over my arm.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  CAMDEN

  My fingers tap the steering wheel of Yanelys’s car as I drive us down the street of Edward’s neighborhood. The trees on either side of the narrow road cast shadows in front of us. I pass his house for a second time and consider turning around, so we can go back home.

  It took me most of the day and two movies to build up the courage to get in the car. Yanelys handed me her keys, letting me make the decision on where we drove. I hadn’t driven in years, but even without a driver’s license, being behind the wheel, having some semblance of control, centered me. At least until we reached his neighborhood.

  “Cam”—Yanelys’s soft voice breaks the silence—“pull over.”

  Without uttering a word, I do as she said, and I set the car in park beside a random driveway. Our eyes lock together. Worry creases her forehead, so I pull her to me and rest my forehead on hers. Our breaths mix together in a seductive dance, hers falling on my lips, warm and moist in the cool air of the car.

  Desire burns in the pit of my stomach. Our lips touch, the burning growing, spreading. My tongue touches hers, and she moans softly in my mouth. My hands scramble to touch her, lifting the soft fabric of her shirt, and I run circles over her bra with my fingers. Just as my fingers work their way under her bra and I cup her breast, a loud knock on Yanelys’s window brings us back to the present. I salute the angry man standing on the curb with my middle finger while Yanelys stifles a laugh.

  A smile falls from my lips, and I turn the car around, finally ready to meet Edward.

  “Okay”—I take Yanelys’s hand—“let’s do this.”

  Her fingers squeeze around mine. “I’m right here. Whatever you need.”

  I wiggle my eyebrows, a coy smile playing on my face. “What if I need you back there?” I gesture toward the backseat.

  She bites her bottom lip. “We can do that, too. After dark.”

  Her cautious eyes meet mine, and need twists inside me.

  “Stop looking at me like that, Yan, or I’m turning the car around and taking you straight to our bed.”

  A blush creeps up her neck and plays on her cheeks. She’s so damn cute that I can hardly stand it. Smiling, I take our intertwined fingers to my lips and kiss her hand. Her chest lifts as her breath comes out, rough and just as urgent as mine.

  I turn into Edward’s driveway, and without hesitating, Yanelys opens her car door, so I follow suit. I meet her in front of the car, and our hands immediately seek each other. Hand in hand, we walk toward uncertainty.

  Before we reach the door, a large figure steps out, and I stop walking. He looks so much like my dad—like Herb, and it leaves me breathless. The constant fear of my childhood creeps in, but I do my best to swallow it down, not wanting my nerves to get the best of me.

  �
��Mr. Riley?” Yanelys asks, pulling me along with her.

  Edward squints as we approach him, and then his eyes grow wide in recognition. “Cam…Camden?” His voice shakes and I wonder if he sees my dad, too.

  My lungs struggle for their next breath. Yanelys’s grip on me tightens and warmth spreads, chasing away the frigid despair.

  “Yeah.” My voice comes out rough as I take a step toward him. “I don’t know how to do this.” Letting go of Yanelys’s hand, I rub my face before I reach into my front pocket of my jeans and hand him the same letter Herb gave me seven years ago, the one that sent my life into a tailspin of unknowns, of distress. “Just read this.”

  My outstretched hand shakes, but rather than take the letter, Edward steps forward and clasps my right shoulder for a few beats before he says, “Come inside.”

  When neither Yanelys nor I move, he adds, “Please.”

  Yanelys looks back at me, again giving me control of the situation and a decision that will alter my life once again. I nod once, and she gives me a hopeful small smile.

  That’s what Yanelys is. What she offers me. Hope. And faith. And love without conditions.

  Warm air greets me when we walk into Edward’s house, and we follow him into his living room.

  He sits. Yanelys sits. I stand. I fidget.

  On an exhale, I remove my coat and take a seat next to Yanelys. She takes my hand, rubbing her thumb in rhythmic circles.

  Edward looks back at us, his eyes unbelieving that I’m here.

  “It’s been years,” he stammers out. “Your dad…” He trails off, swallowing hard.

  My jaw twitches.

  “The last time I saw you was on your second birthday. Your dad…he got angry while I was playing with you, and he kicked me out. I wasn’t welcome after that.” He wrings his fingers into tight knots, making the tips of them red.

  “Because you slept with my mom?” I ask, my eyes holding his, not letting him look away.