by Zoe York
“I can keep them.”
“You told my son you love him,” she whispered, propping her forehead in her hand. She’d curled up on her bed. He wanted desperately to be there with her, to hold her and let her get it all out. “Do you have any idea what it will do to him if you flake?”
Yeah, he’d said that he loved the kid because he did. But someone wanted to take things slow and it sure as hell wasn’t him.
At least, it wasn’t him now. Shit. He couldn’t remember a time before Faith made him want things that weren’t on offer.
He couldn’t get mad at her. It wasn’t fair. But the burn in his gut didn’t feel fair, either. “You don’t think I know how serious it is to tell someone they’re loved? To tell a child that I’ll never leave them?”
“Do you?” She shrugged, a little gesture that said way too much. “You’re a great guy—”
“Stop saying that.” His voice was cold as ice now. He needed to hang up. They needed to try this again another day when their feelings weren’t so unexpectedly raw. He knew that, and yet he couldn’t stop. “My earliest memory is of my father calling my mother a bitch and walking out. I must have been three. And it happened more than once, until one day he didn’t come back for a while.”
She stared at him in obvious disbelief. “But your parents…”
He laughed, not caring if it sounded hard and unfeeling. “Yeah. My mother dragged him back, and I guess he realized it was easier with her than without. My entire life, I’ve known that my parents love each other, but there’s a part of them that hate each other, too. And we never talk about it, so welcome to my dirty little secret.”
“No,” she whispered. “That’s not true. They’re so happy together.”
He clenched his jaw. “You’ve met them once, Faith. Don’t tell me anything about their marriage.”
She pressed her lips together. Even across the wobbly Internet connection, he could tell her eyes were welling up with tears. “But you get to tell me about my son?”
“No, babe. I was trying to tell you about me. Not Eric. Me. That I’m going to be there for him, no matter what. But you don’t believe that, do you?”
“I said I don’t know.”
“That’s not what you said. You questioned my word.”
“Okay, I don’t know what I meant. I’m…” Tears were flooding her cheeks now and in the background he heard her bedroom door open. Eric asked if she was okay, and she waved him over.
Shit, shit, shit.
He felt impotent to fix his blundering.
“Zander, I gotta go,” she whispered. Her fingers reached for the screen, and he reached out too, wanting to touch her if only through glass and fiberoptic connection, but instead of touching his video image, she disconnected the call.
It took all his willpower to not throw his phone across the room.
— SEVENTEEN —
ZANDER’S first text message pinged her phone before she went to bed that night.
I’m sorry. Call me back?
He had nothing to be sorry for. She’d lost her shit over old ground. So much for being ready to date. So much for the past being settled. It was her apology to make, and she couldn’t. Not yet. She sobbed herself to sleep, smothering her cries in her pillow, wishing everything was different. Easier, less fraught with history that was not of Zander’s making. She came with so much baggage, a lot of it unexpected and messy.
The next morning, he tried to call and she let it go to voice mail. She listened to the empty message over and over again. The silence followed by the nearly imperceptible sigh, then a click. To listen to this message again, press three. Beep.
She zombied her way through breakfast and let her mom take Eric to school. When she climbed back into bed, her pillow was still damp. She lay down on it anyway.
The next text message ping made her cry before she even read it, and her heart cracked once she did.
What did you pack in Eric’s lunch today? I hope he eats it. I’m sure it’s delicious.
A ham and cheese sandwich with cucumber slices and goldfish crackers on the side was hardly gourmet, but it was Eric’s favourite. And she desperately hoped he’d eat, too. She worried about him so much.
Maybe Zander did, too.
It’s pretty fucking real for me. He’d said that their first week together. Did he still feel the same way? Would they even make it to the spring? Long-distance dating was hard enough. Long-distance fighting was a recipe for disaster.
Babe?
That one-word message destroyed her. She knew she just needed to talk to him, but she didn’t trust herself to say the right things that would protect their new relationship. So she turned her phone off, and left it off for three days.
She buried herself in edits and marketing plans, and rewarded herself for any reasonable amount of productivity with a curl-up on her bed where she let herself wallow in sadness. She hugged a pillow tight and tried to figure out how to be a better girlfriend.
Turning on her phone would be an excellent start.
But for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to do that.
At the very least, she should tell him that she knew he was a good man. That she saw his patience and his kindness, and she’d quickly learned to appreciate it—really—but now that she knew the root of it, she was even more touched. She was so angry at his parents, at his father, for not knowing the impact their fighting had on his child.
Every time she thought about him hearing that at the age of three, she started crying. No wonder he was a life-long bachelor.
At least he’d learned to live his own life differently. On his own terms, sure, but with kindness. He was the most considerate boyfriend she’d ever had. If he ever decided he wanted a marriage, he’d make a wonderful husband.
A wonderful father.
The kind who knew how scary it would be to be abandoned, either by fate or by choice.
Her phone was a heavy weight in her pocket as she watched Eric swing across the monkey bars. They’d stopped at the park on their way home, but that had been a mistake, because she looked at the curb and the bench and the swing set and heard Zander in each of those places. Felt his gaze and smelled his unique scent that had imprinted so successfully on her.
So much for just being her Mr. Right Now. She’d gone and fallen in love with someone who wasn’t available on her terms. Their first fight had been over nothing and it had still slayed her soul. What would it be like when their fight was over him wanting to ride his bike to Central America or climb a mountain?
She wanted those fights, though. They scared the pants off her, that was definitely true. But better to have them, to have him, than not.
She pulled out her phone and turned it on, and after it connected to the network, a dozen messages flooded in. The most recent was a re-iteration of some of the previous points, all pulled together in a plea that finally snapped through her frozen attitude.
I know I overstepped… Fuck, Faith, I’m no good at this, I get that. But I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please let me call you. Give me a chance to say I’m sorry straight to you.
Blinking back tears, she typed in a quick response. I’m sorry. I miss you. But she couldn’t add that, her fingers wouldn’t tap the keys. She couldn’t do this at the park. I’ll call you tonight.
“Faith!”
She turned, looking for the female voice calling her name. From across the grass between the playground and the fire station and ambulance bay, Dani Foster waved at her, then broke out into a jog. She was in her paramedic’s uniform.
Faith took a deep, fortifying breath. If he’d sent his sister to play peacemaker, that wasn’t going to go well. Faith didn’t want anyone else to know just how neurotic she was. So when the other woman stopped in front of her, she went on the offence—small talk, wedding-style. “How was your honeymoon?”
Dani grinned, looking just like a prettier version of her brother. “Not nearly long enough. If our entire family wasn’t on the penin
sula, I’d be tempted to move to the Caribbean, because oh my God, that water is blue. And Jake could wear board shorts year round.”
“I went to Turks and Caicos on my honeymoon, I know what you mean. It’s just gorgeous.” Faith laughed. “As is your husband, of course.”
“I’m biased, but I know, right? Speaking of handsome men, I have two pictures for you.” Dani reached into the large pocket on her pant leg and pulled out a cream envelope. “Our photographer gave us all the digital files, too, so if you’d rather, I can email them to you? But I really love how these prints turned out. Way better than when I get them run off at the grocery store. I figured giving them to you made more sense than Zander, since he’ll just be packing stuff up and bringing it back here soon enough.”
So he hadn’t told anyone about the fight. She gave a sigh of relief and flipped the flap up, then tugged out the glossy images. The first one was of the four of them, and they were all laughing. “This is a great shot,” she murmured, and then her voice caught in her throat as she flipped it over and caught sight of the image beneath it.
Her and Zander, maybe just a few seconds later? The photographer had zoomed in as Zander turned to her and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. Her face was tipped up toward his and the look on his face… “Oh.”
“You guys are perfect for each other,” Dani said. “I know Zander said you want to take things slowly, but the way he looks at you…”
Faith blinked back tears. It’s just a picture. They’d both been swept up in the emotion of the day, that was all. “Thank you.” Her voice was thick and she coughed to cover it up.
“What’s that, Mommy?” Eric appeared at her side, tugging on her arm. The kid was getting too good at his stealth-mode sneak up.
“Careful of your fingers,” she whispered, dropping down to his level. She showed him the two pictures, and he reached out his index finger to touch Zander’s face on both pictures. Heart. Splat.
“I miss Zander,” he said.
“Me, too.”
“Me, three?” Dani added and Eric laughed.
Faith sighed. She needed to stop being so damn sad, so damn scared, and get over herself. She stood up. “Dani, this is Eric, my son. Eric, this is Zander’s sister.”
“I know.”
“You do?” asked Dani with an amused look.
He nodded. “Zander told me all about you.”
Oh dear lord. Faith pressed her lips together and tried to keep a straight face. Dani looked like she could handle crazy kids. “What on Earth did Zander tell you about Dani?”
Eric rolled his eyes. “I can’t tell you. They’re boy secrets.”
Dani laughed. “That means Zander called me a crazy bride.” She shrugged. “He wouldn’t be completely wrong.”
Eric frowned. “No…he said you were on the moon happy, and it was a man’s job to keep you there.” He nodded, proud of himself for remembering that. “And that’s cool, because I want to go to the moon.”
Faith stared at Eric, then looked at Dani, and as soon as their eyes met, they lost it.
“On the moon?” Faith repeated after she got her giggles under control, her voice still cracking with amusement.
“Keep me there?” Dani wiped at her eyes as she took a deep breath. “Oh kid, you’re a keeper. You’re going to make someone very happy someday.”
“I know.” He sighed. “Then I’ll have to stop wearing sweatpants. But Zander promises there’s cake.”
— —
Zander’s phone lit up and skittered on his bedrooms’ fake wood flooring. He had it on vibrate out of force of habit, but ever since Faith had sent her short response earlier that day, he’d been on hyper alert waiting for her call. He shoved the kit he’d been packing out of the way and lunged for the phone.
It was just a regular call, no video. His chest seized up and he told himself to settle the fuck down. “Hello?”
“Hi.” Her voice was so small, it broke his heart.
“Babe.” He swallowed. “God, I’ve missed you.”
She sniffled.
“No tears,” he whispered.
“I’m so sorry, Zander. I’ve been awful.”
“No, no, no. You’ve been scared. I get it. It’s okay.”
A long, slow, reedy exhale filled his ear. He wanted to feel that breath on his neck as he held her close. “I’ve missed you, too.”
He pressed the phone so close to his ear that it pinched his skin. “Then that’s all that matters, right?”
“Your sister found me and Eric at the park today.”
“Yeah?”
“She had a picture of us from the wedding that she thought we’d like.”
“And did you like it?”
Another sound that suspiciously hinted at tears. “Yeah.”
He laughed gently. “Good.”
“I’m scared, Zander.”
He wanted to tell her that he was, too, but that would be a lie. The truth was, they weren’t in the same place. Maybe they needed to talk about that. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know.” But it sounded like maybe she did, so he took a leap.
“I think you know what I want. I’ve hinted at it already, but you’ve said that you wanted to take things slow.”
“We’ve only known each other a short time. I think that’s fair.”
Maybe it was. But how he felt about her wasn’t reasonable, or fair, or rational. It didn’t feel like he’d known her for a short time. He knew she was a free spirit and a proud mother. A loyal daughter. A writer who could weave magic out of twenty-six ordinary letters, turning them into words that entertained and bewitched.
He knew her.
And he knew himself.
“I lied to you, Faith. I don’t want to be your Mr. Right Now, and you already know that. I want to be your Mr. Right, period. But it’s more than that. I want you to trust me with your deepest fears and I want to take care of you.”
“I think I want that, too.”
Think? Fuck, this was hard. He could practically hear his mother, his brother, his sister all telling him to wake up and get with the program. Love was hard. Falling in love was the easy part. Keeping one’s shit together while the person you love freaks the fuck out—that was the real challenge.
But inside the doubtful wrapping was exactly what he’d been hoping to hear all this time. Despite her fear, Faith wanted him. He’d spent a fair bit of time thinking about how to take their relationship to the next level. Over the phone on the tail end of a fight wasn’t one the scenarios he’d considered, but he didn’t want to wait any longer. “Well, I know I want that. And I know it enough for both of us. But you can’t shut me out like that.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Do it again and I’m showing up on your doorstep,” he said gruffly. “And then I’ll be court-martialed for going AWOL, so that would be bad.”
“Zander, don’t you dare risk something like that, not for me.”
Not for her? Crazy woman.
“Of course I’d do that for you. I love you.”
It would have felt a hell of a lot better if at the exact same moment she hadn’t said, “I don’t think we should do this on the phone.”
—EIGHTEEN —
“WHAT?” Faith couldn’t have heard that correctly. Not after her silent treatment and hysterical meltdown.
Zander cleared his throat. “Maybe you’re right.”
“No, say it again,” she whispered, her pulse was flying.
“You sure? Because even a guy like me can be sensitive about—”
“I just meant you shouldn’t joke about going AWOL.” She couldn’t breath. “Say it again, Zander.”
“I love you,” he repeated, more roughly this time. “And I wanted to wait until we were on the same page and in the same province to spring that on you, but it needed to be said. I don’t want you to run scared because if you do, I’ll just chase you, and like I say, there are consequences to that. So…don’t be s
cared. I’ll wait forever for you to be on the same page. But I’m done waiting without action, you know? I’m going to tell you how I feel, because you deserve to hear it.”
“You love me.” She felt faint. And warm, suddenly, after days of being cold to her bones.
“Very much. What did you think I was going to say?”
Her first instinct was that no way was she telling him the truth. But that flew in the face of everything he just said. She closed her eyes and winced. “There might be a small part of me that worried you might think this is all just a bit much. Want to take a break or something.”
He laughed.
Laughed!
And not gently, either.
“It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny, because…” He sighed and laughed again. “You know what? I think we’ve had enough for one night. Tell me about the plans for Eric’s birthday party.”
“Wait.” She swallowed. “I love you, too.”
“You don’t need to say it just because I did.”
“But I do. And you deserve to hear it, way more than me. You’re lovely, Zander. And I’ve missed you.” As soon as she said it out loud, the truth of that statement released so much tension from her body. “I miss you, actively. And this is hard, because I love you.”
“You don’t know how good that sounds.” His voice poured more of that delicious warmth straight into her veins.
“Feels good to say, too.”
“I miss you too, babe. Both you and Eric.”
A pang of guilt sliced through her for keeping them apart the last few days. She’d lied to Eric—another pang, not the first she’d felt about it—and told him Zander had to work away from his phone.
“He’s been sleeping with the helmet every night.”
“Seriously? That’s awesome. I’d love to talk to him in the morning, before he goes to school, if there’s time?”
