Somebody Else (Somebody, Nobody Duet Book 1)
Page 8
Ginger took her last breath and I gave the family as much time as they needed.
Wow, I can’t believe I just wrote that out. I never talked about that with anyone. Not that I don’t have anyone to talk to. I’m not some crazy cat lady or anything like that. I just try not to bring my work home with me.
Ugh. Why is writing to you so comfortable right now? Maybe it’s because I don’t know if you’ll read this. But in a way, I know you will. I know the second the email pops up on your phone, you’ll read it. It makes me smile, Brice. But it makes me a little nervous. There’s so much going on in my life, you know? It’s hard to imagine a way to just jump back in time. Not that you suggested we do that or anything. Meeting up though… where does that take us? Coffee, a beer, water, a handshake. I mean, just think about that for a second. Where does that take us? That’s a heavy decision to make. Yet my mind has already made it for me.
You know I would love to meet up. To actually hear your voice and have you hear mine. Instead of this goofy emailing stuff back and forth.
But there’s something I have to tell you. Before anything gets messed up or misunderstood.
I’m with someone, Brice.
And not just ‘with someone’ … it’s really serious.
I feel so guilty writing that, and I shouldn’t. I just don’t want you to get hurt and I don’t want you to suddenly stop writing to me because of that. But I want to be honest with you, so I know where your mind and heart is.
I’m with someone and we have a house together. We bought a house in a quiet neighborhood and I have a nice, quiet, simple life. I get to wake up every morning and go to my veterinarian practice and take care of animals. Then I get to come home to a quiet and safe house.
It’s so weird describing this to you because I feel like it’s going to hurt you. And it hurts me to imagine you being hurt. I just needed to tell you that before anything else can happen. So if you still want to meet up to catch up on old times, that would be nice. I would definitely love to see more pictures. I really don’t have any pictures… well, no, let me be honest. I have zero pictures. It’s really amazing that you kept some of them. Thank you for doing that.
Oh, before I forget, I’m going to include a different email address to use. I have so many on my phone as it is, I can’t keep up with the emails. So that way I will have one email to check which will be just for your emails. It’ll help me make sure I don’t miss anything. Also I’ll have any pictures you send in one spot.
This is going to sound weird, Brice, but can you just maybe quickly reply after reading this? Just an ‘okay’ even, so I know you’ve read it. My stomach is in knots right now because of what I told you. It’s hard to explain why… but just please do me the quick favor and let me know you’ve read this.
I’ll then start looking at my other email. I hope you write back.
It’s so good to do this, Brice. There’s not a day that goes by that a part of me doesn’t miss this. No matter what happened, we were such a big part of each other’s lives. I think the idea of distance and a little time was good, but it all got swept up so fast and for so long.
I want to hear more about you. Not that Brice from back then, but the Brice right now. I know you said there are some hard situations going on that you don’t want to type about. So maybe I can actually hear what’s going on. I hope it’s nothing too serious. I mean, I hope you are at least happy in your life. I know I am.
Talk to you soon.
Kinsley
I looked up from the email and felt disgusted. I felt angry. I felt betrayed. A jealousy burned inside me like a volcano about to erupt. Then, a quick grin climbed across my face.
In what world did I live in where it could be possible that Kinsley wasn’t with someone? A woman like her was never meant to walk the world alone. Not because she wasn’t capable, but because she was capable. Meaning she was the one taking care of someone else. She was too beautiful to be alone. She was too strong, brave, smart, kind, her heart so big and caring and always forgiving… if you looked up the word everything, there was a picture of Kinsley.
Plus, with that long hair of hers and subtle curves that stole my attention and breath, there wasn’t another person in this town, state, fucking world that could match up to her. Which meant there was only one of her… the only one meant for me.
There was another line in her email that proved something to me. Whether she meant to type it or not, it was there. And whether her meaning was true or not, I knew the truth.
I mean, I hope you are at least happy in your life. I know I am.
“I know I am,” I whispered as I nodded.
The ache of jealousy swirled inside me, but it began to gently ease up.
Kinsley could change her hair and change her clothes and change her career. That was all good. But her eyes, her heart, the trueness of her, that would never change. And one thing I always remembered was that she never believed in admitting she was happy. Or saying that she was happy. Because if you were really happy, then you’d just show it by being happy. She used to say it was like breathing. You don’t really tell someone you’re breathing. You just breathe because you have to and when you breathe, you stay alive, and that’s the proof in breathing. Yeah, it was long winded weird stuff she’d spout off, but I could still hear her voice getting so passionate about it.
All because one time I asked her if she was happy with me. And she looked at me and smiled. And the words she spoke were forever stuck in my mind.
“If you have to ask if I’m happy… I’m not happy. If I have to tell you I’m happy… I’m not happy. If you don’t have to question your love for me, then you shouldn’t have to question my happiness.”
That didn’t mean that what she wrote wasn’t like a razor blade to my heart, but it meant more than she maybe intended.
She wasn’t happy. She was just there. She was in a convenient spot to guard her heart.
But hearts weren’t meant for convenience or to be guarded… they were meant to risk it all, no matter what happened.
Milo dumped his entire soccer bag on the ground and kicked his water bottle as he kicked his ball onto the field. The kid was like a bolt of lightning. Zoom, and he was gone. Right out onto the field, chasing the ball, running in circles, doing everything he could to make a crazy kick into the goal.
I stood there, watching, a half smile on my face.
When Milo wasn’t occupied with soccer, he was focused on Halloween. Only a few more nights to go and it was the big night. He decided to be some kind of nasty looking ninja that turned into a zombie. All I knew was that it cost me fifty bucks for some pieces of rubber so he could get candy.
I wrote back to Kinsley, like she asked me to do. I offered one letter.
k
That was it.
I dug around for a little bit and found another picture to send to her. To her new email address. She made me smile with her cuteness, trying to convince me and herself of the reason why she created the new email. I knew exactly why she created it.
To keep from getting caught.
Which meant she felt guilty. And it meant she felt other things too.
A part of me felt like taking myself out back and kicking my own ass for what was happening here. I was not that kind of guy. Not the guy that stepped into a relationship with an axe, ready for a split. But this was different. This wasn’t just anyone. This was Kinsley. This was my Kins. My Kinsgirl. Nobody understood it. Nobody ever would. It wasn’t anyone else’s bullshit or business but my own and hers. And whoever this guy was that she was with right now, a part of me felt bad for him. He was nothing but a placeholder. From the day they met, that was his job, whether he knew it or not. Now, to be fair, this guy had one up on me because he had taken a piece of Kinsley’s heart. He shared a house with her. He shared a bed with her. Which meant… his hands… her skin… her desires…
“Try not to look so pissed off. It’s only for a few games.”
April stepped
up next to me with a cocky grin on her face.
“What?” I asked.
“You look ready to hurt someone right now.”
“Oh,” I said. I hurried to change my demeanor. “I’m good. This is fun.”
“You forgot your shirt,” she said with an even bigger grin.
I took the black shirt from her. Complete with a white collar and white ends at the short sleeves. A giant soccer ball was on the back and above that, it read COACH in big, white letters. On the front left breast was the logo for the local soccer club.
Yes, I was officially Coach Brice now. But only for the last two weeks of the season. Coach Brian’s wife wasn’t feeling all that great again and he had no choice but to step away. April graciously volunteered me and Milo sold it to the rest of the team. Apparently, I was the only dad that cared about soccer. And Milo thought it was fitting that since I was tall with tattoos, I should be a coach. I wasn’t sure how that connected, but he made a hell of an argument one night over pizza.
So, I put the soccer coach shirt on and stepped out onto the field, wearing roughed up jeans and black boots. I had no whistle, so I stuck my fingers into my mouth and whistled as loud as I could to get their attention. All I had to do was growl the words come here with my eyebrows crooked like a pissed off snake, and I had their attention.
I looked around at all their little faces, no damn idea what I was doing. I’d never played a second of soccer in my life. I never watched a second of soccer in my life either where I wasn’t just watching Milo. Casually, I looked across to the other fields and started stealing what the other coaches were doing.
I managed to keep their attention and I managed to keep them moving. Which was probably the whole point of being there. To burn off some energy and go home and crash for Mom and Dad.
When practice was over, I made them all circle around me.
I dropped to one knee and was smothered in little kid sweat that smelled like peanut butter and sugar.
“Great job,” I said. “You all did amazing. Those were good kicks. Those were, uh, good goals. You ran fast. You ran hard. You… whatever. You want to go home now?”
Everyone cheered loudly.
“Good,” I said. “Go home. I’ll see you for the game on Saturday. Let’s kick some… butt.”
Everyone giggled.
Better than what I was going to let slip out.
Practice was over, and I cleaned up all the soccer coach stuff. The mesh bag full of soccer balls and orange cones that I didn’t know what the hell to do with. I threw the bag over my shoulder as the fields cleared out. I stood there and stared way down the field to the spot where I saw Kinsley. The field was empty now. No sight of Kinsley… except for that one night. So many things could have happened that night. If that little girl hadn’t run up to Kinsley, I would have gone to talk to her. Now I was emailing her. She was emailing me. She was with someone. I was…
“Can we go home now?” Milo asked me.
“Yeah, sure, buddy,” I said. “Where’s your aunt?”
“Right here,” a voice said from behind me.
I turned, and April stood there, holding Milo’s soccer bag.
“Wait a second,” I said. “Milo. Carry your own bag.”
“It’s heavy,” Milo said.
“I don’t care. It’s your bag. It’s not your aunt’s job to carry it.”
“But…”
“Get the bag now,” I said in a stern voice.
Milo groaned and walked to April and took the bag from her.
“Go sit in the car,” she said and played with his hair. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Love you, buddy,” I said to Milo.
He glanced back at me with a pissed off look. I hurried to stick my pointer finger up my nose. He smiled.
The shit I’m doing for a kid that isn’t even mine…
“That was nice of you,” April said.
“Anything to make him smile,” I said.
“No. I meant the bag.”
“Oh. Well, if you let him walk all over you, he will.”
“I didn’t let him walk on me.”
“Well, you were carrying his bag.”
She rolled her eyes. “Right. Sorry. I don't know what I’m doing.”
“Jesus, April, I didn’t say that. I’m just trying to help.”
“I can see that,” she said. “That shirt looks nice on you.”
“Anything else you want to say?” I asked.
“That zombie costume is really graphic.”
“It’s a freaking costume,” I said. “What did you want him to dress up as?”
“I don’t know. He’s got a thing for school on Friday and I hope he doesn’t get in trouble.”
“Tell you what, if he gets in trouble for dressing up like a zombie, have the school call me. I’ll handle it.”
“Oh, you’ll know what to do?”
I dropped the mesh bag to the ground. “Look, if I did something to piss you off, just spit it out. Because this cheap shot attitude isn’t going to work on me.”
April let out a sigh. “I heard from her today.”
“Excuse me?”
“June. She called.”
I felt my throat close up for a second. I looked to my right and saw Milo’s face lit up by whatever video game he was playing as he sat in the back seat of April’s car.
“How is she?” I asked.
“She’s June. Same as always.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning… I don’t know, okay? She’s doing okay, I guess. That’s what she said to me. You know her. She’s short answered. Dry. Mad about everything still.”
I growled under my breath. “Right. Well, at least you heard from her. At least she’s still there. Maybe this is it for her. The chance she had been begging for.”
“Yeah, that loud cry, huh?”
“Don’t push it onto me, April. I’m doing everything I can right now as it is. If you don’t want her to call you…”
“What? You’re going to take the call? I thought that was part of all this. She doesn’t talk to you for a little while. Remember?”
“Yeah, I fucking remember,” I said. “Believe me, I remember.”
“She asked about you.”
“Of course she did.”
“Do you want to know what I said?”
“Actually, I don’t,” I said. “She’s alive. She’s doing her thing. That’s all I need to know.”
I reached for the mesh bag and stood to find April inches from me, her hand touching my arm.
“It’s okay to love her and be hurt,” she said. “I know how it feels, Brice. She’s the complete opposite of me and my life. How do you think it feels to be me?”
“Right now, the only thing that matters is Milo,” I said. “Everything else takes a back seat.”
“Even your feelings?” April asked.
“You don’t get to worry about my feelings. That’s not your job.”
She backed off. “Right. Well, I just thought you would want to know that she called.”
“Thanks for telling me,” I said. “I appreciate it.”
“This isn’t going to last forever, Brice,” April said. “You know that, right?”
“Nothing lasts forever,” I said. “Not even life.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“I have to get going,” I said. “I have some things to take care of. Unless you need help with Milo.”
“No, we’re good. He’s going to take a quick shower and go straight to bed.”
“Okay. If anything changes, let me know.”
“Will do. Thanks for doing the coach thing here.”
“Sure. That other guy is having a rough go of it. Thought his wife was feeling better, but I guess not.”
“Not even life lasts forever,” April said, mocking me.
I nodded. But I certainly did not smile.
I walked to the car and knocked on the back window. Milo loo
ked at me. I gave a thumbs up and he smiled big and did the same.
I sat in my truck alone for a little while after April drove away. My eyes kept going to the field where I saw Kinsley.
On a whim, I pulled up the email I sent to her earlier. I included a picture of us from Halloween a long time ago. We rented costumes and the guy screwed up the order. We went as a nurse and a football player, except the sizes were mixed up. So I was dressed as the nurse and Kinsley dressed as the football player. It was a complete mismatch, but it worked. The sleeves of her costume were packed with stuffing to shape out the muscles. And I wore a tight, white cliché nurses outfit. We were the laugh of the Halloween party. And that night, Kinsley joked about taking the costume off me as we jumped into bed.
I had no idea what Kinsley was doing right then. If she had read the email. If she was working late. If she was having dinner with her whatever he was. Or maybe they were together. In the shower… on the couch… in bed…
The jealousy hit me again, hard.
My fingers suddenly went to work.
Hey Kins,
Just wondering if you’re around right now. I have a little bit of free time to chat. Email. Phone. Meet up for a quick drink or something.
I sent the email with an unwanted sense of desperation in my heart. The last thing I really needed to hear about was Milo’s mother. The situation with her had gotten to a boiling point that now had me trying to make things up by helping with Milo.
Then again, maybe all of that was just a welcomed distraction. Only it didn’t work. The sight of Kinsley changed everything. Her writing back to me changed it even more.
So, I sat there in my truck, refreshing the email over and over, hoping she would respond. I pictured her sitting in a chair, smoking a cigarette, smiling at my email, thinking of the perfect response. It hit me then that I hadn’t given her my cell number yet. I opened another reply to her email but paused.