by Harper Sloan
"Hate to break it to you, son, but you're going to be walking around like that until you can run back into the woman who started the problem."
"That's what I was worried you were going to say," I groan.
He's silent, but I know it's more about him weighing his words than not having anything to say.
"Care to fill me in a little? I might be your dad, but I could also be able to help even if it's uncomfortable as shit for both of us to be talking about your dick."
"I'm not really sure this conversation would get any easier if I filled you in a little more, old man."
Ignoring the pain in my crotch, I pull myself from the bed and grab a pair of sweats, carefully tucking my hard buddy in and walking to the kitchen to make a protein shake.
"Try me," he says.
"It's Ember."
This time, I know the silence is a lot more than weighing his words. "Ember as in Emberlyn Locke, Maddox Locke's baby girl?" he grumbles deeply through the line.
"One and the same," I respond, before taking a long swallow of my shake.
"Shit," he murmurs under his breath.
"Yeah ... that about sums it up. Oh, I think the kicker would be that Maddox is very aware of what is going on between Ember and me."
His humorless laugh comes first. "Of course, he does, Nate. There isn't much that has ever gotten past that man."
"He's going to kick my fucking ass," I tell him.
"Without a fucking doubt," he confirms. "How's that help your problem?" he adds with a laugh.
"Not even slightly better."
He laughs even harder, and I just roll my eyes, grabbing a banana and taking half down with one bite.
"Ignore your dick, Nate," he says after a minute of solid belly laughs. "Ignore that shit no matter what until you know what you want to do when it comes to Ember. If you don't intend to start something solid with her, well ... then your dick should be the last thing that you give attention to."
"I don't think it matters what I want with Ember," I complain.
"And that would be why?"
"Because I fucked up when I thought I was doing the right thing. I fucked up even more a while ago without even realizing it, and I'm not sure which one was worse, but I'm pretty sure them both together means my wants pertaining to Ember mean jack shit."
"Tell me," he says with seriousness. "When you fucked up the first time, did you do it to protect her or because you would rather be a little punk?"
"Nice," I grunt, finishing my second banana. "I pushed her away because not only was she way too fucking young, but also because I wasn't ready to see what was right in front of my face."
"And now?"
"And now, I'm not just ready to see it, I want it more than I want my next fucking breath."
"Well, son, if you ask me, I think you have everything you need to know right there. We're men, we're going to fuck up, but the beauty of finding that one woman meant for you is that no matter how much you fuck up, she will always be there to help make it right. So it's up to you to do what you can in order to right the wrong turns you made and then spend the rest of your days doing everything in your power to only make right turns."
"What the hell does that mean?"
He laughs some more. Fucking asshole. "Let me make it simple for you. Find out what you want from Ember. Look in your future, picture her completely out of it, and ask yourself if you can live with that. If not, work your ass off to prove to her that no matter how badly you fucked up, you'll do anything to make it up to her."
"Easier said than done."
"It's pretty fucking easy when all a good woman ever really wants is the unconditional love of her man."
I stare blindly out my front window, looking into the woods that surround my property while rolling his words around in my head. "Her dad is going to kill me."
"Nah, he knows that would hurt his girl too much. He'll make sure he doesn't leave any marks that can't be covered up."
"Not helping," I grind out through clenched teeth.
"Learned my lessons a long time ago, Nate. Lessons that hurt with so much vicious pain that sometimes I still feel the tug of them. But one thing I will never take for granted is that love, true love, is always worth fighting for even if you're fighting the one person who holds the key to taking all that pain away because, in the end, love conquers all, Nate."
"No one said anything about love, old man," I respond without conviction because it would just be a lie. I've loved that girl since I lied to her face and broke her heart.
"You didn't have to," he softly says. "I'm here if you need me, son. It won't be easy, but don't give up until you've won."
"Never," I say, this time having no trouble with the conviction in my tone.
I hear the call disconnect and I drop my phone down before collapsing on the couch with a deep sigh. With one more sad look toward my crotch and tented sweats, I start to plan.
MADDI HASN'T STOPPED SMILING AT me since she called my mom and asked her to come to my house and bring lunch for us. Nikki, sensing this moment should be between a mom and her daughters, left shortly after that call.
While waiting for her to show up, I busy myself in the bathroom to brush my teeth again and go about freshening up in the attempt to feel just a little more human before I bared my soul for not just my sister, but my mother as well.
Hell, it could be worse ... it could be my father too.
"Sweetie?" my mom calls into my bedroom with a soft knock on the door.
"Come on in, Mom," I respond with a smile that only grows when she pops her blond head through the crack in my door.
You would never guess that she's in her mid-fifties. My mom still doesn't even look a day over forty, if that. Her blond hair doesn't hold a single gray, and her freckled skin is wrinkle free. She's the most beautiful woman I know.
"You okay?" she asks, walking into the room and shutting the door. I'm silently thankful for the privacy, something she clearly sees judging by her next words. "I sent your sister home, honey. Now, give me all your worries and let me make them better."
A sob bubbles up before I can stop it, and I step into my mom's arms. She holds me while I get it out, maneuvering us until she is leaning against my headboard and she has her loving arms wrapped around me.
Sometimes, no matter how old you are, the only thing that makes you feel like you can manage all the things spinning around you helplessly is to have your mother's arms wrapped around you.
"Is this about Levi?" she hedges.
"No ... yes. God, I have no idea how to even answer that."
"Well," she says and pulls back to look into my eyes. Her light brown eyes full of love and understanding. "Give me everything and we can pick it apart and figure out what needs to happen next."
"Directions ... I need directions," I mumble through my sniffles.
Her blond brows pull in slightly and a small frown hits her lips. "Directions to what, baby?"
"How to follow my heart." I hiccup.
Her frown disappears instantly replaced with a wide smile. "Then directions we'll find."
I drop back into her arms and give her everything, not leaving a single detail of it out, and when I finish, I don't feel any less confused.
"Oh, my sweet girl. You always, even when you were a tiny baby, overthink any and every challenge placed in front of you. That is something I'm afraid you came by honestly. Your father was the same way. Overthought everything and let his fears and insecurities overrule what his heart was screaming."
I lift up and move to cross my legs, facing my mom as she mirrors my position.
"What changed?" I ask, searching her eyes, having a hard time picturing the strong and confident man I know like that.
"Your father did." She laughs. "Well, I think it might have been a little of my stubborn will mixed with his and his steadfast determination mixed with both our fears and endless love, but in the end, it was the same result."
"I'm not sure I follow," I
return.
She laughs again, the sound like little bells ringing, and my heart lightens some.
"You know that your dad and I didn't have an easy start. I was insecure and feared many things because of the way I was raised. Your father, well, he had many similar feelings, but also had some stupid, misguided beliefs that I was too good for him and he would ruin me. Silly man."
I gasp, thinking about just how similar that sounds to Nate's and my situation. "And ... what changed?" I ask again.
"He woke up. I didn't give up. He didn't give up. A lot of the same, but it was just our love being too big to ever ignore."
I look down at my nails, picking at my polish, but I don't speak.
"And a lot of sass," she continues.
I throw back my head and laugh, feeling lighter.
"So this isn't about Levi, exactly, but more about you and Nate?"
I nod, still not looking up.
"Sweetheart, look at your mama."
Instantly, I give her my eyes. She's still smiling. "Nate's a good boy. He has a huge heart and isn't afraid to laugh. He's one of those live big and live loud people. I've watched him grow up from a baby into the man he is today, so I can say with certainty that he is a man worthy of your love. But I can also see how Nate, being the man he is, took the youthful, innocent love of a just turned eighteen-year-old young lady and panicked. His age difference doesn't seem like a big deal right now when you're both in your twenties, but then, that difference was a bigger deal to a lot of people."
"He said he would ruin me."
"Baby." She sighs. "Nate's seen a lot of bad things happen to people who loved each other completely. He might have been young, but he was still around while each and every one of your father's friends fell and fought for their love. He's seen his sister go through terrible things for love. Watched Lee and Megan fight for what they have. If I had to guess, that boy is afraid of what could happen if he was to give in to what his heart is saying."
I frown and think about what she's saying. It makes sense. No one in our 'family' has had an easy go at falling in love, but they all took on that beautiful war and won.
"So what do I do now? How am I supposed to listen to my heart when it's been broken to bits by the one and only man who holds the power to fix it."
"That depends. He hurt you, and I understand it, baby, I do, but in order for you to follow your heart, you have to forgive him. You just said it yourself; he's the only man who holds the power to fix the hurt."
"And what if this is just a game to him? What if I am just some conquest?"
She reaches out and takes one of my fidgeting hands in her own, rubbing my knuckle with her soft thumb.
"Make him prove to you that isn't the case. Open your heart, cracks and all, and give him a chance to validate what you feel. Don't give up on him, even when it hurts, because you could be throwing away something truly beautiful."
"God, that's terrifying."
"That's because love is never easy, sweetheart. But it's worth every single bump, scratch, and crack in the end. Now, sit back here and tell your mama all about this lollipop dance."
I toss my head back and laugh.
By the end of our chat, my heart feels a little less heavy, and I know that I need to give Nate a chance. If anything, we need to sit down and talk.
But first things first--I need to break things off officially with Levi. There is no way, even if I hadn't been thinking and working toward this moment for weeks, that I would feel good about waiting another day when it is clear we have no future.
After the heavy conversation in my bed, I pulled my mom to the kitchen and settled in to catch up with her over the lunch she had brought.
Chicken salad sandwiches, my favorite.
The rest of our early afternoon time is spent with her curled up on the couch in my studio, watching me get lost in the heartbreaking canvas I had started the day before. I was so tuned in to what I was doing that I had completely forgotten she was still there until her soft voice broke through my tunnel vision.
"Okay, sweetie, give me a hug. It makes me feel good to see that dark cloud hanging over your head starting to clear away. Promise me that the next time you need me, you'll pick up the phone?"
I don't hesitate to wrap my arms around her and agree.
"I love you, Mama."
"I love you, my sweet Ember."
MY PHONE HAS BEEN GOING off for the last few hours, annoying, but easily something I can tune out when I've hit that sweet spot in my painting. I hit that magic spot while my mom was still here, and I haven't stopped since, even with the lingering hangover that still haunts my body.
More often than not, when I've hit that spot, not a single thing can tear my focus away. Everything is falling together like magic and the once blank canvas is now beginning to look exactly how I envisioned.
I was right yesterday when I thought this might be my best piece yet.
So much haunting beauty in this large glory.
Heartbreakingly sad, but alight with a hopefulness for something 'more' swirling between the brushstrokes.
Today, I had concentrated on the two outstretched arms meeting in the center of the canvas as the focus. Each finger on the opposing hand extended, trying desperately to reach the other, but never getting close enough. Being as close as I am to the piece now, I can see the outline of the man and woman starting to take shape beyond those two hands.
When I'm finished, the abstract piece will be more blur and fade around the edges, the two bodies becoming clearer the closer you get to those two perfectly painted and in focus hands.
This is me.
This is Nate.
It's us.
So much beauty and pain in one huge piece that I can't help but think it is eventually my soul stripped bare and splattered against the canvas.
"A Beautiful War," I declare to myself with a smile, knowing instantly that the title for my piece has been born.
Bam bumps my leg, and I look down, smile still in place. "What's wrong, handsome man?"
He whines before moving to the door of my house. With a laugh, I clean off my brush and close the tops of my paint before moving around my easel.
"Come on, beast." I snicker when he starts to wag his tail in excitement.
When I push open the door that leads into my kitchen from my studio, he rushes through the house and I hear him barking at the front.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," I complain, almost tripping over the chew toys that he had strewn all over the kitchen floor. "You're worse than a child, Bam," I chide with a chuckle, picking up the few toys on my way to the living room.
I can hear him whining as I turn the corner into the living room from the small hallway and come to an abrupt halt when I see the imposing figure sitting in the middle of my couch. His arms are over the back in a relaxed manner, but his face betrays him. I can tell by the tick in his jaw that the calm he is portraying is a mask, but why he's looking at me with eyes cold and calculating is beyond me.
"Ember," he drawls, his deep voice thick, the way it always is when he's angry.
"Levi, hey ... I thought you were going to call me later tonight?"
He doesn't speak, but I watch his jaw clench now as his lips thin. The unease that I had felt when walking in the room grows to a burning ball of anxiety in my gut.
"How was work?" I hedge nervously.
"Fine."
"Would you like something to drink?" I continue, moving to settle in on the loveseat opposite from him.
He leans forward, dropping his arms from the back of the couch and placing his elbows on his knees, never dropping his eyes from mine. "No."
"Okay." I gulp, not understanding his mood today. Hell, I haven't seen him since the other night, and even though we didn't leave on good terms, the brief texts that we've had since haven't given me a clue to why this is happening now.
Unless he knows you're about to break it off.
I ignore the inner voice and will my hand
s not to start fidgeting as I shift in my seat.
"How was your party?" he questions, deadly calm as he continues to leer at me.
"Good," I respond. "Well, good until I figured out that the hangovers are never worth the buzz," I clarify in an attempt to lighten the mood.
"That's nice. I didn't hear from you after you told me you would be going to that new club in town," he accuses.
Losing the battle with my nervous fidgeting, I twist my fingers together in my lap. His eyes cast a quick glance at them before they flit back to my face. "Yeah, sorry about that. After the girls got here, things just kind of went crazy. They had me busy from the second they opened the pizza boxes until I got home last night."
"Hmm," he remarks.
"Anyway, how was your night?"
"Interesting," he discloses ominously.
"Did you have a lot of call outs?" I ask, trying to ease the alarm I feel over his calm anger.
"Not really. Just one."
"Are you okay?"
He studies me for the longest breath before leaning back with one side of his mouth tipped up. Instead of looking like a smile, it only makes his face look like an evil sneer.
"Levi?" I coax when he doesn't speak.
"Tell me, Ember," he starts. "Would you think for one second that I would be okay with my fucking woman dressed like a slut while some man had his hands on her?"
"What?" I gasp in shock. I don't take my eyes off him, but I have a bad feeling things are about to get ugly.
"Did you fuck him?"
"Levi! No, of course not. You know I'm not that type of girl." Except, I'm not really sure what would have happened if rational thought hadn't returned after the touch of Nate's lips to mine last night. If I'm honest with myself, we were, in fact, seconds away from becoming a tangle of naked flesh.
"I'm not sure I believe you, Ember. Imagine my shock when we get a call to come check on that new fucking club because of the crowd size, and I walk in to see my girlfriend in the middle of some weird bar lap dance. I have two goddamn eyes, and I would be a fool not to believe what was right in front of my face."
Shit.
Damn.
Well, this wasn't exactly how I had pictured this going, but I might as well get it over with. Rip off the Band-Aid and finally make the long overdue move to end things between us.
"Nothing like that happened, Levi. I'm sure that Nate was just putting on a show because he knows the girls would think it was hilarious to embarrass me."
