Messy Love(46)

“Believe me, you’re not going to stay any longer,’’ she retorted, eyes narrowed and voice even. She stepped away from me and turned around to go back to the elevator. As soon as she pressed the button, it opened, and she hurried inside.

I watched her until the elevator closed its door and took her away from me and out of my life. I watched because it was impossible not to. I watched because in spite of myself, in spite of what anybody’s common sense yelled, I was mesmerized by her and shook up by what she was able to conjure up inside me.

And then, I went back to my apartment and grabbed the first thing I could find and threw it across the living room until it hit the opposite wall and shattered. I just destroyed a crooked pot Ava made at her first pottery lesson.

I fell to my ass, pulled my legs up and put my head on my thighs, breathing louder and louder as my whole body started to shake. I shook with self-loathing, with anger, with pain. Mostly, I shook with a pain I had never been able to shake off.

I destroyed everything.





WYATT


“Son,’’ Danny Burton, my adoptive father and the only one who deserved to be called Dad, beckoned me, drawing my attention back to the present. I kept on daydreaming while looking at an old baseball in my gloved hand.

I looked up and found my father waiting expectantly with his gloved hand ready to receive the baseball.

It was our thing. Neither of us was huge baseball fans since we preferred football and basketball, but whenever we had a family lunch for as far as I could remember since I had met him, we would end up throwing the ball while talking about some things. It was nice, but right now I wasn’t feeling it.

“Sorry,’’ I mumbled and threw the ball without much conviction. It sailed way above him and rolled into one of my mom’s flower bed. I cringed. “Shit.’’

My father took off his glove and shook his head, a smile on his face as he glanced back at me after eyeing the flower bed with reluctance. “You know what? I don’t feel like getting my ass kicked by your mother. If she sees us traipsing in her flowers, she’s going to ring our ears.’’

“She’ll see the ball tonight when she waters the flowers,’’ I pointed out and gave him my glove.

“I’ll get it before then. Let’s have a seat.’’ He led me to the outdoor table and chairs and put down the gloves on the table. As he leaned back, he exhaled loudly.

“You look tired, Dad.’’

He chuckled and rubbed his eyes. The circles under them would have been worrying if I hadn’t seen them whenever he was on a case at work that demanded long hours and called for a lot of stress. Being a cop was nothing like what was shown on most TV series as he pointed out frequently whenever he talked about his job.

“I had a long day yesterday. We closed a case around midnight, in the nick of time before the man’s custody was over. Then we had all the paperwork to fill.’’ He yawned and waved it off. “I’m not getting any younger, and I can’t pull off late nights like I used to.’’

Ava’s laughter rang from somewhere inside the house and Mom’s voice accompanied the happy sound that chased away some of the dark fog surrounding me.

“I told myself I wouldn’t ask you, but…’’ Dad said and scratched at his skull where his short hair freshly cut showed more and more gray than the light brown he used to have.

“What is it?’’

“I’m worried about your mother.’’

“What’s wrong?’’ Fear clogged at me instantly.

“Maybe I’m way over my head, but she’s a lot more subdued since… well, since…’’ he trailed off, looking for his words apparently and it didn’t take a genius what brought that change in Mom.

Fists tightly closed I answered. “Since Marissa Thornton came here.’’

He nodded and sighed again, glancing at the house before fixing me with his clear blue eyes that had been a steady fixture in my life ever since I was thirteen years old. “I’m sure it’s a difficult subject for you too and—''

“It’s okay, just tell me what’s wrong with Mom.’’

“She looks sad, and I think she’s worried she won’t hear from her again. She doesn’t talk to me, son.’’

Once again, his eyes went to the house. I hadn’t seen him quite like this since his father, my grandfather who gave me his apartment in inheritance, passed away a couple of years ago.

“What do you want me to do?’’

“Ah,’’ he sighed and ran a hand over his scruff, something he rarely kept on since he always shaved closely, but whenever his work ran him hard he would spend a day or two without shaving. “I just want to make sure it went okay when she came to see Lydia. Lydia called me at work that day, and she was emotional. But you know your mom. She’s quick to keep things to herself when she doesn’t want others to judge.’’

“I know.’’ The memory of that first moment I had seen Marissa in front of the house hit me and the way that had made me feel. It was still as fresh as yesterday, mostly because I was stuck in a loop where she was concerned. “I wasn’t in the same room the whole time, but it looked like it went okay.’’

“Lydia mentioned that Marissa hit it off with Ralph. Do you think he’s been in contact with her?’’