Epic Sins (Epic Fail #1)(52)

Kai finishes his bottle and I’ve burped him one last time. He’s sound asleep, so I place him in his bouncy seat and strap him in. Garrett’s hand brushes mine as he covers Kai with the soft fleece blanket that was on the chair. I pull away and stand up.

“You okay?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I know you keep telling me that it’s going to get better. Easier. But every single time I see him like this I don’t believe you. His pain needs to end. He can’t continue to live like this.”

I grab hold of his hand and squeeze. “It will end. I promise.” His eyes glisten and he bows his head.

He lets go of my hand, and I follow him into the kitchen. I dim the lights so they don’t disturb Kai’s slumber.

“Time to make pizza,” I say.

“Yeah,” he says.

I turn on the oven and place the pizza stone inside. “Look,” I say, pointing to the dough in the bowl. “The yeast did its job.” The dough has expanded, almost tripled in size.

“You seem so calm, Sam. How are you not affected by what just happened in there?” he asks, his face pained.

“It’s not easy, but I know soon his pain will be a thing of the past. Every time I lay my hands on him or hold him against me, I know that I’m doing something to help his suffering.” I pause and his eyes lock onto mine, still searching for answers. “Every day is one more day that he doesn’t have drugs coursing through his veins. The pain becomes lessened over time, and as that happens, these episodes will also begin to diminish.”

He nods and I continue, “If you remember when he first came home, he would cry like that for hours on end. There were days that went by that I swear he cried for twenty-three out of twenty-four hours. Garrett, it was really bad.” I motion toward the den. “What just happened in there was a vast improvement. And it’s only the second time today. Progress.”

He exhales but still looks drawn and worried. I desperately want to comfort him, but I know I can’t. I’m his employee. Kai’s nurse.

“Now, let’s make pizza,” I say and remove the dough from the bowl.

“Thank you,” he says weakly and touches my cheek, dropping his hand to my shoulder. “I think I believe you.”

“You have to believe, Garrett. Otherwise, you have nothing.”

Light flickers in his eyes and he quickly turns away. “I’m starving,” he says.

“Then let’s do this,” I say as I begin to roll the dough out on the counter.

We prepare the pizza together in silence. I can tell he’s lost in thought and in pain. I can’t imagine what’s going through his mind every time he sees his little boy. I know I’ve gone through fits of anger when I watch Kai suffer. How can someone knowingly do this to a child? Sadie made terrible choices. Choices that Kai is now paying for.

“You look mad,” he says, breaking our silence. We’re both seated at the kitchen island, watching the pizza cook in the oven.

I sigh. “No, just thinking.”

“About?” he urges.

“I’m trying to understand what would make someone do this to a child. I think about it every time I hold and comfort Kai. He did nothing to deserve the pain that he’s living with every day. I do feel anger, but I also pity her.”

He clenches his fists and I tense, waiting for him to take a swing at something. He tries to regulate his breathing, and I know he’s doing everything to remain calm. “I don’t want to talk about her,” he says.

The oven timer goes off, and I jump to my feet. I grab two oven mitts and remove the stone, placing it on top of the stove. “This needs to cool off a little,” I say and turn to him.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to jump down your throat. It’s just… I can’t feel anything for Sadie but contempt and anger. So let’s just leave it alone, okay?”

I nod. “When you’re ready to put aside your anger, you’ll be surprised what your heart will find.” He looks at me, surprised. “Your son is a gift.”

He drops his shoulders and inhales deeply. “You’re right.”

“Still hungry?” I ask and grab the pizza cutter from the drawer. He nods quickly and I serve the first few slices. Before I know it, the entire pizza is gone and both of our plates are empty. The air is lighter between us, and I’m thankful he’s relaxed a bit.

“I’ve never seen a girl eat that much pizza,” he jokes and pushes his plate away from him.

I blush and wipe my mouth with a napkin. “I love pizza.”

“We should do this more,” he says.

“Yeah?” I ask. “You mean you’re going to help cook? I think my aunt will want to know about this.”

He’s unmoved by my teasing and declares, “Every Thursday is now pizza night. And next week, you’ll have to show me how to make the dough.” He looks around the kitchen and I notice there’s flour everywhere. “You’re not exactly a neat cook.” He smirks.

“No, I’m not. But you have to admit, that was damn good pizza,” I say, very proud of myself.

“It was amazing.”

I like that we’ve connected tonight. I feel like I can help him open up more and become confident in his abilities to care for his son, even if he carries such anger and resentment toward Sadie. I know I can help him.