“I’m not a mouse, and that’s what I need to make him understand.”
She nods. “Then get persuasive. Fight him if you must, but do it in your laciest thong.” She grabs our cups. “I’m going to rinse these and take off.”
I stand. “I’ll leave with you.”
I set the alarm, and it starts to beep as we head toward the door.
“You could take a day off, you know,” she adds, “we can cover things here.”
“I just did yesterday, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Marissa chatters on about her Halloween plans as I lock up, spotting the two ravens in the sedan parked a few stores down. I lift my chin in both greeting and thanks as Marissa and I step off the curb and she rounds her SUV.
“—I didn’t think I’d see him again after that day, but he’s got potential. I don’t know, we’ll see.”
She opens her car door, and her chatter ceases. “My God, woman, it’s like talking to a wall.”
I wince and look over at her. “Sorry. I’m just…”
“Distracted. It’s okay, girl,” she offers patiently, adding a wink of support. “See you tomorrow, boss.” She starts her Jeep and backs away, just as a mother of two steps out of the minimart a few doors down, passing out two freshly purchased orange pumpkin containers from a plastic bag to two eager costumed Minions. She catches me on the sidewalk noticing them, and smiles, and I wave before she sets to work securing them in the back of her SUV. I imagine her life is similar to Christy’s in the family dynamic, and can clearly see their night playing out. A rushed dinner, followed by trick-or-treating, before wrestling their sugar high kids into pajamas and later collapsing in bed sharing a high five.
A normal life.
I could have had that. I had every chance to have normal. But with Tobias, normal will most likely never be part of the equation. And the truth is, I resented normal when I did have it, my whole-being rejected it. I wanted him, a life with him. And he’s here. He’s here because he wants me too, and the rest of it just doesn’t fucking matter.
Remorse courses through me as I picture the exit wound on Tobias’s back while he was showering.
“What are you doing, Cecelia?” I scold as tears threaten.
My heart cracks in understanding at the time I’ve already wasted, begrudging him for mistakes he’s already paid for ten times over. And he’s still punishing himself daily, his heart continually breaking. And instead of forgiving him and trying to put his pieces back together, I’m ripping the possibility of a second chance away from us. While he’s been fighting for what we had, I’ve been weighing him down with expectations.
Every minute counts, every second I’m with him is a gift, and I’m fucking wasting it.
“I remember everything, Cecelia. Every word you said, every look you gave me. Your three kinds of laughs, the details of your dreams, the way your nostrils flare when you’re starting to get pissed. The sting of your slaps, the salt in your tears, the fit of your breasts in my hand. The feel of your mouth, the taste of your pussy, so which part do you need me to remind you of?”
“Shit.” Eyes burning, throat tightening, I unlock my car, get behind the wheel, turn the ignition, and put it into gear before racing out of the parking lot toward my broken king.
Stepping into the house fifteen minutes later, my world is transformed when I see dozens of soft tealights flickering throughout the house. My ears perk up as I try to identify the filtering music—old, melodic, and slow.
Beau greets me with a lick on my hand, and I bend down to scratch his ears before racing through the living room, following the sound of light clatter in the kitchen. Stepping in, I’m met by the sight of Tobias cooking, his muscular forearms on display as he drizzles olive oil into a pan before turning his sunset eyes to me, his lips lifting in greeting. “Late day?”