Miles begins to shake his head as soon as a smile appears on his face.
Corbin starts to laugh, but he groans at the same time, indicating that he just came to terms with our arrangement, even though he still may not agree with it.
I smile and walk quietly out of the apartment, hoping they’re about to mend whatever was broken between them when I stepped into the picture.
The elevator doors open on the lobby level, and I’m prepared to step off, but Cap is poised in front of them as if he’s about to step on.
“You coming for me?” he asks.
I nod and point upward. “Corbin and Miles are working things out upstairs. I was giving them a minute.”
Cap steps into the elevator and presses the button for the twentieth floor. “Well, I suppose you can walk me home,” he says. He grabs the bars behind him for support. I stand next to him and lean against the wall behind me.
“Can I ask you a question, Cap?”
He gives me the all clear with a nod. “I love being asked them as much as I love asking them.”
I look down at my shoes, crossing one foot over the other. “What do you think would make a man never want to experience love again?”
Cap doesn’t answer my question for at least five floors. I eventually look at him, and he’s looking right at me, his eyes narrowed, producing even more wrinkles between them. “I suppose if a man lived through the ugliest side of love, he might never want to experience it again.”
I contemplate his answer, but it doesn’t help much. I don’t see how love could get ugly enough for a person to just shut himself off from it completely.
The elevator doors open to the twentieth floor, and I let him step off first. I walk with him to his apartment door and wait for him to open it. “Tate,” he says. He’s facing his door, and he doesn’t turn around to finish his sentence. “Sometimes a man’s spirit just ain’t strong enough to withstand the ghosts from his past.” He opens his apartment door and walks inside. “Maybe that boy just lost his spirit somewhere along the way.” He closes his door and leaves me attempting to decipher even more confusion.
chapter twenty-six
MILES
Six years earlier
My room is Rachel’s now. Rachel’s room is my room.
We graduated. We moved in together. We’re in college now.
See? We’ve got this.
Ian brings in the last of the boxes from the car. “Where do you want this one?” he asks.
“What is it?” Rachel asks him.
He tells her it looks like a box full of her bras and underwear. She laughs and tells him to set it next to my dresser. Ian does.
Ian likes Rachel. Ian likes that she’s not holding me back. Ian likes that she wants me to get my degree and finish flight school.
Rachel wants me to be happy. I tell Rachel I’ll be happy as long as I have her.
She tells me, “Then you’ll always be happy.”
My dad still hates me. My dad doesn’t want to hate me. They’re trying to accept it, but it’s hard. It’s hard for everyone.
Rachel doesn’t care what everyone thinks. She only cares what I think, and I only think about Rachel.
I’m learning that no matter how difficult a situation is, people learn how to adapt to it. My dad and her mom may not approve, but they’ll adapt.
Rachel may not be ready to be a mom, and I may not be ready to be a dad, but we’re adapting.
It’s what has to happen. If people want peace within themselves, it’s necessary.
Vital, even.
???
“Miles.”
I love my name when it comes out of her mouth. She doesn’t waste it. She only says it when she needs something. She only says it when it needs to be said.
“Miles.”
She said it twice.
She must really need something.
I roll over, and she’s sitting up in bed. She looks at me, wide-eyed.
“Miles.” Three times. “Miles.” Four. “It hurts.”
Shit.
I jump out of bed and grab our bag. I help Rachel change clothes. I help her to the car.
She’s scared.
I might be more scared than she is.
I hold her hand while we drive. I tell her to breathe. I don’t know why I tell her this. Of course, she knows to breathe.
I don’t know what else to tell her.
I feel helpless.
Maybe she wants her mom.
“Do you want me to call them?”
She shakes her head. “Not yet,” she says. “After.”
She just wants it to be us. I like this. I just want it to be us, too.
A nurse helps her out of the car. They take us to a room. I get Rachel whatever she needs.
“Do you need ice?”
I get it for her.
“Do you want a cold rag?”
I get it for her.
“Do you want me to turn off the TV?”
I turn it off.
“Do you want another blanket, Rachel? You look cold.”
I don’t get her a blanket. She’s not cold.
“Do you want more ice?”
She doesn’t want more ice.
She wants me to shut up.
I shut up.
“Give me your hand, Miles.”
I give it to her.
I want it back.
She’s hurting it.
I let her keep it anyway.
She’s quiet. She never makes a sound. She just breathes. She’s incredible.
I’m crying. I don’t know why.
I love you so goddamn much, Rachel.
The doctor tells her she’s almost done. I kiss her on the forehead.
It happens.
I’m a dad.
She’s a mom.
“It’s a boy,” the doctor says.
She’s holding him. She’s holding my heart.
He stops crying. He tries to open his eyes.
Rachel cries.
Rachel laughs.
Rachel tells me thank you.
Rachel tells me thank you. Like she wasn’t the one who created this.
Rachel is crazy.
“I love him so much, Miles,” she says. She’s still crying. “I love him so, so much.”
“I love him, too,” I tell her. I touch him. I want to hold him, but I want her to hold him even more. She looks beautiful holding him.
Rachel looks up at me. “Will you please tell me his name now?”
I was hoping he would be a boy so I could have this moment. I was hoping I could tell her what her son’s name is, because I know she’ll love it.
I hope she remembers the moment
she
became
my
everything.
Miles is going to show you the way to Mr. Clayton’s class, Rachel.
“His name is Clayton.”
She begins to sob.
She remembers.
“It’s perfect,” she says, her words mixed with tears.
She’s crying too hard now. She wants me to hold him.
I sit on the bed with her and take him.
I’m holding him.
I’m holding my son.
Rachel rests her head on my arm, and we stare at him.
We stare at him for so long. I tell Rachel he has her red hair. Rachel says he has my lips. I tell Rachel I hope he has her personality. She disagrees and says she hopes he’s just like me.
“He makes life so much better,” she says.
“He sure does.”
“We’re so lucky, Miles.”
“We sure are.”
Rachel squeezes my hand.