Crossing the Lines

by S. J. Hooks

  “Thank you,” I tell him.

  “No problem,” he replies with a smile. “So I thought I’d ask … would you like to go to dinner sometime?”

  “That’s really nice of you. But I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  His face falls a little. “Oh, you’re already seeing someone?”

  “Uh, yeah, I am.” It’s easier to lie than to explain that I’m in love with his boss.

  “Should’ve guessed,” he says. “But nothing ventured, right?”

  “Right.” I give him a smile, which I guess he takes as encouragement.

  “Do you want my number any—”

  “Andrew! I don’t pay you to socialize,” Simon barks from behind me. I startle, my heart jumping into my throat.

  “Yes, sir,” Andrew says. “Of course.” He helps Jo into her coat and slinks back behind his desk. I can feel Simon’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare turn around to face him. Jo’s gaze flickers to the space behind me, and she nods to him before taking my hand. I follow her as we walk out of the office, my heart still in my throat.

  “Holy fuck,” she whispers as we step into the elevator. “Talk about tense.”

  I let my chin drop to my chest, blowing out a deep breath. “You don’t know the half of it,” I murmur. We get out to the car and I hand Jo the envelope.

  “This is great,” she says. “It’s what you came for. We can start moving you in tomorrow!”

  So far, we’ve painted the place and moved in a couple of new pieces of furniture, like a pullout couch for the living room and a new TV. Maxwell and Garrett have been invaluable, helping me carry the heavy things and hanging up new light fixtures.

  “Tomorrow,” I say, trying for a smile. “Will you check where the storage space is?” I look up at the building for a second as I steer the car into the street. It’s surreal knowing that I’m never going to see him again.

  “Ice cream tonight sounds good,” I say, still waiting for a response. Jo is flipping through a small stack of papers in her lap, an intense look on her face. “Jo?”

  “Did you look at these?” she asks.

  “No. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she assures me quickly, “but you should probably pull over somewhere. You’re going to want to see this.”

  Sitting in a little café just down the street from Simon’s office, we pore over the papers while our coffees sit untouched at the edge of the table.

  “I can’t believe he did this,” I say for the third time.

  “I know. It looks like you just have to fill in a few things, and then sign the papers. The envelopes are even stamped and addressed.”

  Simon has prepared a petition for me to receive sole custody of Luke, citing Patrick’s abandonment as the reason. If they can’t find him to serve the papers, I think it means I win without a court case. There’s also a form to change Luke’s last name to Winters instead of Jones.

  “This is amazing,” I whisper. “Why would he do this, Jo? He must’ve done it after we moved out.”

  “He still cares about you,” she says softly. “I thought he was going to kill his assistant when he asked you out.”

  I bury my face in my hands. I know he still cares. I never doubted that he’d take care of me and Luke. “What should I do?”

  “I don’t know,” she replies, sighing. “I really don’t, Abbi.”

  “It would be so much easier if he were just a complete jerk, but he’s not.”

  “Yeah,” Jo says softly. “Do you want to head home?”

  I nod, and we leave it at that.

  “This is really nice of you, Abbi.”

  I smile at Garrett before turning back to my chopping board. “I don’t mind at all. I love cooking.”

  “Maxwell’s going to be so surprised when he gets home.”

  We’re downstairs in Maxwell and Garrett’s kitchen where I’m helping him cook dinner. Actually, I’m cooking and he’s drinking wine, keeping me entertained.

  “He does all of the cooking. I’m terrible.” Garrett continues. “I’m sure he thinks we’re just ordering in tonight since he had to work.”

  “I’m sure you’re not terrible,” I say diplomatically. “I could teach you.”

  “Nah. I’m really more of a trophy husband,” he says jokingly, lifting the wine bottle to pour another glass.

  “No more for me, please. Luke will be home soon.”

  “You and the little guy have big plans for tonight?”

  “Oh, yeah. Homemade pizza and The Little Mermaid. He let me pick it out for our date since it’s Valentine’s Day and all.”

  “Nice. You know, Max and I wouldn’t mind watching him sometime if you ever want to go out on a grown-up date some night.”

  “Thanks. I’m not really dating right now, though.”

  “Bad breakup?” He holds up his hand before I can answer. “Sorry, was that too personal? I know you’ve only just moved in, but I feel like we’re friends already.”

  I beam at him, touching my nearly empty glass to his. “I feel the same way. You and Maxwell have been so great.” I drink the rest of my wine without making a face. I’m getting used to the taste of it. I realize the only reason I’ve started having a glass now and again is because it reminds me of Simon’s kisses. If he smoked cigars, I’d probably try that too. I’m a glutton for punishment, obviously.

  “Yeah, bad breakup,” I tell him. “I’m not really over it.”

  “I’m sorry. That sucks. Was it Luke’s dad?”

  I shake my head. “No, he ran off over a year ago. I just sent in papers last week, filing for sole custody. Honestly, I hope they don’t find him so I can get this done quickly. Luke never even talks about him anymore.” I draw a breath. “I have horrible luck with men—well, romantically speaking, at least. I think I’m pretty lucky in the housemate department.”

  Garrett grins at me, stretching his arms above his head. “I should really grab a shower at some point. I stink.”

  “I wasn’t going to say it.” I tease him, looking over his admirable physique, which is on full display in his workout clothes. “Go. I’ll finish prepping this so you can throw it in the oven before Maxwell gets home.”

  “You’re the best,” he says, jumping off his stool.

  As I’m cleaning up, the doorbell rings. Luke isn’t due for another hour, depending on traffic between the school and here, but I open the door anyway, since Garrett is still in the bathroom. I blink in surprise when I see a familiar young man outside my door.

  “Andrew?”

  “Hello, Miss Winters.”

  “Hello. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m not here to ask you out again,” he says quickly. “I’m here on business. For Mr. Thorne.” He turns toward the driveway, and it’s only then that I notice the U-Haul truck parked there.

  “Um, what’s in there?” I ask.

  “It’s your furniture,” Andrew says.

  “I already got my furniture.” Jo, Thomas, and I took everything out of storage, and with the help of Garrett and Maxwell, it took no time at all to get everything moved in.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Garrett says behind me in his usual cheerful tone. “Oh, you got more to move in?”

  “No, it’s a mistake, I think.”

  “No mistake,” Andrew insists. “A queen and, uh, a kid’s bed that looks like a car, plus some other cartoon stuff?”

  “Oh,” I whisper, shell-shocked. “I see.”

  “Well, let’s get them in before we freeze to death,” Garrett says, clapping his hands together. “I’ll just grab my coat and shoes. Hang on.”

  I finally get my bearings. Part of me wants to say no, but I know Luke will be over the moon, getting it all back. “Look, uh, tell Mr. Thorne thank you for me. I’ll just take the race-car bed, please. And the kids’ stuff.”

  “You don’t want the queen?”

  “No, that’s okay. I already have a bed.”

  The one Simon got me is much more comfortable, but the pu
llout couch is practical so I can still have company over. Garrett and Andrew insist on carrying everything in themselves, leaving me feeling like a damsel in distress as I watch them quickly set everything up and carry out the cheap used bed I got for Luke, loading it into the U-Haul. Andrew says he’ll get rid of it for me, no problem.

  “Thank you,” I tell him. “My son will love this. Please, tell Mr. Thorne I really appreciate it, and also thank him for the paperwork. He’ll know what you mean.”

  “I will. Have a nice Valentine’s Day, Miss Winters.”

  “You too.”

  Thankfully, Garrett doesn’t ask where the things came from, and I spend the next hour setting everything up before Luke comes home. When I’m done, his room looks almost the same as the one he had at Simon’s house, which is both good and bad. He misses Simon, and whenever he asks for Mr. Thorne I feel guilty for have putting him in a situation where he could get hurt emotionally.

  While I wait by the window for Luke’s bus, I call my mom, wishing her a happy Valentine’s Day. I’ve been worried about how she would handle this day, but she sounds better than I expected and she’s looking forward to having me and Luke come up for the weekend tomorrow afternoon after both of us are done with school. I spot Luke’s bus and tell my mom goodbye before walking out to fetch him.

  “Hey, Mommy!” he yells, sprinting toward me, his schoolbag bouncing on his back with each step. “Look! Look what I’ve got for you.” He runs into my waiting arms, giving me a quick hug before pulling away and thrusting his little hand toward me.

  “Happy Valentime’s Day,” he says with a huge grin, handing me a card. I don’t correct him. His way sounds so much cuter.

  “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby. Is that really for me?”

  “Uh-huh. I made it myself!”

  “It’s so pretty. Did you draw that heart on the front?”

  He nods eagerly as I open it.

  “To Mommy from Luke. Happy Valentine’s Day,” I read out loud.

  “Ms. Daniel wrote that for me,” he says, “but I wrote my own name!”

  It’s easy to tell, but I act surprised anyway. “You did? That’s awesome! Thank you so much, honey. I love it. I’m gonna hang it on the fridge so that everyone who comes to visit will see it.”

  Luke beams at me.

  “Do you want to come inside and help me make the pizza dough for tonight?”

  He nods, grabbing my hand as we walk into our new home together.

  “And there’s a surprise for you in your room,” I add, not at all shocked when he lets go of my hand to run ahead of me.

  As I listen to his shrieks of excitement when I come up the stairs to our apartment, I smile. Simon has made my son very happy, giving him not only this beautiful furniture, but a great start to his schooling, and I’ll always be grateful for that, regardless of how we ended things between us.

  “Can we watch another one?” Luke asks, yawning as the credits for The Little Mermaid roll across the screen.

  “Sorry, buddy. We both have school tomorrow, so we should probably get ready for bed, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, okay. We’re still going to Nana’s after school, right?”

  “Yep. The whole weekend.”

  After I’ve read him a story and tucked him in, I convert the couch into a bed and curl up with one of the books for my Economics 101 course. I’ve just started the chapter on supply and demand when I hear the doorbell ringing downstairs. A few seconds later, the sounds of loud voices travel upstairs, followed by an insistent knocking on my door. I jump out of bed and run to it just as it opens, and two tall figures burst through.

  “You know this guy, Abbi?” Garrett asks, taking a protective stance.

  “Yes,” I whisper, staring at Simon, who looks agitated and disheveled as he tries to push past Garrett.

  “Hey, cool it, man,” Garrett says. “You asked to see her, and here she is. But I’m not leaving until she says it’s okay.”

  Simon’s lips curl into a sneer as the two of them size each other up.

  “Stop that,” I snap at him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Get rid of your boyfriend here, and I’ll tell you,” he says, never taking his eyes off my housemate.

  “Boyfriend?” Garrett laughs. “Abbi, do you want me to throw this idiot out of here?”

  “No. No, it’s okay. Go back downstairs. Maxwell will probably be home soon. I’ll handle this.” I send him what I hope is a reassuring smile. He throws Simon a warning look before retreating, leaving the door open.

  “What the hell?” I ask when Garrett is gone, shaking my head.

  Simon tugs at his jacket and runs his hands through his hair. “He’s not your boyfriend?” he asks, his eyes darting to mine. “My assistant said …”

  “No!” I grit my teeth. “But even if he were, it’s none of your business. You come bursting into my home like—Look, you need to leave. I can’t do—”

  “I want you back.”

  I inhale sharply, my stomach flipping like I’m in an elevator that’s suddenly dropped. I shake my head back and forth, walking backward away from him. “No. No, I can’t do this again. You can’t just barge in here and make demands like that. No. That’s not how it works.”

  “Abigail, I—” Out of nowhere he drops down on one knee, pulling a small blue box out of his coat pocket.

  Holy fuck.

  “I didn’t have a lot of time,” he says, lifting the now-open box up toward me. “We can get you another one. Any kind you want.”

  My eyes dart to the ring he’s holding, my mouth going dry at the size of the diamond. I know it’s real. If anyone else showed me a ring that big I’d think it was a fake, but not Simon. I feel as though the room is spinning.

  “Abigail, will you—”

  “Mr. Thorne?!” Luke’s excited voice is clear even through the door to his room.

  Oh, no!

  I barely have time to pull Simon up off the floor before my son comes out, looking lit up from the inside as he runs to Simon, throwing his arms around his legs.

  “Hi, Luke.” Simon runs his large hand over Luke’s rumpled hair. The sight of it makes my insides feel all jumbled and my throat raw.

  “Luke, you should be in bed,” I say as calmly as I can, noticing how Simon discreetly puts the ring box back in his pocket, my son none the wiser. “Big day tomorrow, remember?”

  “We’re going to visit my Nana for the whole weekend,” Luke announces. “And look, I made Mommy a card for Valentime’s Day.” He pulls Simon over to the fridge, showing off his card.

  “That’s very good.”

  “Did you get Mommy a card?” my son asks, tilting his head back to look up at him. “You’re s’posed to do that today. Or flowers.”

  “Oh, I didn’t think of that,” Simon says. “I’ll remember that for next time. I promise.”

  Luke’s smile is radiant, but my stomach feels as though it’s filled with acid.

  “Back to bed with you,” I tell him. “Say goodnight.”

  “Okay,” Luke grumbles. “Goodnight.” He makes a show of walking into his room at a glacial pace before closing the door just as slowly. He leaves it a few inches open, and I can still see him standing right there.

  “To bed,” I say firmly.

  The door finally closes all the way, and I drop my head into my hands for a few seconds. “You can’t say stuff like that to him.”

  “What do you mean?” Simon asks, approaching me slowly.

  “Promising him a next time,” I bite out. “That little boy has had enough disappointments to last him a lifetime. But no more. We’re in a good place, and things have just settled down. I can’t do this—” I gasp as his hands gently cup my cheeks.

  “Please. I know how badly I fucked up, Abigail. I know I hurt you.”

  His left hand still cradles my cheek as he moves his right down the length of my hair, settling on my waist. I stare hard at the buttons of his shirt, willing myself not to yield. Th
is is too sudden, too unexpected. What if he changes his mind?

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his breath tickling my forehead before his lips brush over the same spot. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I thought … I thought I could …”

  “Mommy, I’m thirsty!”

  I take a step back, running my hand across my face. “In a minute, Luke.” I turn to him again. “Look, Mr. Thorne—”

  “Simon,” he says immediately. “No more ‘Sir,’ no more ‘Mr. Thorne.’ Just Simon.”

  “Simon.” I look up at him, forcing myself not to get my hopes up. “I can’t marry you.”

  He winces, pain etching his features. “Am I too late? I don’t want to live without you. I thought this was what you wanted.”

  “Marriage? I just wanted you.”

  “Wanted? Not want?”

  I draw a deep breath. I do want him, but does he really know what he’s saying? “We don’t really know each other and getting married … this is all really crazy.” I shake my head, unable to stop myself from smiling a little. This whole situation is beyond bizarre.

  His lips twitch, his posture relaxing as the line between his eyes eases away. “I thought you had a new boyfriend. I wanted to steal you away from him.”

  “I don’t. Garrett is gay. He lives downstairs with his husband.”

  “Oh. Don’t I feel like an ass now.”

  “Mommy!” Luke shouts from his room.

  I look up at Simon, still desperately trying not to get my hopes up. “I can’t do this with you right now.”

  “But later, can we talk?” he asks. “Please, Abigail.”

  “Okay.” I nod my head, trying to buy time so I can think clearly. “Okay. We can try to talk.”

  “Mommy! I have to pee!”

  I chuckle, knowing all of my son’s sudden, pressing needs are excuses to get back out here. “I should …” I point my thumb over my shoulder toward Luke’s room.

  “Yes, I’ll go. But we’ll talk?”

  I nod, following him to the door.

  “May I …” He takes a small step toward me, his gaze trained on my mouth.