Minutes, hours, days pass—I can’t tell how long I’m on the floor. My phone rings from down the hall which pulls me back to reality, but I’m not ready to answer it. I fear if I get up now, I won’t be able to finish what I’m doing.
I place the letter on the floor beside me and rest Ava’s on top of it. It hurts me to realize that Maddox didn’t know our daughter’s name. He wouldn’t pick out names with me because he swore he’d be at the birth and we could discuss it then.
Inhaling a shaky breath, I get up on my knees and examine the box and all its contents. There are a ton of pictures of us, from our first date to the day we moved in together. There are pictures of my ultrasounds and candid ones he took of me. It’s essentially a memory box, one I didn’t know he had.
He has prizes from carnivals we went to, seashells in a jar, and napkins from The Retro Café, which is where we went on our first date. The box is full of inside jokes and dreams. There’s a paperweight in the form of an Eiffel tower and his old blue baby blanket he probably hoped I’d give to Ava. I laugh when I dig to the bottom of the box and find our Psych 101 textbook, the class where we met.
I can’t believe he kept all this stuff.
My phone rings again and I still don’t answer it. I’m sure it’s just Momma calling to check on me.
I get lost on my walk down memory lane. I’m happy to discover the memories warrant mostly happy feelings. I don’t remember Maddox as sick and in pain, but this box helps bring me back to all the good times we had, which I’m sure is what he wanted.
This box is the closure I didn’t know I needed.
I pack up all the memorabilia as a small smile pulls at my lips but a few lone tears still manage to fall. I carefully tuck the letters into a safe place to ensure I don’t lose them during the move and that they don’t get ruined either.
As soon as I finish, there’s a knock on my door. I stand and dust off my pants. I’m sure I look like hell, with red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
I pull open the door to see Wren standing there and my heart inflates at the sight, but I’m sure seeing me has the opposite effect on him. His face softens and his brows crinkle as he takes me in from head to toe.
I told him I was packing with my parents all night, not reminiscing and wallowing over my dead boyfriend.
“What’s wrong?”
I take in the loaded question, mulling it over in my brain before offering a response. What’s wrong? For the first time in my life, I’m certain of the answer. I lift up on my toes and plant a kiss on his lips before whispering in his ear.
“Nothing is wrong now. Everything is right.”
Thirty-One
Carson
Profanity disguised as rap music blares through the walls and yet somehow I can still hear my sister’s cackle on top of it. It’s only been a couple of weeks since I got back home and I’ve been trying to be a good house guest, but baby sis doesn’t live by my same rules. She has no regard for anyone else, including my daughter.
I trudge downstairs from the guest room, hoping the distance will mute the noise and allow me to focus. I have a few projects I’m supposed to be working on and wrapping them up, but it’s impossible to get anything done here.
Setting up shop in my dad’s office, I close the doors and pop in headphones of my own to drown out the noise. I have a few more hours until Ava is out of school and I need to get this done before then.
As time passes, I’m left staring at the same set of pictures without having made any progress on them. At lunchtime, my mom comes home and comes to find me in the office.
“Everything okay, sweetheart?” I’ve run my hands through my hair so many times, I’m sure my strands look like Albert Einstein’s.
“How can you put up with it?”
Her brows pull together, so I help her out by pointing to the ceiling toward the hellhound known as Flynn.
“Your sister is…special.”
That’s one way to put it.
“She’s a nightmare.” Or has my mother somehow forgotten all the fights and physical violence and overall destruction my little sister brings?
“She has some issues. You can’t fault her for things she can’t control.” My mother is always tentative when she speaks about her youngest daughter.
“She should be able to control her reactions to those issues. She’s not a toddler throwing tantrums. She’s eighteen. An adult. And you and Dad enable her and her behavior. Why isn’t she in college? Why can’t she get a job? She can’t mooch off of you and Dad forever.”
My pothead little brother is in college, so why can’t Flynn get her act together?
“I’m going to level with you, mother to mother.” I nod, encouraging her to continue. “Flynn is my baby. I mean, you’re all my babies, but as my youngest, she’s different and she’s a bit of a wildcard as is. I worry about her because of everything. Her fighting. Her drinking and doing who knows what else. I’d rather have her here, at the house, where I can keep an eye on her than have her out there and not have any control. Can you understand that? As a mother?”
I can’t deny that her explanation makes sense and pulls on my mama bear heartstrings, but I still hope Ava doesn’t end up anything like her aunt.
“That was a cheap trick.” My mom laughs. “Does this mean Flynn is not only Dad’s favorite, but yours too?” I scrunch my nose and my mom rolls her eyes.
“Your father doesn’t do a very good job hiding that fact, does he? But I’ll let you in on a little secret about what I think.” She leans in and lowers her voice. “The first kid is always the best.” She winks and I laugh as she leaves the office.
The next few weeks are going to get interesting fast. Between adjusting to my new living arrangements and dealing with my sister, Lucas will be home for the holidays. My parents are sure to be thrilled to have their nest full again, but I’m counting the days until my house is finished.
That night as my mom is prepping for dinner, she calls me into the kitchen to help her.
“Why don’t you invite Wren over for dinner? We’d love to have him.” The thought of my boyfriend coming to dinner wraps around my mind like a warm cashmere blanket.
I take my mom’s advice and extend the invitation. He’s still at work when I call, but he agrees to come over right after. “Does this mean I’m going to meet the infamous Flynn?” he asks.
“Don’t remind me. She’s infamous, all right, but I’ll try to convince her to be on her best behavior.” Sadly, I don’t know if my sister knows what good behavior is.
An hour later, Wren shows up at the house, bringing wine and flowers for my parents. My mom has prepared baked ziti and apple pie for dessert and when the table is set she scurries upstairs to face the reckoning—I mean, to get Flynn.
Ava demands a seat next to Wren at the table and I take the seat on the other side of her. That leaves one seat for my little sister: the one right next to my boyfriend. This is going to be interesting and likely, awful.
“Who’s the stiff?” Flynn eyes Wren in his work attire and slinks down in the chair beside him.
“Flynnie, this is Wren, Carson’s boyfriend.” My mom’s tone is easy, cautious.
“It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” My boyfriend smiles at my sister and she rolls her eyes at him.
“I can only imagine what you heard about me.” She snorts. “I thought you were made up, to be honest. I couldn’t believe teen mom over there started dating again.” My fists curl on top of the table.
“Flynn,” my dad scolds her, his tone a warning.
“Sorry, Daddy.” Her response is saccharine and I want to smack her hard enough to wipe the fakeness right off her face.
I’m rewarded with silence for all of five minutes until the she-devil decides to open her mouth again. “So how long have you two been screwing?”
“Seriously? Watch your language,” I chastise.
“I could’ve said fucking.”
�
��Flynn, knock it off,” my mom demands.
I take back everything I said to Momma earlier. I don’t understand how my parents put up with the brat.
My parents ask Wren about architecture and Flynn mainly keeps her snide comments under her breath. My boyfriend is being a good sport and I pray this night doesn’t make him leave me.
As my mom cleans up the table and gets out plates for dessert, Flynn leans back in her chair and eyes Wren. I can tell she wants to say something, but for some reason, she’s keeping her mouth shut. That fact somehow manages to unnerve me more than her words would.
Instead, she reaches into her bra rather unflatteringly, to where her breast almost pops out and I’m sure Wren gets an eyeful too.
“Watch your eyes, stiff. Carson, your boyfriend just checked me out,” she says it like she’s proud and though I know it’s not true, it still grates on my nerves.
Lord, give me strength.
From her bra, she pulls out a joint and lights it at the dinner table. I’m going to fucking murder her.
“Are you fu-kidding me, Flynn? Seriously? My daughter is here. You can’t just light up wherever you freaking please. What the heck is wrong with you?” Smoke must be coming out of my ears with how bad I’m fuming at the moment.
“Flynn, up to your room, now. We’ll talk about this later,” my dad yells at her and she scoffs, rolls her eyes, and slinks away. I’m ready to fucking kill her.
“Wren, I am so sorry about her,” my mom says, coming to rest a hand on my boyfriend’s shoulder.
“Mom, don’t apologize for her. She’s old enough to do it herself.” I want to storm off into the living room, but I can’t because I have to worry about and care for my daughter. I have to be strong for her, no matter how upset I am. “Honey, go play in your room for a little.”
I take my daughter to her bedroom where she plays with all her toys. I storm downstairs to get as far away from my sister as possible. Wren is sitting at the table talking to my parents and my mom gives me a weak smile when she sees me return.
I don’t want to talk to them right now because I know I’ll lash out and say things I don’t mean or can’t take back.
I head to the living room and sink into the couch, sulking and fuming.
“So, that’s Flynn.” I almost laugh at Wren’s tone.
“That’s Flynn alright. You can see why I didn’t want you to meet her.” Wren has this way of calming me down the second he enters the room. I went from Hulk-level mad to mild irritation.
“Yeah, it’s perfectly clear. You two are so much alike you thought I’d mix you up.” I smack him and he laughs. “I’m kidding. Nothing that happened tonight changes the way I look at you. I want you to know that.”
“Thank you.” He sits next to me and I lean into his side. “What am I going to do? I have to live with her for who knows how much longer. Who knows what kind of damage she’ll inflict on Ava in that time.”
His hand rubs over my arm, comforting me. His body tenses the tiniest bit, like he’s bracing to say something serious. “The offer stands, you know.”
“I’m not—I wasn’t…Wren. No. I appreciate it, but I can’t do that to you.”
“Why not? I have the space. I’m not trying to pressure you or make you uncomfortable. I have two spare rooms, so you and Ava can both have one of your own if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t want you to be stressed staying here when you have another option.” I pull back to look at him. His eyes say everything I need to hear and I know he’s being serious about this.
“Are you sure?” My hands instinctively find the ends of my hair and I tug on the raven strands.
“You can pack your things and come tonight if you want.” I toy with the idea in my head, but I already know what my next move is. I think of Maddox’s note and how he hopes someone is here to look out for both me and our daughter.
“I’ll stay here one more night and we’ll come by tomorrow. Thank you, Wren.” I kiss him and a weight is lifted off my shoulders. A large part of me can’t wait until tomorrow comes.
Thirty-Two
Carson
Like two hesitant, lost puppies, Ava and I walk up Wren’s steps for the next phase of our homelessness. Well, I’m like a sad dog. Ava is bounding around, overly excited for our extended sleepover with her best friend. It’s cute, but I still feel like we’re intruding on him.
My boyfriend appears at the door with a wide smile. He comes out to meet us and grab our bags and I know the next five minutes are going to be pretty awkward.
As he carries our stuff inside, I take in the quaint ranch-style home. Though I can tell it’s a bachelor pad, there is a woman’s touch spread throughout. I suspect his sister has something to do with that. Or Sophia.
“You have a beautiful home.” It’s not surprising since he is an architect, after all, but it’s designed and decorated well also. Every room flows into the next and no room is dirty or barren.
Ava follows our every move as Wren leads us to the guest rooms. Now I have to make the decision. Do I stay in the guest room or stay with Wren? It would be a huge step for us since we have yet to sleep together in either sense. He also never technically asked me to stay in his room with him. I don’t want to intrude.
I place my daughter’s things in one room and with reluctance I place my things in the next room beside hers. Wren’s tight smile tells me everything I need to know. I hate that I’ve upset him, but I don’t know how to handle this situation.
I think about what Maddox said in his letter and how he wants me to be happy and to find a good man. Wren is a good man; hell, he’s a great one. So why, after all this time, am I still holding back?
I’m stuck in my head for the rest of the night. I insist on making dinner as a small payment toward our staying here despite being distracted and almost chopping off my thumb. The night is on a fast downward spiral and I wish I could have a glass of wine with dinner. I’m counting down the minutes until Ava goes to bed and I can attempt to relax.
After singing along to Moana and two episodes of Vampirina, I tuck my daughter into her new bed and close the door, resting my head against the back and exhaling heavily. Wren comes down the hall and sees me standing there. A wry smile pulls at his lips and he offers me his hand, which I take.
Instead of following him to the couch, I break off and head to the kitchen to open a bottle of wine. I grab the first one I see, not caring what kind it is.
“Are you okay?” Wren asks. I hand him a glass as well before I settle into the couch, hoping he doesn’t make me drink alone.
I take a large swig and nod. “I’m fine.” Every person on the face of the Earth knows that when a woman says ‘I’m fine’ that she’s anything but.
“Carson.”
“Wren.”
The stare off lasts about seven seconds before I crack. “I don’t know. I feel…awkward. Out of place. Like an intruder.” I mean, essentially, I am despite Wren’s best efforts to make us feel welcome and comfortable.
“I don’t know what else to do for you, Carson. I want you here, both of you, and you need to accept that and make a decision.” He’s frustrated and I don’t blame him.
“I’m sorry.”
“So, that’s it?” He takes a large sip and I realize he misconstrued my words.
“Oh, no. I mean, I’m sorry for being so weird about all this. I want to be here with you.”
“Are you sure?” I debate over whether or not I should say the words swirling around in my head, but I cave.
“I found a letter that Maddox…that my ex left me. It gave me the closure I needed…or rather, didn’t know I needed? If that makes sense.” I take a sip of my wine and take in Wren’s confused face. “What I’m saying is, yes. I’m sure that I want to be here and I’m sure that I want to be with you.” It took me long enough, but now I can say this with absolute certainty.
He smiles a real, genuine grin and I’m glad I’m the one that put it there. I put my glass on t
he modernized coffee table in front of me. With slow, measured hesitance I lean in. I look up under my lashes right before brushing my lips against his.
This kiss is different from all the ones before it. I feel…free, like the chains that were wrapped around my heart haven’t just loosened, but have disappeared altogether.
My hand shakes as I reach behind his neck and anchor my body to his. Wren is tentative at first, but the more I push, the more he caves. He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me against him. My shirt rides up and his fingers on my bare skin shoot a current of need straight to my core.
In a move that is uncharacteristically brazen, I swing my leg over my boyfriend’s hip and straddle him. The feeling from his erection growing beneath me is somehow both foreign and familiar. On instinct, I grind against it, like my body knows what to do before my brain transmits the message.
He pulls back and stares into my eyes, searching for an answer to the question he’s too scared to ask. I nod and lean back in, my lips finding his neck and kissing my way down. Wren hooks his hands under my ass before he stands, lifting me with him.
He carries me back to his bedroom and my lips never leave his neck. He pushes the door closed with a slight click before walking over and placing me on the bed. My nerves are frazzled at the very real prospect of sleeping with Wren tonight.
I’m excited but I’m also tense. I’m not a virgin by any means—see: Ava—but I haven’t had sex in over five years. I desperately need the release, but I’m also terrified about taking this step. But I have to take it. More than that, I want to.
I lay back and Wren climbs up my body; the weight of his pressed down on mine is heady. Though we’re making out in his bed, he’s being ever the gentleman. He’s taking my initiative, waiting for me to make the moves and allowing me to go at my own pace.
My hands make their way under his t-shirt, pushing the fabric up until we’re forced to break the kiss so he can pull it over his head and toss it on the floor. I take the moment to rake my eyes over his body, appreciating the hard contours of his chest and abs. The smattering of dark chest hair brings out a primal reaction I wasn’t expecting. I lick my lips and he leans in, devouring my mouth and moaning into it.
Selfless (A Carolina Coastal Novel Book 1) Page 15