Beautiful Disaster

by Rye Hart

  “Did you hear me Stephen?” I asked. “I said go to hell.”

  Tears stung my eyes, and I felt my resolve dissipating. I wasn't sure how much longer I could look at him without doing something I'd regret.

  “But Camille, just think about it. You might not be able to give me children, but other women can-- and we can raise them as our own,” he said. “It's surrogacy, nothing more.”

  His voice – more specifically, his words – helped me find that steel in my spine once more. He didn't get it. He really didn't get it.

  “No, surrogacy is when all parties are involved from the beginning,” I hissed. “Not when you cheat, knock a girl up, and try to have your cake and eat it too. If you loved me, you never would have cheated on me.”

  “It's not about love, Camille. If anything, I cheated because I loved you,” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “Can't you see that? You can't have kids, and this might be the only way you'll have a family. With me. The man you love.”

  “There are other ways, Stephen,” I said. “But you were too selfish to consider anyone but yourself.”

  I walked out of his office, shutting the door behind me. I didn't slam it either. I remained calm. Brownie points for me. I wiped my eyes, straightened my posture, and put on a happy face for the employees just starting their day. I had to get through this presentation, but after that, I'd lock myself in my office until it was time to meet Liv.

  Part of me feared that if I had to spend a minute longer with that clueless, arrogant prick, that I really might kill him.

  Chapter Six

  Preston

  Carter picked at his plate, looking far too glum for a kid who'd been offered his favorite meal at his favorite restaurant – chicken strips and French fries. I'd missed his last soccer game and felt like a total jerk for it. I was hoping a little junk food might make up for how shitty of a dad I'd been lately, ever since starting at the new job.

  “What's bugging you?” I asked, taking a bite of my burger.

  “Nothing,” he muttered, picking up a French fry and twirling it around like a stick.

  “Nothing? You've hardly said a word since I picked you up from school,” I said.

  He shrugged.

  “Kids picking on you?”

  “No,” he said.

  He rolled his eyes like a teenager. I swear Carter was six going on sixteen sometimes with that attitude. He reminded me of myself as a little boy – except with Melody's big, brown eyes. He'd asked permission to grow his hair out a little longer than usual – which his mother had indulged him in. I thought it looked like he needed a haircut, but what did I know? I kept mine short and clean, professional looking at all times.

  “I'm sorry I had to miss your soccer game last week, I had to work,” I said.

  He'd told me before that it was okay, but, seeing the way he was acting tonight, I had to wonder if he'd lied. When Carter didn't respond to my statement, I figured I’d hit on something there. I moved from my seat across the table to the one directly next to him. He watched me from the corner of his eye, trying not to make it obvious.

  “What do you say we grab some ice cream after dinner?” I asked, still trying to go the bribery route.

  “Okay,” he said, shrugging.

  I pulled my plate in front of me and started eating, hoping that eventually Carter would follow suit. He didn't.

  “What's really going on, Carter?” I asked, ruffling his hair. “Is it because your mom and I work too much?”

  He looked at me for a long moment, trying to decide whether or not to say anything, but, he finally – and reluctantly – nodded.

  “If you're not at work, she is,” he said. “I never see you both at the same time.”

  “Ahh, so you miss family time, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, your birthday is coming up, you'll have your entire family there,” I said brightly. “Won't that be fun?”

  “I guess so,” he replied, sounding miserable, and not looking at me. “It's just so far away.”

  “It's not that far away, kiddo,” I said.

  I noticed where Carter was staring now and followed his gaze. It was a family of four – mom, dad, and two little boys, all together, laughing and enjoying their happy meals together. He watched them for a long time, as did I, and my insides ached. I hated that I couldn't be there for him as often as I used to be. Melody worked a lot too, meaning that he was without his parents for long periods of time. I couldn't help but feel like we were failing our little boy.

  My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pocket. It was Camille.

  “One sec, Carter,” I said, standing up.

  I walked over to an empty corner of the restaurant, but in a spot I could still see my son. I answered the phone before it went to voicemail.

  “Camille?”

  “Yeah, I'm sorry for calling,” she said, her voice sounding as if she'd been crying.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, everything is – well, not fine, but you know,” she faked a laugh. “Bad day at work, had a conversation with Stephen that about killed me. My best friend thinks I'm going too easy on him. I just don't know what to do. I'm sorry for calling you, I shouldn't have bothered you.”

  “No, it's fine,” I said, leaning against the wall. “I told you to call if you needed anything, and I'm here for you, Camille.”

  “Do you think we could talk?” she said.

  Carter turned toward me and watched me closely. His eyes were filled with hurt.

  “I don't think I can right now, Camille. I'm sorry.”

  “Oh, it's fine. I shouldn't have –”

  “Not that I don't want to, but I have something going on,” I muttered.

  For some reason, I hadn't mentioned that I had a son. It had never come up, and now with everything she was going through, it didn't seem like the time to drop a major bombshell like that on her. Better to keep it vague, I thought.

  “It's fine, Preston,” she said. “I'll let you go –”

  “What about later?” I asked. “Like – after nine?”

  She hesitated, getting quiet on the other end of the line for a long time before answering, “If you're up for it, sure,” she said. “I'd like that.”

  “Sounds like a plan then,” I said. “I'll come by your place.”

  “My place?” she choked.

  “Yeah, unless that's a problem?”

  “Not at all, I'll text you the address,” she said.

  I got off the phone and went back over to Carter, who had taken a few bites of his chicken at least. I sat next to him and went back to my own meal, trying to keep everything friendly and fun.

  “Let me guess, you have to go back to work?” he asked.

  “No, that's not it at all, kiddo. In fact, the reason I took this new job is because I don't have to work weird hours anymore. No more being on-call for me. It means that once I get settled in, I should be around more. A lot more,” I said, taking a big bite from my cheeseburger.

  Carter's face lit up, just a bit. His eyes held a sliver of hope in them as he picked up the chicken strip and started munching away. He looked content for the first time that evening.

  “So we're getting ice cream still, right?”

  “Of course,” I chuckled.

  ***

  After dropping Carter off at home, I drove out to Camille's place. I pulled up to her townhouse and parked in the spot next to her car in the driveway, just as she'd directed me to do. I sat outside for a long while, contemplating everything that had happened in the last few days. It had definitely been a strange few days, to say the least.

  Hopefully, I could mend things with my son, and who knows what was happening with Camille. I knew rushing into things would be bad, especially since she had no idea about Melody and Carter. It was like I'd been living a secret life, one that she wasn't aware of, and I wasn't sure how she'd react to me telling her about it.

  I got out of the car and walked to
the front door. I knocked gently, almost too gently, and feared she hadn't heard it. I went to try again, but the door swung open just as I was about to knock. Camille stood there, in what I assume were her pajamas with sleep still in her eyes. Her hair was wild, her eyes unfocused and sleepy, but she still looked gorgeous in silky pink pajama bottoms with a matching tank top with a bunny on the front. A little cutesy, but Camille had always been into adorable animals, so couldn't say I was terribly surprised. It was cute as hell too.

  “Sorry, I'm a bit late,” I said, noticing that it was closer to ten instead of nine. I'd lost track of time with Carter, and traffic had been worse than I thought.

  “It's okay,” she said, yawning. “I fell asleep on the couch, but I'm glad you stopped by. Come inside.”

  The foyer to the townhouse was warm and inviting. Directly in front of us was a stairway that led upstairs. A vintage chandelier hung overhead, lighting up the entryway with a soft glow. The living room opened up to the right and was decorated in soft, earthy tones. The walls were a burnt caramel color, with light sage green furnishings. The couch was overstuffed and looked comfy as hell, and faced a large, stone fireplace.

  “Would you like something to drink? Tea? Water? Something stronger?” she asked.

  “Whatever you're having,” I said with a smile.

  “Two glasses of merlot coming right up,” she said, making her way to a small mini bar in the corner of the room. “Have a seat anywhere you like. Make yourself at home.”

  I chose the overstuffed sofa and the cushions enveloped me, making me think this is what it would be like to sit upon a cloud.

  “I may never leave,” I gushed, relaxing back into the softness. “This is amazing.”

  She chuckled. “I like my furniture to be functional and comfortable,” she said. “Even though I'm a designer, I like my home to be a place to relax.”

  “I think you found a way to mix comfort with aesthetics,” I said.

  “Here's hoping,” she said, handing me the glass of wine and joining me on the couch.

  She sat closer to the edge, instead of falling into the cushions like I did, so I moved to sit closer to her. Our knees were practically touching, but we kept them apart It felt like we were still testing the waters a bit, or waiting for the other person to make the first move.

  “So what's going on?” I asked. “You sounded pretty upset on the phone.”

  “Yeah,” she muttered, sipping her wine before placing it on a coaster on the coffee table. “I thought meeting with my best friend for brunch would help, but sometimes, she only makes things more complicated. Like, I know she's right and all, but she's rushing me – and I'm not sure I'm ready.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Mind backing up a bit? I'm not entirely sure what we're talking about here,” I said.

  “Oh yeah,” she chuckled nervously. “I got ahead of myself, sorry. It's about Stephen. Liv thinks I need to confront him and offer to buy out his shares of the company, demand he sells, actually. And she's pushing me to move on from him already. I feel like I just need things to slow down a bit.”

  “Ahh,” I put my glass down next to hers. “I see. Well if you're talking about what happened between us, I can assure you, I'm in no hurry myself.”

  I ran a hand through my hair and focused on the fireplace. I knew this was a talk we needed to have, and I was okay with slowing things down. But, I also knew these things were always a bit complicated. She rested her hand on my knee, and I looked down at it, her touch surprising me.

  “Thank you, Preston,” she said, pursing her lips. “But it's not just about us, you know. It's everything. But yes, I'm worried about what's happening with us too. I'm not sure I should jump into anything with anyone, considering the fact that I may be broken and –”

  I held up my hand, stopping her right there. “You're not broken, Camille.”

  “I mean, if I can't have kids,” she clarified. “It's not fair for me to jump into a relationship with anyone, knowing that I may never be able to give him children.”

  She bit her lip and studied my face, almost as if she was waiting for some reassurance from me, and not just me telling her she wasn't broken. I placed my hand over hers and gave her a gentle smile.

  “Even if you can't have kids, Camille – and that's still a big if at this point – there are ways around that,” I said. “And not all men want children, you know. Not every man is cut out for fatherhood.”

  Her eyes fell. “I know,” she said and nodded. “I guess I need to find myself a man who isn't too concerned with having kids maybe.”

  There was so much emotion coursing through her blue eyes – so much hurt and sadness – that I wanted to wipe away for her. I just wanted her to feel better and wasn't sure I knew how to do that.

  “Have you gone in for the tests yet?” I asked her.

  She shook her head. “I'm afraid to.”

  Lifting her hand from my knee to my mouth, I laid a gentle kiss on her knuckles. She turned and looked at me, her gaze careful and guarded, but a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

  “It's scary, and honestly, there's no rush,” I said. “Now that you're not with Stephen anymore, you can take as much time as you need.”

  “But – don't you think I should know?” she asked, the vulnerability in her eyes tugging at my heartstrings. “For future partners and whatnot?”

  Her cheeks were flushed, and she was having trouble meeting my gaze. I could see the struggle within her, could see her trying to assert her more practical nature over the fear that seemed to be consuming her like fire.

  I wished I had the magic answer for her. I wished I could say the right thing and tell her what to do. I could tell she was looking to me for guidance, but truth be told, I didn't know what the right path for her was. There was still so much I didn't know about her. I didn't know what she had planned for her life or what might have changed in her thinking, given the situation with her ex.

  Beyond that, I saw something deeper within her eyes. A curiosity. A question she was afraid to ask. It concerned me, but I stuffed it down, thinking I could be misreading it. Plus, she wasn't in the best frame of mind and needed a friend, more than anything.

  I just didn't know what it was she needed or wanted – or what it had to do with me.

  “Are you asking for my medical opinion?” I asked. “Or because you're curious how I feel about having kids in general?”

  “I guess, maybe a bit of both,” she said, a sheepish smile on her face. “Not that I'm in a hurry with us. Not at all. It's just – well, I feel like it's important to address these things early on, you know? And if you don't want to continue seeing me because I may not be able to give you children, I'd rather know now before I let myself get attached.”

  Her eyes shimmered and I could tell she was fighting back the tears, willing herself to not let them fall, but, in that moment, she looked so young, so vulnerable and afraid. I just wanted to take her in my arms and hold her. I wanted to stroke her hair and whisper in her ear, tell her everything would be okay.

  In the end though, I didn't. I feared it might make an already awkward situation even more awkward.

  “Camille, it's fine,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I know what you're dealing with, and I'm still here, aren't I?”

  She nodded. “But don't you want kids, someday?”

  I sighed and tried to control the herd of thoughts running roughshod through my head. I had Carter already, and I'd never really thought about having more kids. Melody had talked about it, but then things happened between us, and well, that was no longer going to happen. So, ever since then, I'd just kind of put the very idea of having more kids on the shelf. “I'm not worried about it,” I said, shrugging. “It's not even a concern of mine to be honest with you.”

  I expected relief, but instead, she looked even more depressed by my response. She leaned back into the couch and closed her eyes, and I leaned back with her. We were still holding hands, and hers felt so tiny and f
ragile in mine, which, seemed to be a perfect metaphor for her as a whole at that moment in time.

  I wasn't sure what the future held for either of us. I had no idea if there even was a future for “us.” All I knew for certain, was that I really enjoyed spending time with her. Even after being apart for years and leading completely different lives, it felt completely natural to sit beside her, holding her hand and listening to her breathe as she sorted through her thoughts. It felt normal. It felt – right.

  I stroked her cheek, and she leaned into my touch. Her eyes fluttered open, but they were still heavy with sleep. I longed to lean down and press my lips to hers, but I didn't think it was the right time for that. She needed to talk and needed some rest. “Looks like you need to get some sleep,” I said.

  “Hmm?” she mumbled.

  She drowsily opened her eyes, and when she saw me watching her, she smiled brightly. It was almost as if she'd forgotten I was there.

  “Oh yeah, maybe I do,” she said. “Would you want to maybe, spend the night?”

  As much as I wanted to do that, I knew I couldn't. Leaning in close, I kissed her lips letting the full weight of my mouth press against hers until she sighed happily. I whispered against those soft lips. Being so close and feeling her lips against mine ignited the fire inside of me. I felt the familiar stirrings in my groin and had to shift uncomfortably, as my hardening cock strained against my pants.

  “I can't stay the night,” I said. “But, I can stay a little bit longer.”

  With my hands on her hips, I pulled her over into my lap. She giggled happily as she adjusted herself, straddling me and resting her forehead against mine. Her eyes were sparkling, and any trace of sleepiness in her face had suddenly evaporated as quickly as a puff of smoke on a breeze.

  She ground herself against my raging hard on, a low, soft moan escaping her throat. Nuzzling the side of her face, I dotted a line of kisses along her jaw and neck, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender and vanilla. The scent of her caused me to grow even harder in my jeans, my erection pressing into her body. I knew if I didn't get release soon, I was going to explode.