Pieces of Him

by Alice Tribue

  “So then Xander …”

  “I know it sounds shitty, Emelia. I understand that, but it is what it is. We were friends, and Xander was an accident. That shit threw me for a loop. I didn’t want it, but it happened.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She went into cardiac arrest during her delivery. They said it was an embolism, and it went to heart. I don’t know. But one minute, she was here, and the next, she wasn’t.”

  “You loved her,” I say, and I don’t know why I said it. I just think that maybe he needs some kind of reassurance about what happened to her. About his part in all of it.

  “No.”

  “Maybe you just didn’t know you did.”

  “I wasn’t in love with her, Emelia.”

  “You don’t have to be in love with someone to love them, Max,” I tell him because it’s true. He may not have been in love with Keri in that way, but she was something to him. A friend, a mother to his child, a person who was a part of his life for a fleeting moment.

  He stares at me, but I’m not sure he sees me. I think he’s miles away now, maybe trying to connect his emotions with how he felt about Keri. Perhaps coming to terms with what it meant for him to have her, especially when he didn’t have anyone else. And she may have left, but she left him something he’ll have forever. There’s a sad beauty in that.

  He snaps out of it when the waiter returns to clear the plates and drop the check off.

  “You ready?” he asks quietly, and I’m sorry I asked about Keri because it’s obvious that he’s shut down. I nod my head and come to my feet as he rifles through his wallet and throws some bills on the table. I grab the diaper bag and stand there as he grabs Xander’s carrier, and together, we leave the restaurant. The drive home is uncomfortably silent. The air in the car is thick, and I want to apologize for bringing her up. I want to tell him I’m sorry for bringing up memories that are still so very raw for him, but I chicken out. I’ve already done enough. When we make it back to the apartment building, he walks me to my door and waits for me to open up.

  I want to say something, but I have no idea what to say to him. I don’t know if anything will bring him back to the guy I was starting to like, so I do the polite thing instead. “Thanks for lunch.”

  “You’re welcome.” He responds immediately but gives me nothing else.

  “So I’ll see you Monday?” Jesus, I hope I don’t sound desperate. I do. I sound desperate and stupid.

  “Yeah.” I turn to walk through the open doorway now. What exactly am I expecting him to say?

  “Hey, Emelia,” he calls, and I could not have turned back around any faster. Pathetic. So, so pathetic Emelia.

  “Yeah.”

  He cocks his head to the side, furrows his brows, and asks, “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-four. How old are you?” I return, wondering why he’s asking.

  “Thirty-two,” he says with a grin. It’s nice, but it’s still closed-off. Something changed during lunch, and I don’t know how to fix it. As if a bucket of cold water was just thrown at us and whatever heat existed between us has been eviscerated. I know I didn't imagine it, the way he looked at me last night and today. Something was there, and now, he’s locked it down.

  “Max.”

  He cuts me off immediately. “I have to get him inside. I’ll see you later.” He turns and walks away. It wasn’t rude, just abrupt. But it still hurts and I hate that it does. I’ve only been around him a handful of times. Why would I care if he walks away from me? More importantly, why have I opened myself up to that kind of hurt from him? Am I that fucking lonely that I would latch onto the first guy I meet? Jesus, Emelia, get a life. I decide to push thoughts of Max out of my head. I’ll unpack, give Hannah a call, and eat ice cream. That’s my plan for the day, and I will not let myself think of him again. I will especially not allow myself to consider what it meant when he walked away like that.

  Max~

  “I don’t know why I waited so long to do this. The kid has me busy, I guess. He’s doing real good, though, so I don’t want you to worry about him. Any day now, he’ll be rolling over. He’s relentless. You’d be so proud of him.” I stand up, dust the sand off my pants, and pick up the urn. Walking close to the shoreline, I open it up and carefully scatter the ashes, letting the wind carry most of them away. It’s been over four months since she died. Four months of taking care of our son without her. It's been the most intense time in my life. I honestly didn’t think I could do it in the beginning, but somehow, the kid just kept me going. I didn’t know if I could be a good dad. What did I know about caring for a child? I won’t say it came naturally because it didn’t. By now, I’ve figured a lot of it out, and what I don’t know, Mrs. Park and Emelia seem to be great at helping me figure out. Seeing how he’s grown is crazy. The kid’s doubled in size. He recognizes me now, smiles when he sees me, laughs, and falls asleep with his nose buried in my chest. He’s mine, and I may not have wanted it in the beginning but now … I’d kill for him.

  After saying my final good-bye to Keri, I leave the beach, jump in my car, and head home. It’s Friday night, and that means Emelia is there watching Xander by now. The past four months have been hell being so close to her and not being able to do anything about it. I made the decision to keep shit platonic with her even though I’d like nothing more than to complicate things. Emelia is young, too young to get herself mixed up with a grown-ass man and his kid. She doesn’t need to become an instant mother at the age of twenty-four. She’s already done so much for us, and I wouldn’t want her to sacrifice this time in her life for us. I also don’t know if she would even want to. Regardless, I chose to leave her alone for purely unselfish reasons, and that thought alone is shocking, but it’s better this way. What that means is that I’ve had a constant hard-on around her for the last few months. What can I say? She’s beautiful.

  I’m surprised at how quickly I make it home on a Friday night close to the shore. Usually, traffic is a pain in the ass because of the tourists, but the threat of rain must have kept a slew of them away. I head into the building and when I get to my door, I can hear Emelia scream, Oh my god. I unlock the door and push it open in a blur, wondering what the fuck I’m going to find on the other side. Emelia has Xander in her arms and she’s kissing his cheek. She turns her head toward me when she hears my keys hit the table.

  “Oh, my God, Max. You got here just in time.”

  “What happened?”

  “You have to see this,” she cries. She puts Xander down on his back on a mat spread out for him on the floor and plops down next to him.

  “Fascinating,” I say sarcastically just to get a rise out of her.

  “Don’t be an asshole. Just wait a minute.” She glowers at me before turning her attention back to Xander. I smile and shake my head at her. “Come on, Xander,” she calls putting one of his toys just out of reach. It takes him a few goes but, sure enough, he rolls onto his stomach, and I swear to god, I just want to pick him up and hug him. Yes, I know it makes me an extreme pussy, but what the fuck?

  Emelia cheers for him, and I walk around her, sit my ass on the ground, and scoop Xander up, holding him so that we’re face to face.

  “Good job, buddy,” I tell him quietly, fighting a goddamn lump in my throat. The kid finally realizes I’m here and smiles big at me and the sheer force of that smile shoots right through me. I pull him into my chest and hold on tight. He takes this as an invitation to plop his head down on me, and I kiss the top of his head. I look at Emelia, who has her eyes on us and a small smile on her face.

  “He’s a genius, right?” she asks.

  “Fuck, yeah,” I agree.

  She nods and pushes up to her feet. “I gave him carrots and bananas about thirty minutes ago. He shouldn’t eat again until his bedtime bottle.”

  “You leaving so soon? I was going to order a pizza.” I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my night with her and my boy.

  “Aww,”
she says with a smile. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m going out in a bit, and I need to go get ready.”

  “Going out with the girls from work again?”

  “Nooo,” she draws out coyly and teasing. She looks young and carefree; I love how she’s loosened up around me over the last few months. “Actually, I have a date.”

  My chest constricts at the sound of those words. It’s like all the air has been squeezed out of my lungs.

  “You have a date?” I question trying like hell to hide the anger in my voice. Why I’m angry, I have no fucking clue. I certainly don’t have a right to be.

  “Yeah.”

  “With?”

  “Just a guy one of the girls set me up with. He seems nice.”

  I put Xander back down on his mat and get up off the floor. I take a step toward her and cock my head to the side. I don’t have the right to ask any questions, but I do anyway.

  “Have you even met this guy?”

  “No.” She shrugs her shoulders. “We’ve talked on the phone a few times, and Kristen’s known him for a long time. She vouches for him. I don’t think she’d send me off to dinner with a murderer.”

  I give her a nod because what else can I do? I’ve never given her any indication that I’d like more from her, and I can’t expect that she’d stay alone forever. She’s young, she’s going to date, and I need to accept that.

  “Sooo, rain check on pizza? Tomorrow night maybe?” She smiles up at me with those blue eyes, and I’m pretty sure I’d do just about anything she wants. Besides, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see her. If it were up to me, I’d see her every day, even though it’s fucking torture. Maybe this is my punishment for keeping Keri at arm’s length. I didn’t want to take things further with her, and now, the one person I would like to take things further with is out of reach.

  “Tomorrow night. Just be careful tonight, okay?”

  “I will be.” She responds before grabbing her things and heading to the door. “Emelia,” I call out. She stops and turns back to me. I want to go over to her and pull her hair out of that messy bun on the top of her head. Watch how it falls around her face and then run my fingers through it. Fucking torture!

  “Yeah?”

  “If this guy tries anything, if you get into trouble or whatever … you call me, all right?”

  “You gonna protect me, Max?” she asks quietly. Her eyes flare with something and the sight of it makes me brace. What the fuck it means I don’t know, but I want to believe it’s desire. I stare at her for a beat watching that guard of hers slip again but say nothing in return. It doesn’t take long for her to rearm her defenses. “I’ll call if I need you.”

  I can’t take my eyes off her as she leaves my apartment. I want nothing more than to go after her, but I don’t. Why do I feel this way? Why her? What is it about her that makes me want her? She’s different than Keri was. Definitely more independent, and I like that about her, but that’s not it … Maybe it’s the way she’ll go head to head with me or anyone else if she feels they’re doing wrong? Maybe it’s just as simple as her smile? I don’t have the answer. All I know is she’s the first girl I’ve ever wanted to keep.

  I pick Xander up off his mat and put him in his play yard while I go into the kitchen and search for food. I make myself a quick sandwich and scarf it down while Xander’s calm. He could get tired and cranky at the drop of a hat, so I’ve learned to take advantage of his peaceful moods when I can. When I’m done, I get everything set up so I can give him a bath and get him ready for bed. He’s sleeping in his makeshift nursery now that he’s a little bit older. As I do these things, I can’t help my mind from wandering to Emelia. Emelia and her fucking date. It’s driving me crazy. I want to go over to her place and forbid her to go out with him. I’m not right in the head, I know. I want to hold onto her but without laying claim to her.

  Once I’ve run the water, I get Xander and give him his bath. I go through his nighttime routine. Yes, he has a routine. I get his pajamas on, sit with him in his rocker, and read him a book because Emelia says it’ll improve his brainpower or some shit. Either way, I don’t mind because he seems to like it. He just sits there and listens as I read to him about saying good night to the moon. Once we finish the book, I give him his bottle and he’s out for the count by the time he’s drunk the last drop. I lay him down in his crib, turn the baby monitor on, and close the blinds.

  Once I leave Xander asleep in his crib, I grab myself a beer, pop the cap, and sit my ass on the couch staring at the TV but not actually seeing what’s on it. She’s probably halfway through dinner by now, and he’s probably trying to impress her by showing her how sensitive and thoughtful he can be when deep down he’s just like every other asshole trying to get into some chick’s pants. Fuck.

  I’m halfway through my third beer when I hear the sound of voices in the hall. One of them I know all too well. I get up to walk over to my door, and like a fucking creeper, I look out of the peephole. Emelia and her date are standing outside her door. I can’t make him out, but I can tell I have at least three inches on him. I’m bigger than he is, I think, picturing him laid out in the hallway after I’ve punched the shit out of him. I can hear their voices, but hard as I try, I can’t make out what they’re saying. From his body language alone, I can tell he’s going to try to kiss her. He takes a step closer to her invading her space, getting so close that she has to look up at him to keep eye contact. Don’t ask me why … don’t ask me what possesses me, but before he can make his move to kiss her, I open my door and step into the hallway. All I know is that I have to stop him because if I actually bear witness to him kissing Emelia, I will lose my shit.

  “Emelia,” I call from just outside my doorway, and it comes out way harsher than I intended. The douchebag takes a step back and turns to look at me while Emelia peeks out and around his shoulder.

  “Max?” She looks startled by my outburst and worried. “Is Xander okay?” Yup, totally worried. I’m a dick for scaring her like that, but I don’t care. All I care is that his hands are not on her. What the fuck am I supposed to say now? I look back and forth between her and this joke of a guy who’s glaring at me now. Why don’t you come over here and do that to my face, asshole? I think as I stare him down. I focus my attention back on Emelia and make a decision. Fuck it.

  “I need to see you. Now,” I say tipping my head in the direction of my door. Her eyes go wide, and she gives me a slow nod before she turns to her date.

  “Thank you so much for tonight, Sean.”

  He eyes her with stunned surprise, and I bite back laughter. He can’t believe she’s going to walk away from him to come to me. He obviously considers himself a catch, and it’s a hit to his ego for her to shut him down like this.

  “Ah, yeah. I … I’ll call you tomorrow?”

  “Sure.” She moves away from him taking a couple steps closer to me. “Drive safe.” She ends the conversation and makes her way over to me. She reaches my door; douchebag Sean hasn’t moved, his glaring eyes are on me, and I’m loving every minute of this.

  “What’s wrong?” she questions. A hint of fear is in her voice, but I don’t answer her. Instead, I shake my head once and reach out grabbing her hand and pulling her into my apartment. I make sure to glare over my shoulder at her now fuming date before I shut the door.

  “Max, what is wrong? You’re scaring me.” Her eyes are wide, the stormy blue looking even more unsettled.

  “How was your date?” I ask keeping down the sarcasm and jealousy.

  “It … it was fine.”

  “It was fine?” I ask, but it comes out as more of a statement with just a hint of a threat laced underneath. This girl is not going to know what hit her in a minute. I’m sorry for that, but I’m through fighting it. I want her, and I don’t give a fuck how young she is anymore. If she gives me the slightest indication that she feels something for me, I’m taking my shot.

  “Yes.” She responds barely above a whisper, and I
like that. I like her voice soft like that. It makes me wonder what it would sound like with me buried inside of her. I place a hand on her stomach and give a gentle shove sending her back a step.

  “Did he touch you?”

  “Max.”

  “Did. He. Touch. You?” I ask dipping my head so that my lips are at her ear.

  “No.”

  “Did you kiss him, Emelia?”

  “No, Max. What’s going on?” she questions as I give her another shove. Her back hits the door, and I move in a step closer.

  “He was about to kiss you,” I tell her, but it sounds like an accusation. She steels her spine and juts her chin out. My brave girl.

  “Yes. He was.”

  “I didn’t like it.”

  Her eyes flare at my revelation, and I can see she’s starting to get it now.

  “Why not?” Her head tilts at the question. Curiosity is beginning to grab a hold of her.

  “Because I want to kiss you.”

  “Max,” she murmurs on a jagged intake of breath.

  “Because I’m going to kiss you.”

  “Max,” she whispers again, placing her hands on my chest.

  “Because I think you’d rather have me kiss you too,” I tell her, letting my eyes fall on her parted lips. Her breath comes in quick, short bursts; my hands go to the door one on either side of her head, caging her in. My head descends and she gives my chest a gentle shove, but I push against them and carry on. The moment my mouth touches hers, I know I’m done for. The flip switches and I ignite, coaxing her lips to part wider for me, and I take everything I can from her. It doesn’t take long for her to respond; her hands positioned on my chest grip my shirt and she starts to kiss me back. Her tongue slides into my mouth, and it takes all of my control not to pick her up and carry her into my bedroom. Her participation tells me that she wants this as badly as I do. When she whimpers for me, it’s like an invisible rope being thrown around me and tugging me in, cementing this connection between us. None of my bullshit reasons or excuses matter anymore. Emelia is life, and I’m taking every piece of her that she’ll let me have.