by Ashley Munoz
“Stop leaving me,” he whispered harshly, so low that I thought I might have imagined it, but the burn on my hip told me I hadn’t.
“You always had a happy story to tell me about your family, and when I met them, I understood why. Hell, even I fell in love with them. Why would I talk about my life? You didn’t want to hear that my mother was the other woman, having an illicit affair with a married man.”
Ryan’s grip tightened.
“He paid her off to shut her up. We lived in a tiny trailer, with one bedroom we shared. Each of us took a wall, but when my dad came to visit her during his lunch breaks, I had to wait outside.”
I tried to step back again, this time pulling hard enough to gain release. I clenched the porch railing while I watched the calm lake.
“He only came on the days when he could easily convince his wife he had to travel for work. I learned all this over time. One night when I had waited hours for him to leave, I crept back inside and overheard him yelling at my mother, blaming her for all of it—for me. Said he’d been tricked, that she’d sworn she was unable to bear children. He made fun of her, asking if she honestly thought he’d choose her or the dumb kid attached to her…after he left that night, I found my mother crying, but the next week, he was back. She let him in, and we repeated the same process.”
“Bex…” Ryan’s throat bobbed.
“Two more years we lived in that tiny trailer on the outskirts of town. I made myself dinner most nights, and the only time my mother put on makeup or put any effort into herself was when he’d come over. I started to hate him, then her…until he finally stopped coming altogether and my mother became a walking corpse. She checked out, stopped living, for herself, for me…she may have been his second choice, but at least she was a choice. No one chose me.”
I stepped back, only to find him watching me with remorse heavy in his eyes. I didn’t want to be attached to him as those memories surfaced. I hated them. I hated feeling so forgotten, so easily overlooked.
His throat bobbed once more as he formed a response. “How come you never told me?”
I shrugged, casting my gaze out over the lake once more. “It was a long time ago, and it had nothing to do with us, or our relationship.”
He cautiously drew up beside me. “Yet you told my mother?”
I looked over at him, taking in his defined jaw and his delicious scent. “She specifically asked about them. She never accepted my bullshit answer, and for once I realized there was someone who genuinely cared about my response, my past…my words.”
Ryan scoffed, shaking his head back and forth. “Fuck that.” He straightened, those turquoise eyes glowering at me with unshed tears. “Fuck that, Bex.”
Guilt flared in my gut, splintering me like I was a piece of old, brittle wood.
“Ryan, that’s not what I…”
He stormed off before I could try to explain. It was a harsh truth, despite how much he likely didn’t want to hear it; back then, he hadn’t spared my backstory a second thought. He may have believed he was being a good boyfriend, but he never asked about my mother, never asked to meet her or go back home with me. He always took me with him to his family. I never assumed he was being malicious in his choices, but I did feel as though he had just written off a heavy topic he didn’t want to sort through.
It was easier, I’m sure. Where I was obsessed with every facet of Ryan’s life, he was satisfied with the version of Bexley he had in front of him. I didn’t blame him for not wanting to dig into the old me, the bedrock of my life. It was dirty, dusty, and a very ugly place, one not even I liked to visit.
Maybe it was good that Ryan knew there were more places than he was even aware of that he’d abandoned me in. Maybe he’d realize why I had to leave all those years ago and we could finally forgive one another and put it behind us.
19
Straightening the tarp, I secured the walkway into our tent. My parents had a massive eight-man tent with room dividers and a spacious area for standing. I’d asked Bexley if I could set it up while she relaxed with the kids by the water. She’d given me a tight smile and nodded. Our trip up to my family’s secret spot had been full of kids music and conversation from the back seat. Nothing had transpired between Bexley and me.
My grip on the steering wheel had been tight, my voice strained, and when we stopped for coffee, I didn’t even look at her when I asked for her order. I kept expecting her to throw a tantrum and demand I take her and the kids back home. I assumed she’d just want to call it off with how obvious I was in my wrath toward her, but she hadn’t. She’d been quiet and introspective, but not angry.
I wondered if that was how she’d been with Logan. If, to appease the kids, she had hid her feelings, silenced her voice…keeping the boat afloat without making waves. I hated that she was doing it with me now. I wanted her to yell, to fight; I wanted her to be the Bexley she hadn’t been ten years earlier. Although, that wasn’t entirely fair. I had been so quick to assume…
It was partially why I’d asked if I could set the tent up…I needed time to get my head on straight and stop being a dick. I didn’t want to spend the weekend fighting with Bexley.
Putting on the finishing touches, I finally turned and headed toward the lake to get Bexley and the kids. The fact that this spot was secret meant it wasn’t frequented by a ranger, or really anyone for that matter. On rare occasions, we’d see someone crawling over the hill, accessible only via four-wheel drive, hence why I’d left my luxury SUV at my parents’ and taken my dad’s truck.
Trudging down the dusty hill, I looked out at the water, loving the sense of calm that came over me. As a child, this had been the place that was always happy, full of laughter, memories, and new adventures. Whatever my family and I created there over the summer, I’d tuck away and hold on to for the rest of the year in eager anticipation of going again. However, now it had me reflecting on what Bexley had shared about her own upbringing.
Something uncomfortable flared to life in my chest as I thought about her origins and, more importantly, how I’d never asked about them. I knew I could create a million excuses as to why I hadn’t initiated a conversation about her life, her parents, or her childhood, but it wouldn’t make a difference. She was right; I’d stayed surface level with Bex because I was a shallow kid back in college. I was living life one win at a time, fueled by those stadium lights and the possibility of going big being within my reach. As much as I loved Bexley back then, as much as it hurt to see her leave, she was right; she came in second on my list of priorities…possibly third if we threw in my parents.
A thick lump of agony lodged in my chest as I crested the hill, seeing the beach and where Bexley was laid out next to Cole while Bella played in the wet sand, just a few feet away from where they relaxed in the sun. I could hear soft music playing as Bexley tipped her head back and smiled, her hat shielding part of her face. I’d missed it, this life I could have had…I’d missed all of it because of my misplaced dream.
Why hadn’t I just pushed to take her with me? Why had I ever kept her at arm’s length, ensuring there was always room for my dream to thrive between us? I’d never even asked about her dreams. I’d known she was going to school for design, but I had never once asked why that mattered to her.
Descending toward them, I tried to gain control of my spiraling emotions. It wasn’t often I admitted I was wrong, but in this case I was. Unfortunately, this was the kind of wrong that had taken ten years from me, taken the one girl that mattered, the one girl I pictured a future with. Images of camping in this familiar spot, lounging on this specific beach…as a family, with her as my wife, our kids playing around us…and I’d just given it up. For a dream.
Bella’s laughter cascaded around the lake as she splashed in the water, and Cole reprimanded her, telling her to watch it.
My eyes zeroed in on Bexley. She was wearing an aqua bikini top, shoving the proof of what I’d just been pondering in my face. She was more complete now, her body adapting to mot
herhood, those luscious breasts fuller than I ever remembered them being. I unabashedly let my eyes wander down her flared hips and dipped navel, all the way down those legs that seemed to go on forever. I wanted to get a closer look to see if she bore any stretch marks, anything that was different now than what I remembered about her.
As I drew closer, it felt like a punch in the gut as I caught her mid-laugh, that smile bright and warm, her eyes alive and full of possibilities. I watched, hoping my lust-soaked gaze would sear into her skin, into every crevice she tried to hide away from me. I hoped she knew she had split me open and I’d never recovered…it hit me as painful as a bullet to the chest when I realized I didn’t want to.
“You guys ready to come see the tent?” I lowered to my haunches, unwilling to take my eyes off her.
“I’m hungry,” Cole said, turning his head toward me.
“Me too!” Bella came and jumped on my back. I lifted her, swinging around and growling. Her giggle echoed through the trees as a soft wind blew over us.
Bexley started to gather their things, but I stopped her. “We’re the only ones out here—just leave it.”
She glanced down at her lounger and then back up to me with a smile. “That’s handy.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I gently grabbed her elbow. “Handy indeed.”
I carried Cole up the hill as Bexley walked with Bella. As soon as we got to our campsite, Bexley stopped cold.
I gently set Cole down in the space I’d made up for him: a lounger with several pillows and a blanket to help elevate his leg.
“Is everything okay?” I glanced around the site, worried I’d done something wrong.
Soft steps around the space with a pensive but curious look silenced me as Bexley caressed fabric and eyed the cozy space. “You did all this?”
I shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah…I figured you’d want to be comfortable out here. I mean, I know it’s only a few days…” My face burned. Why did it matter so much what she thought?
“Ryan, how did you…?” She spun in a circle, looking at the ground.
“It’s just an outdoor rug, no big deal.” I shrugged, moving so that my face would calm with the maneuver.
Tossing her hat onto one of the chairs around the fire pit, Bexley laughed. “Ryan, there are outdoor rugs covering the ground so we don’t get our feet dirty. You’ve covered the logs with fleece blankets, strung up hanging lights around our entire campsite, covered our heads with three different shade sails, and don’t even get me started on the kitchen area.” She gently kicked her sandals off as she walked toward the tent. “This entire thing looks like it belongs on Photogram with a billion likes. Should I even look inside the tent?” Her white-blonde hair shone under the sun assailing us through a gap in one of the shades. She was standing so close to me, and I wanted to kiss her.
A sly smile crept along her face as she took a step toward the tent, but my hand shot out on instinct to stop her as I said, “Wait.”
Her eyes lit like blue fire. “For what?”
“I want to show you the tent at night. Just please…wait.” My fingers moved down her arm, wrapping ever so gently around her wrist. The touch was like a familiar burn I hadn’t known I missed.
“Okay.” She searched my eyes and shook her head as if to clear it.
The afternoon was spent playing Pictionary Jr and some game with trains. Bella’s drawings all seemed to look inappropriate no matter what the poor girl did, which inevitably made me laugh, a few times to the point of tears. We ate sandwiches, drank lemonade, and then decided to head back down to the lake before it got too dark.
The serene waters glimmered from the golden rays of sunshine. I hated that Cole couldn’t swim, so I carried him in the water and set him in the inflatable raft I’d purchased. He smiled as he rowed himself around the small lake. Bella started building sandcastles on the shore while wearing her hot pink life jacket. I swam close to the shallow waters, where Bexley lingered, keeping a watchful eye on her daughter.
Needing to be closer to her, I carefully moved until we were just a foot or so apart. She hadn’t dipped her head under yet, so her hair was still glossy and gorgeous from when she’d styled it earlier in the morning. Our conversation on my parents’ porch came sweeping back in, another invisible line drawn between us with my silence.
Coming up behind her, I slipped my hand around her waist and tugged her to my chest. Her small squeal encouraged me as I started swimming backward, pulling her with me. The softness of her skin slid against mine under the warm water; her jean shorts had been shucked earlier when she dipped into the water, so I could feel her everywhere.
“Ryan,” she squealed again, gripping my forearms. She wasn’t trying to pull away, so I continued with my movements, swimming us around with her back to my front, her sunshine hair in my face, against my nose, that rosebud scent filling me up.
“Swim with me, Bex,” I roughly muttered against her ear.
She turned in my arms, shocking me. We stayed like that, staring at each other, her hands resting gently on my shoulders, her legs kicking between mine. I watched as her eyes dipped to my lips. In response, I pulled her closer by gripping her hips until she was flush with me. Her sapphire eyes widened as she felt my response to being this close to her, to having her pressed up against me like this. I waited for her to push it a step further, to do something to show me she was feeling what I was feeling.
Just when I was about to let her go, she lowered her hands below the water until she was gripping my sides, her lips parting just the smallest bit. I was hardening more with every breath that passed between us, and just as I was about to do something inappropriate like slip my hand into her bikini bottom, Cole splashed us both with his little oar.
“Got ya!” He laughed, quickly rowing away from us.
We broke apart; Bexley immediately started swimming back toward the shore while I tried to play out the joke with Cole so he didn’t think we were mad at him. I playfully went after him like I was going to splash him but was careful not to. The entire time, my back burned with a glare I knew was coming from Bexley, who I was sure was going to inform me at some point that there would be no getting close again, no almost kissing or touching.
It was a fleeting moment, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to have it last.
20
Dinner was quiet as the kids’ energy levels petered out. We had s’mores before the sky even grew dark, knowing those two wouldn’t last, and sure enough, as soon as they snuggled under their sleeping bags in their separate cots, they were fast asleep.
My eyes stung as I looked around at the large tent, at how careful Ryan had been with each and every thing he’d done to make this weekend comfortable for us. It was something I’d expect to see on a movie set or something an assistant or crew would have set up for him, but he’d done this all on his own. Inside the tent, dim lights were strung from one side to the other, and the children each had a small cot stuffed with blankets and pillows. Another outdoor rug lay on the floor between our separate space and theirs.
A thin piece of green nylon hung, dividing the large tent in half. On the opposite side where I would be sleeping was one large cot, big enough to fit two. Sure enough, several blankets and pillows were neatly placed around the space. I wasn’t even irritated that I’d be sharing a bed with Ryan, especially considering everything we were using belonged to his parents; there was no use getting frustrated over it.
Grabbing an extra blanket, I walked out to the fire pit, where Ryan sat stoking the flames. The soft light reflected off the harsh lines of his face, reminding me what it felt like to have his hands on my body. The moment earlier in the water was still simmering low in my belly, causing a firestorm of emotion and need to thrum through me like a war drum.
I wanted him, plain and simple. I was a woman with needs, and they were pushing their demands to the forefront of my mind, ignoring reason and history—which meant I’d need to keep my distan
ce, because having those needs met just wasn’t worth the cost of losing my vulnerable heart to this man again.
“They okay in there?” he asked, lifting those indigo eyes to me.
My thighs clenched together as I harnessed my resolve.
“Yeah, they’re great.” I smiled, wrapping the blanket around me a bit tighter.
“Should have thought to bring an extra one of those,” he said, eyeing my source of boundary setting. The fire was plenty warm, and we both knew it. There were several blankets he could pull from—in the tent, on the logs, in Cole’s lounger sanctuary—but still, I stood and walked over to him.
“Wanna split a log, or…” I looked around for an alternative option to share the blanket together. He was sitting in a camping chair, a fancy one that reclined and had all sorts of settings, but still, it was for one person.
“There’s room here, if you’re comfortable with that.” He smirked, challenging me.
The chair would break. I was positive of that, but if he wanted to risk it then fine.
“Scoot,” I muttered, inching closer.
“There’s nowhere to scoot—just sit on my lap.”
“Seriously, Ryan?” I wanted to flirt with the man, not be blatantly obvious about the fact that I was lusting after him.
“Bex, stop making such a big deal about it.” He laughed. Two seconds later, strong hands gripped my waist and pulled me until I was snuggled onto his lap.
It was shockingly comfortable.
“You okay?” he whispered once we’d laid the blanket over both of us.
“Yeah…this is actually kind of nice.” I rested my head back against his chest, letting my defenses down and choosing instead to just melt and go with whatever was happening between us.
“Bex…I wanted to talk to you about what you said on the porch…”
I shook my head in defiance. “Let’s not go back there. I was wrong for what I said. I shouldn’t have put that on you…it wasn’t right.”