Remembering Phoenix

by Randa Lynn

  I got scared. I got scared because of all the feelings inside me he was able to bring to life. Him getting angry at my denial of our relationship wasn’t the reason I pushed him out. I just used that, along with everything else, as an excuse.

  “Charlie.” Slayter’s deep, husky voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

  “Yeah?” My voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse from crying. He places his hand over mine, gently grabbing a hold, interlacing our fingers together.

  “We’re at my place. I want you to get inside and get a hot shower.” He brushes his lips across my knuckles, instantly warming my heart. “You’ve been shaking uncontrollably the entire ride over.”

  I look down at my legs and see them steadily trembling. I will them to stop, not wanting him to see that I’m so torn up right now. I turn my head away from him. I know my eyes are red and puffy from the endless tears I’ve cried. “I’m fine,” I lie.

  “You’re not.”

  I don’t reply. He and I both know he’s right. I’m not fine. I’m heartbroken. I’m bitter. I’m angry. I’m lost. They say there’s no greater heartache than burying a child. I say there’s no greater heartache than forgetting one.

  “Let’s get inside,” he says, hopping out of his truck. I open the door and get down just as he reaches my side of the truck. His hand finds the small of my back as we slowly walk up the cobblestone walkway to his house. I’ve seen the gray brick house, with perfectly trimmed shrubs, numerous times, but I’ve never paid attention to the tiny details. Like the small angel, with praying hands, sitting right next to the doorstep. I pause, not able to take my eyes off of it. “It was my mother’s,” Slayter whispers against my ear. I shiver, but not from being drenched and cold. I shiver from his closeness, and the heat of his breath floating across my neck.

  “It’s beautiful,” I finally say.

  Slayter walks me in, ushering me to the bathroom. “I don’t have any girly shampoo or soap. And I’ll have to try to find something of mine for you to slip on. I’ll wash and dry your clothes if you want. And, uh…” He’s rambling without looking at me in the eyes. I feel so guilty. Can he not look at me because I made him angry? Has he seen my darkest side one too many times to have any feelings for me anymore? “I’ll let you shower now.”

  He exits the bathroom, leaving me alone and still so extremely broken. I toe my shoes off, then discard my clothes, lying them on the edge of his Jacuzzi tub. I throw my beanie on the counter and run my fingers through my newly short hair. There came a point when life kept me in the undertow. I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I had absolutely no control over anything. So I took control of one thing. I chopped my hair off. It made a small weight lift off my shoulders. An extremely small weight, but something, nonetheless.

  “Here.” Slayter barges into the bathroom holding a stack of clothes. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” he apologizes, but doesn’t turn his gaze from me. I grab the towel from off the top of the shower and wrap it around me, feeling far too bared for comfort. It makes no sense since he’s seen every part of me already, but this is different. We’re at a different place. I’m at a different place.

  “It’s okay.” I grab the clothes from his hold. “Thank you.” He just watches me without saying a word. His eyes are darker today. His scruff is a little longer than the usual dusting. His hair is longer, un-kempt in a non-styled way. Not in the “I wanted to look like I got straight out of bed” look but that he is, in fact, straight out of bed.

  I shake the feelings stirring up inside me off, needing a break from everything. “I’ll be out in a minute,” I tell him, hoping it’ll give him the push to leave the bathroom. It does.

  I turn the water on as hot as I can stand it. I hop in the shower and stand under the waterfall, hoping all my problems will wash down the drain.

  I stayed in the shower until the water turned cold. The clothes Slayter let me use are much too big. My only saving grace is drawstrings. As I walk down his long hallway, I catch a glimpse of a certain picture on his wall that piques my curiosity. I stop and look at it. It’s Slayter holding a newborn baby. He’s not paying a bit of attention to the camera, instead every ounce of his attention is given to the baby. He’s smiling. He has laugh lines. I would usually cringe right now, but I can’t, because he looks so completely happy. If there is anyone in this world who deserves to be happy, it’s him.

  I’ve been in his house more than once, but I’ve never stopped and looked at his pictures adorning his walls. I guess because I’ve always been so caught up in him that I never noticed the aspects that make up who he is. I know this was a huge part of why he’s such a caring soul.

  “Hey.” His voice echoes down the hallway. I turn my head away from the photo. I feel like I’ve been caught snooping in things that I have no business in.

  “Hey,” I say. “Clothes are a little big.” I try to lighten the mood, but the air remains thick with tension.

  He nods. “You make them look good.”

  I dip my head, blushing at the compliment. “Thanks for letting me shower. I didn’t realize how cold I was.”

  He walks towards me, lifting my chin with two fingers. “Want to talk about it?”

  I’m not sure if he’s talking about my breakdown or the fact I’ve been ignoring him since last month. Either way, he deserves something.

  “Sure.”

  I make my way to the living room after fixing a cup of coffee, and I sit on the same couch I did the first time I was here. The same couch we’ve explored every inch of each other on. The same couch that held me up the night I felt like I was falling apart. Only this time, I’m seeing his place with a whole new set of eyes. His light gray walls. His dark floors are a stark contrast to his white furniture. Natural light filters in through the windows. I realize just how much I’ve been missing while being so caught up in the battle between my head and my heart.

  I’m so immersed in soaking in every detail of his house I’ve never appreciated before that I don’t realize Slayter has sat down right beside me.

  “So…?” he says, more of a question.

  “Yeah?” I ask, nervously. I take a sip of my coffee, then place it on the coaster.

  “What’s that on my bathroom mirror?” His eyes widen.

  It takes me a second to figure out what he’s talking about, and when it dawns on me, my cheeks redden with embarrassment. “Oh my God. No… I just... that wasn’t for you.” I stumble on my words. “It’s a habit. I always write on foggy windows and mirrors. I’ve done is for a while. I write it for Phoenix.” I pause at how ridiculous I sound right now. “It’s stupid, but I write I heart you. A part of me wishes he could see it…” My voice fades.

  Slayter’s eyes lower. He reaches out and grabs my hand. His touch instantly calms the torment raging inside. “He does.”

  Slayter, being here, not hating me for pushing him away, is everything. It’s more than I deserve. I can’t make out the words, so I just nod. He pulls me into him and we just sit silently for twenty minutes. Nothing said. Nothing needed.

  I knew the comfortable silence wouldn’t last forever. Slayter pulls away from me, and I instantly feel his void. I timidly look up at him. He tugs at his hair before saying, “I don’t want you to be sadder today than you already are, and I don’t think today is the day to talk about why you’ve been ignoring me since you kicked me out of your apartment, but I have to know. I’m not that guy, Charlie. I don’t wait around for people.”

  My heart plummets. My defenses climb. “No one said you had to wait around for me. I told you I’m incapable of loving anyone. That night just made me realize…”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Charlie. And don’t you dare say everything that happened between us was a mistake, because you and I both know it wasn’t. I’m not going to pretend it didn’t mean a damn thing to me, because it did. You can tell yourself all day long that we weren’t anything, but I know that’s a lie. I saw how you looked at me when you kicked me out of your apartment. You were broke
n. You didn’t want to push me away. I know you didn’t. And I’m sorry if I got upset when you wouldn’t admit to Lizzie that we were anything. I don’t need anyone but us to know there’s something here, but I won’t lie and say it didn’t crush me. It did.”

  He looks away from me. My chest hurts from everything that’s happened today. “I’m sorry, I just can’t. I can’t give you what you deserve.” My voice comes out shaky.

  His head snaps back in my direction, different emotions whirling across his face. “You’re only incapable of loving anyone because you haven’t figured out how to love yourself.”

  I have absolutely nothing to respond to that. How can I, when he pegged me to the wall, dead center. I don’t love myself. I can’t love myself until I forgive myself, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself unless I know that Phoenix was happy until his last breath. Living would be easier if I had a memory helping me hold on.

  I shake my head, trying not to cry. I hate crying, yet I find myself doing it all the damn time.

  “Look, I’m not asking you to give me everything, I just want you for who you are. I know you’re this complicated mess of a woman, but I don’t mind cleaning.” He laughs softly. “Just please, let me be there for you, Charlie. You shouldn’t have to wade through this life alone.”

  “Alone is all I’ve known,” I admit. “I deserve to be alone.”

  He pulls me back into him, wrapping his arms around me. He brings his free arm up, lifting my chin with his fingers. “You’ll never be alone again. I’ve got you, Charlie. And what you deserve is to forgive yourself.” He kisses me lightly on the top of my head, and I drop my head into his chest. The tears I’ve been holding back break free, cascading down my face. The heaviness of today falls over me like a weighted blanket.

  Seven years. Seven years ago, I gave birth to a perfect baby boy. I bet it was the happiest day of my life, one I said I’d always remember. Seven years has changed so much. Everything but my love for Phoenix has faded. Even when my memory left, my love for him stayed.

  “He would have been seven today,” I cry lightly against Slayter’s chest. Seven years of lost time wraps around my throat, coiling itself around my entire body.

  He doesn’t say a word, he just runs his fingers through my hair, knowing him just being here is enough right now.

  I cry into his chest, until no more tears are left.

  What Dr. White said to me the day I was walking out of our session comes to mind. ”Don’t die before you’re dead.”

  I’m just worried the tightrope I’ve been balancing on is about to snap.

  Hours later, the sun is setting. An array of orange, pinks, and reds paint the evening sky. I haven’t seen the sky ever look this fiery and majestic. Maybe it’s Phoenix’s way of putting his mark in my new world. “The sky looks like fire. It reminds me of a Phoenix,” I whisper.

  Slayter smiles as he pulls his gray t-shirt over his head. “It does, doesn’t it? I bet that’s his way of letting you know he loves you.”

  “You think?” I ask, sitting up straighter to look at him. “Do you believe in God?”

  “I think so,” he replies, a bit confused by my random question.

  “Think?”

  He situates himself on the couch. “Yeah. I used to think I didn’t. When I found out Claire wasn’t mine, I got so angry. How could God do that? Literally rip my heart from my chest. But then…” He pauses. “I found you.”

  My heart stops beating. Found me? How is that any proof that God exists? “What do I have to do with it?”

  He smiles, his perfectly straight teeth shining at me. My breathing becomes deeper as his gaze becomes more heated. “Because, Charlie, I thought I had lost my purpose when I lost Claire. Then you… you, just being you. You gave me hope. You still do. You literally fell into my life and I haven’t been the same since. Seeing your strength with everything life has thrown at you. Yeah, I believe in God, because He sent me an angel. He sent me you.”

  Tears cloud my vision as the words effortlessly spew from his mouth. I’m no angel. I’ve got more demons haunting me than I know what to do with most days. If anyone is an angel, it’s him. He shows up when I need saving the most. He makes me forget that I’m suffocating from the pain of not remembering. He breathes life into my dying soul.

  “I’m nowhere near an angel,” I whisper. ”I’m not flying, Slayter. I’m sinking.”

  He brings his face down to mine, our foreheads pressing against each other. “You’ll never sink, Charlie. I’ll always be there to pull you from the riptide.”

  My heart flutters out of my chest, firmly planting itself in the palm of his hands. I’m not ready to admit to him, or anyone, that I’ve given my heart away for fear it can be damaged—again. But I can’t deny it to myself any longer. What I feel towards him is palpable, it’s real, and it’s downright terrifying.

  Slayter leans in, his warm lips pressing against mine, and kisses me in the most loving, tender way. The smell of his cologne surrounds me. I could get lost in this forever.

  His hand reaches around and cups the back of my neck as his other finds the small of my back. My spine tingles from his touch. He parts my mouth with his tongue, swiping against my own. Goosebumps pepper my skin as both of his hands find the small of my back. He reaches down further, grabbing my ass, and picks me up onto his lap.

  I smile against his lips as the night we played truth or dare flashes through my mind. He did this very same thing. Only this time, there’s so much more at stake. I’m in so much deeper than I ever thought possible.

  Our tongues dance, my control having flown out of the window. My hands tug roughly at his hair as he explores my body. His rough, strong fingers, grazing the bare skin at my hips. “I’m sorry,” I whisper against his lips.

  “Shut up,” he says with a smirk, his hot breath perfectly stinging my skin. His thumbs rub circles of fire on my body. “Apologize with your kiss.” His lips are back on mine in an instant. Our tongues colliding in haste of passion. Everything else besides him melts away. Slayter’s erection presses against my core, and the heat between my legs intensifies, begging for him.

  I lightly pull his bottom lip between my teeth. A carnal groan escapes him. Our breathing is heavy as I find the bottom of his shirt and yank it up, pulling it over his head.

  Slayter pauses for a moment, and stares at me seriously. His chest rises and falls heavily with each labored breath. “This is it,” he says, his voice low and intense. “No more running, and no more hiding.” His jaw tightens with urgency as he awaits a response.

  “No more,” I assure him, knowing very well I could be lying. But right now I need him. I haven’t felt alive since I pushed him away, and I need him to breathe life back into me.

  I need to be pulled out from the undertow, and he’s the only one who can.

  We undress, our clothes making a pile on the living room floor. I lay on the couch as Slayter looks down at me, his eyes brooding with need. He runs his fingers through his hair before slowly lowering himself on top of me. He spreads my legs as he situates himself between me. Rubbing his length along my core, he pauses before slowly filling me.

  He slowly pulls himself in and out, in and out. This time is different. He’s not just fucking me. He’s making love to me. His strokes are slow and tender. I close my eyes, too overtaken by him filling me and him loving me. He bends down, breathing against my lips before he kisses me as tender as he’s making love to me, and I can hear his heart. Every single beat is beating for me.

  He kisses my neck, trailing kisses down my collar bone. A single tear escapes me. He’s kissing my skin, but he’s searing my soul.

  And I hope like hell I don’t ever have to break his heart. A part of me thinks I already am.

  “Hey, Paul. Can you come in for a second?”

  “Be there in there in a few, Beck,” he says before hanging up the line.

  I sift through some paperwork on my desk, making sure the contract is ready to be sent. We’
ve been working for weeks on closing this new deal for the project starting this summer. I thought for a while I was outbid, but thankfully the numbers Paul and I crunched made our bid the lowest by a mere few thousand dollars.

  After two light knocks on the door, Paul walks in. I look up from my papers. “The purpose of knocking is to wait for an invitation,” I joke.

  He laughs and sits down in a chair, kicking his feet up on my desk. “Just making myself at home, boss. Plus I believe you asked me to come see you.” He grins. “So, what do ya need?”

  I hold up the papers for him to see. “I need you to take this over to Freidman’s lawyer so they can go over this contract and sign it. Tell them we need it back within a week so we can make sure everything is set in stone and ready for when we break ground. This is huge for our company. Building this hotel, it could put us in a spot for more business in the same realm. We’ve got a great business, but I have to prove myself in this world. It’s not Pops and Glenn running the show anymore. It’s me.”

  “Gotcha.”

  I run my hands through my hair, trying to take a breather. I’ve been stressing over this, worried about the build. Not so much that we can’t do it, because I know damn well we can. But this is our first hotel build. It’s not just any hotel build, either, it’s Freidman’s, one of the largest hotel chains in the country. There can’t be a single thing wrong. This will either make or break us. “When we start building, there can’t be any mistakes. You’ve got to be an ass to our guys and subcontractors out on that site. I know I own this company, but you’re my right-hand man, Paul. You know the ins and outs of the job site more than anyone.”

  He nods his head. “I’ve never failed you, and I damn sure don’t plan on doing that now, Beck. We’ll nail this shit, and then Ryker and Beck Builders will be king.”

  “Never failed me?” I quip. “I recall going slightly over budget and a week behind on the project we wrapped up last month.”