Love, Exes, and Ohs

by Violet Duke

  Damn the friggin’ irony of the situation.

  “I’m never going to stop wanting you, Xoey. And I’m not leaving you. Or your son.”

  At her continued silence, he then went and declared the one thing that would nail the point home like nothing else could.

  “I’m not him, Xoey. That’ll never, ever be me, I promise you.”

  The soft, trembling sigh on the phone line told him that vow was exactly what she’d needed to hear.

  He’d definitely hammered the point home…right into his own coffin.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  XOEY HELD ONTO Blake’s jacket and watched as he ran into the hospital room to spend some time with Darcy.

  They’d been coming to chat with her every day for the past week. After she’d explained to him that Darcy could very likely hear everything around her, and that talking to her would help her, Blake had been a little trooper on a mission. Every day after she’d pick him up from school, he’d tell her all about a particularly eventful thing that had happened, or explain some cool new thing he’d learned. And after each tale and summary, he’d inevitably turn those wide eyes at Xoey and ask, “You think Mom would want to hear this story?”

  Xoey answered yes every time.

  Some days, on the car ride over to the hospital, Blake would give her a little worried frown and lament that he didn’t have any cool things to tell his mom that day. So they’d spend a few minutes brainstorming and recalling fun or funny things that he could talk about before they headed in.

  Several times, mid-conversation with Darcy, he’d looked like a panicked actor ready to call out, “Line!” when he’d stumble or forget something he was going to tell her.

  Xoey would fill in the blanks for him and watch, adoringly, as his little chest would exhale in relief moments before he’d pick up the story and take it for his usual animated spin.

  And every time, before he left for the day, he’d say a variation of the same thing:

  “You look real good today, Mommy. Don’t worry, I’ve been eating all my vegetables and doing all my homework. You just keep getting better. I’ll have some more funny stories to tell you next time. Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

  He was absolutely precious.

  Today, Xoey was certain he wouldn’t need any help filling in the blanks as his class had gone on a big Friday field trip the day before. And this morning, Isaac had brought over a bunch of his buddies to play football with Blake at the park. He’d had an absolute blast and had been talking non-stop the entire ride over to the hospital.

  As Blake launched into the detailed accounting of his field trip, Xoey settled into the chair in the far corner to give him some space.

  She was downright shocked to see Vivian step in moments later and claim the seat beside her.

  “I hear you’ve been bringing Blake over here every evening.”

  “He wants to come—ˮ Xoey began in defense.

  Vivian held her hand up. “I’m not criticizing, just commenting. I was surprised at first to learn that, because it’s not something I would do.”

  Again, Xoey felt the urge to defend her and Blake’s decision to stop by every day.

  And again, Vivian held up her hand. “Again, not judging. I just want to…talk. Is that okay?”

  Xoey nodded and took the olive branch that Vivian was clearly holding out for her to take.

  “Like I said, if it were me, I wouldn’t have brought Blake here every day. I would’ve probably paired it down to one day a week, to try and shelter him from everything as much as I could. But you…Darcy’s doctor told me that you three talked about Blake visiting, and that you’d asked him what he wanted to do.”

  Xoey didn’t know whether to reply to that non-question so she remained silent.

  Vivian smiled. “I wouldn’t have asked him. If he’d have asked, I would’ve given in, probably. But I wouldn’t have asked him.” She glanced over at her Blake who was bouncing up and down on the edge of Darcy’s bed, hands waving as he ran through all the excitement of the past two days. “Bringing an eight year old every day to the hospital to talk to his mom in a coma is something Darcy would do, however. You two…are very alike.”

  Vivian gave her a small apologetic smile then. “That probably played a part in how I reacted to the news of Darcy choosing you as Blake’s guardian.”

  “And why you’re planning on contesting it?” Xoey held her breath as she saw a dozen different emotions cross over Vivian’s face.

  “I’m not sure what I’m planning on doing any more. I thought I did. That night, I’d told my husband I was going to battle this out in court to ensure Blake would be with family. But now, I just… don’t know.” She shook her head in wonder. “I still can’t believe Darcy planned all this and didn’t tell me. Truth be told, I can’t believe she planned this, period.”

  Xoey studied her bewildered expression. “Darcy mentioned that you always thought she was a little…”

  “Flaky? Fanciful? Irresponsible?” supplied Vivian, looking pained at the reminders. “And a hundred far worse things, I’m sure. Darcy had always been a free spirit growing up, looking at rules as suggestions, and boundaries as dares. But this…what she set up here for Blake—ˮ A look of fascinated disbelief cloaked her features again. “Darcy planned all this to do what was best for Blake. She was being responsible. Heck, I don’t even have a standby guardianship for my children. Never even knew until now that the plans and wishes you detail in a will don’t take effect until actual death.”

  Tears filled Vivian’s eyes. “I never ‘got’ Darcy the way you do. She was always so different. I actually never thought anyone would pick her to adopt a child, horrible as that sounds. But you did.”

  “I knew the minute I met her that she was meant to be his mom.”

  “See, that right there.” Vivian gave her a wobbly smile. “That’s the sort of thing Darcy would say. Even Blake gets her better than I ever did. When those two are together, it’s like they’re on their own little planet. And I’m always in the next solar system, or next galaxy. I know she loves me, and would do anything for me. But I never connected to her the way he did. She and Blake share something truly unique and special.”

  Xoey nodded. She’d thought the exact same thing on numerous occasions. The pair were two peas in a pod.

  “Blake is my sister’s world.” Vivian’s voice caught in her throat. “And she’s decided to entrust her world to you.” With a helpless shrug, she asked quietly, “What kind of sister would I be to try and strip her of that wish?”

  “A caring one,” maintained Xoey gently. “The kind who has loved and watched out for her her entire life. The kind who would go to hell and back to protect both her and her world.”

  “But I wouldn’t be right. Caring, sisterly, protective, yes. But wrong, all the same. Because I wouldn’t be the best mom for Blake.” She met Xoey’s gaze and held it. “You would.”

  All at once, Xoey felt like every one of her five senses had suddenly magnified in power, overwhelmingly so. More emotions than she could name rushed up to clog her chest, and overfill her heart.

  Vivian squeezed her hand. “And I’m not just saying that because you remind me so much of her. I’m not saying that you’d make the best replacement for Darcy. I’m saying you are his mom, in the way Darcy is. In ways that I could never be. So no, I’m not going to contest the guardianship because I truly believe Darcy made the right choice in choosing you.”

  “Stop talking about me like I’m dead,” croaked a scratchy voice from across the room.

  “Mom!” cried out Blake.

  Xoey and Vivian shot over to the bed and watched Darcy open her eyes and smile first at Blake, and then at them. “Man, you all are chatty bunch.”

  Blake flung himself against her and held on tight as she whispered how happy she was to see him, and how much she’d enjoyed all the great stories he’d told her.

  “You were right, Xoey!” Blake beamed from ear to ear. �
��Mom heard all my stories!” Falling atop her for another big hug, he snuggled up against her. “We all missed you so much.”

  “Missed you too, baby.”

  Xoey felt Vivian squeeze her hand then.

  When she looked up, she saw in Vivian’s eyes a mixture of relief and gratitude and happiness for Darcy…as well as empathy.

  For Xoey.

  Because not only was her sister back, but so was Blake’s mom.

  Which left Xoey…not his mom.

  Again.

  And though she was nothing but deeply, humbly thankful to the universe for bringing her friend back to her, for bringing Blake’s mom back to him, that sense of loss ripped through her, threatened to break her apart at the seams from the inside.

  “It’s okay to feel conflicted,” whispered Vivian.

  No, she wasn’t conflicted. It wasn’t a war of emotions. Far from it.

  Every inch of her soul was beyond ecstatic that Darcy was okay. Every cell in her body, every fiber of her being. There was no question of that.

  Just like there was no question that every inch of her soul, every cell in her body, and every fiber of her being was also hurting right now.

  Because she’d just lost her son for the second time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “SWEETHEART, WHY’RE YOU working? I’m sure your staff would understand if you took tonight off,” reasoned Isaac gently.

  To a less than receptive Xoey.

  When Quinn had texted him to let him know that she’d just caught a glimpse of Xoey walking into Ocotillos, he’d dropped everything and raced over.

  It’d only been two days since Darcy had woken up from her coma.

  Two days since Xoey had removed all traces of her stay in Darcy’s house.

  Two days since he’d driven her over to Vivian’s to drop off the last of the things Blake had left in his truck and her car.

  To her credit, Vivian had asked her if she wanted Blake to sleep over in Cactus Creek.

  But she’d declined.

  “Because that would just be to make me feel better. It wouldn’t be for him. I know I’m not his guardian anymore, but if I were, I’d be the most selfish one alive if I allowed myself to do that.”

  Her words had barely been airborne when Blake had excitedly rounded the corner and bounded over to slam into her with a hug, talking a mile-a-minute about his day.

  Like nothing had changed.

  Isaac caught Xoey close her eyes for one brief moment and squeeze Blake just a tiny bit tighter before she let him go. She then ruffled his hair and said the same exact greeting Isaac had heard her giving Blake all those weeks ago.

  “Hey, B.W. What’s shaking?”

  Just the sort of greeting a family friend—not a mom—would give an eight year old.

  He’d silently raged then at the universe for putting the woman he loved through this.

  For making it so he too had to go back to that ‘before’ greeting as well.

  Before he’d known he had a son.

  “Hey Blake, cool shirt.”

  He couldn’t begin to imagine what Xoey had been feeling that day, but on his part, he’d felt a little piece of his heart break off untethered when he’d kneeled down then to fistbump his own son. The amazing little boy who, just the other day, had written on a homework assignment a list of his family, which consisted of a mom, a biological mother, an aunt, an uncle, and two cousins.

  No father.

  “I’m fine, Isaac. And we’re short-staffed tonight.”

  Xoey’s dull words brought him crashing back to the present in an instant.

  “Sweetheart, you don’t have to do this. Be this strong. Not now.”

  She gazed up at him sadly. “But I do have to. If not, I’m afraid I’ll unravel, and keep unraveling until there’s nothing left of me but an empty spool.”

  His heart clenched in his chest. “What can I do, sweetheart? How can I help you through this?”

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. “This. Just keep doing this to help keep me from coming apart at the seams.”

  For a brief minute they stood there and held each other right in the middle of Ocotillos, mindless to hustle and bustle around them. We’ll make it through this. Somehow, someway, they would. His future was with Xoey, and hers with him. He had no idea how Blake was going to factor into everything and vice versa, but right now, that’s what he clung to.

  Their future.

  …Until one loud, slightly drunk voice brought their past barreling into the present, shattering that sliver of hope into a million irrevocable pieces.

  “Hey, small world! I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

  * * * * *

  XOEY PULLED BACK and smothered a grimace when she saw it was Bachelor #3, aka Mr. Octopus Hands, breaking apart the one moment of comfort she’d felt in days.

  “Griffin, hi. How are you?” she offered genially.

  “Can’t complain,” replied an even louder than she remembered Griffin, who had on a top shelf whiskey slap-happy grin on his face as he swung his glance from her to Isaac. “So you two are dating now? Congrats. Again, small world. Though I guess I shouldn’t be surprised since you both know Quinn and Luke.” He slung an arm around Isaac’s shoulder. “I don’t say this often but in this case, it’s the truth. I couldn’t have lost out to a better guy.”

  Lost out? Griffin hadn’t even been a contender.

  Her thoughts must have been showing through on her expression because Isaac’s mouth twitched up into a tiny grin.

  Xoey found herself smiling as well in response, which had her momentarily giving Mr. Octopus Hands a pass for everything he’d done to earn that moniker.

  He had her and Isaac smiling again. That had to count for something. So instead of brushing him off, she smiled politely as he continued to disprove the myth that folks don’t actually talk like they do on TV crime shows.

  “I’m telling you,” continued Griffin. “This guy is the greatest. He saved my ass more than a few times back in business school. Am I right?” He triple-patted Isaac’s cheek in that mafia sort of way.

  Huh, maybe the guy was just handsy with everyone. Suddenly, his ass-pats the other week didn’t seem quite so offensive.

  “Anyway, I’ll let you two get back to your date.”

  Griffin gave her a long lost hug. “Xoey, it was so great catching up with you.”

  Catching up?

  She wondered what the atmosphere was like on his happy little planet. Must be nice.

  Another lip twitch came from Isaac.

  Man, her poker face clearly needed work.

  “And you.” Griffin did a cheesy double-pointing thing at Isaac. “You, call me so we can go grab drinks one night with all the guys. We miss you, man.”

  “Yeah, of course. I’ve been pretty broken up about that, too.” Isaac mimicked the double-pointing thing, and Xoey just barely held back a burst of laughter

  One more triple-pat on Isaac’s cheek and he was off.

  “You know, I really have no idea why I chose you over him.”

  Isaac chuckled.

  “Oh crap,” she sighed. “He’s coming back this way. I think the GPS on his space ship might be broken.”

  Isaac’s shoulders shook with even more quiet laughter. “Christ, I’ve missed that quick mind of yours.”

  Griffin was oblivious to their amusement as he torpedoed back over to them, zeroing in on Isaac, missile lock already deploying his business card like a magic trick.

  Ah, of course.

  “I forgot to leave you my card, man. Word on the street is that you opened up an MMA gym after you left. Smart, man. Really smart. Now I know you used to be the king badass with money back in the day but you’ve been out of the game for years. Your luck can turn on a dime in this market. So let’s have a real sit down and talk about your finances. I want to make sure my boy is protected.”

  Xoey swung a puzzled look Isaac’s way. It sounded
like…they’d worked together before. Why wouldn’t he have mentioned that?

  Isaac just nodded hastily and pocketed the card. “Sounds great. I’ll call you.”

  “You better. Because if I hear Ole Mack went belly up because he was too proud to ask for my help, it’s going to break my heart. You hear me? Think about it, man.”

  This time, Isaac didn’t answer.

  But he did finally meet her gaze.

  Probably because her eyes had narrowed down to slits.

  Griffin, who apparently wasn’t as stupid as he sounded, vanished a moment later.

  In the movies, the big gasping revelation always came quick and struck like lightning.

  Turns out, that wasn’t the case at all.

  It took Xoey a few seconds to dissect and pinpoint, to match up what her ears had just heard to the unease she felt hit her square in the gut.

  And then there it was.

  It didn’t wallop like thunder or pierce her like a bullet.

  No, it gathered up all her emotions and boiled it in a caldron—shock, anger, horror, hurt, and betrayal.

  …Before eventually bubbling over in trembling, unmitigated rage.

  “He just called you Mack.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “WHY DID HE JUST call you ‘Mack?’”

  Isaac watched the anger and hurt swimming in her eyes and it gutted him to tell her the answer she was already dreading, “The guys I used to work with had this thing about using last names—for me, they just shortened McKnight to ‘Mack.’”

  Stunned, she ran her eyes all over his features, cataloging each one as if seeing it for the first time. “It’s you.”

  He didn’t want to keep it from her anymore. “Yes. It’s me.”

  Tears and a look of betrayal so cuttingly deep slashed across her face as she backed away from him. “All this time.”

  “No.” He followed her as she fled to her office. “Xoey, stop. It’s not what you think.”

  She spun around in rage. “Really? Because I think you’re ‘Mack,’ the guy who never called me after he hit-it-and-quit-it with me. And my virginity. The guy whose friends ridiculed me behind my back, making me feel like just one more dumb slut who fell for ‘Mack’s’ player ways on the day that I went to go look for him to tell him I was pregnant with our child. Tell me, which part of that do I have wrong?”