Too overcome with raw emotions for words, I just nod. He’s right, as always. Addy needs a strong role model because I refuse to see her like me. Whether I want to admit it or not, I am heartbroken still. Nobody can forget their first love, and Bash held all my firsts. He’s engraved in the deepest part of me, and the reason why I have such a beautiful little girl to care for every day.
I want to hate Bash. But how can I hate the man who has given me something so precious to love? It was almost like a trade—his love for hers. Only I know she’d never leave me like him, never break me like him.
Roy startles me by placing his hand on my shoulder. Teary eyed, I blink to focus on his face, and he smiles at me like he can read my thoughts. It’s no secret that I love Addison with every fiber of my being. The whole town knows I do. But what I buried deep down were my true feelings for the man who’d given me my biggest love.
He gestured toward the stairs. “Take the rest of the day off, kid. You’ve been working nonstop lately. Spend some time with Addy and Noah, I know he’s leaving tomorrow.”
Frowning at the statement, I let guilt swarm into my heart over being mad at Noah. It isn’t like he knew Bash would be at the park, or that Addy would talk to him. She’s a free-spirited kid who tends to do what she pleases despite what we think about it.
“Are you sure?” My apron is already untied when I ask, causing him to chuckle. He takes it and nods, waving me off to my apartment.
I need to make things right with Noah before he leaves tomorrow. Disagreements have never been us, and him leaving while either of us are upset has been something we avoided at all costs. I refuse to be like my parents, letting people go without fighting for them.
As soon as I walk into the apartment, Noah turns from where he stands in the living room. Addy is playing with plastic food, probably getting ready for her tea party with Noah.
He takes one look at my face and opens his arms to me. Walking into them, I absorb the warmth as they wrap around my waist. I tell him I’m sorry, and he tells me it’ll be okay. And I believe him.
Because with Noah, it always is.
***
Wrapping the fuzzy material of my white robe tighter around my body, I watch as Noah loads his suitcase into the back of the company car. I know the trip is only for a week, but saying goodbye is never easy.
He closes the trunk and looks at my sullen expression, engulfing me in a warm hug.
“You really should have put some real clothes on,” he scolds, rubbing my arms. The morning air is chilly compared to other days, the perfect weather to match my mood right now.
“It’s not like I’m naked, Noah,” I point out, peering down at my pajamas once he steps back. I wiggle my toes, which are stuffed in puppy-shaped slippers that Addy got me for my birthday.
I look at the crooked grin he shoots me. “No, unfortunately you’re not.” The way his eyes flash tells me he’s picturing me how I was last night, sprawled out before him, showing him just how much I’d miss him. It seems to become more primal every time he leaves for work, like my need to prove my love for him is all I can think to do—my body giving him everything, in any way it can.
A blush warms my cheeks as I stand on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. His expressions softens from lust to love in a heartbeat, and he presses his lips to mine. I sigh at the gesture, the familiarity, the way my chest lightens despite having a million worries trying to weigh me down.
He pulls back, resting his forehead on mine. I swipe my fingers gently down his cheek, resting them on his shoulder.
“I’m going to miss you, babe,” he whispers, taking my freehand and entwining our fingers together.
“I know.” I’ll miss you, too.
It’s the same goodbye every time, the same exchanges between us. He’ll leave, I’ll sulk, but I’ll pretend I’m fine because Addy doesn’t need to see me any other way. But this time something is different. He draws back—pulls away. And when he looks at me, the depths of his dark eyes aren’t holding the same light as usual. Because unlike the other times, there is somebody else standing between us.
His fingers trail along the curve of my jawline, and he doesn’t have to say anything for me to know what he’s thinking.
He wants me to see Bash.
“I can’t do it,” I tell him hoarsely. “Not without you. I need you, Noah.”
His eyes sober. “You don’t,” he argues.
How could he say that? “Noah—”
“Mr. Fuller?” the driver calls. “We should get going if you want to make your flight.”
I frown at that, watching Noah intently. I wish he would let me drive him to the airport, anything to have more time with him. But Addy would be cranky if I got her up this early, and Noah doesn’t want her missing school.
“I’ve got to go,” he sighs, kissing me briefly again. “But I mean it, Opal. You can do this without me. He has to know eventually.”
I nod in agreement, not knowing what else to say. We’ve had this conversation before, and it always ends up the same way. We both understand that Bash needs to know about Addison. It’s inevitable, especially now that he’s living in Clinton again.
Without another word he gets in the back of the car and waves through the window. I hug my arms tightly around my waist, watching as the taillights disappear in the distance.
Slowly making my way back inside, I go to Addy’s room and see her sleeping form. Her sock monkey is tucked under her arm, and her soft snores ease some of the tension in me. I tiptoe into her room, pulling her pink princess blanket up to cover her. She shifts, but stays asleep, giving me room to crawl in next to her.
And because I’m lonely, because I don’t want to sleep in an empty bed alone, I do it. I curl up beside her, wrapping her in my arms, and listen to her snore softly until I drift off, too.
Age 12
Daddy goes to a retreat for police officers in Vermont twice a year, which leaves Mama and I alone for the week. It’s already been three days since he left, and Mama seems different somehow. Lighter.
The first night, she ordered pizza for dinner and told me that it’d be our secret. Daddy didn’t like it when we ordered out because he said Mama doesn’t have anything else to do other than cook. I can tell that upsets her, but she never corrects him.
On the second night, we went out for ice cream and then to the movie store to pick out movies Daddy didn’t like us watching. The smile on her face seems foreign, but it makes her eyes twinkle and look like mine.
Today has been my favorite, because she let me go out with Bash to the playground. His mother is having lunch with mine, and I wonder if they’ll become friends like Bash and me.
“What are you thinking about?” Bash asks me, still staring up at the sky. I lay next to him, studying his profile. He seems to content out here, and I don’t quite get it, but it’s nice being able to hangout with him without Daddy putting a limit on it.
I see Bash all the time at school, but out of it Daddy likes to keep me inside. Twice a week he’ll let me go to Bash’s house to do homework, but we usually watch television and eat candy instead.
“Nothing,” I lie, looking away before he catches me staring. “Do you think that cloud looks like a giant piece of pie?” I ask, pointing toward the one above me.
He’s silent for a minute. “Maybe. Just looks like a cloud to me.”
I frown at the lack of his creativity. It’s his idea to stare at the sky, and I can’t figure out why he likes it so much. Maybe because he wishes he could fly. He asked me what my superpower would be once, and I told him I already had one, invisibility.
“I can see you,” he argues doubtfully.
“That’s because I want you to.”
“Face it, Opal,” he tells me. “You’re not invisible, even if you think you are. Even if you want to be.” He takes me by surprise by taking my hand, squeezing it. “Not with me.”
I find myself smiling at the weirdly shaped clouds, remembering that day last year
.
“Why do you like looking at the sky so much?” I question, sitting up. I’ve asked him before, but like hearing him talk about it, because I know how much the stars means to him.
He mimics me, yanking blades of grass out of the ground. “My dad used to be into stargazing. He told he he’d teach me the different constellations, but …”
But then he left, I finish silently for him.
I take his hand, weaving our fingers together in comfort. He stares at our hands, and I wonder if he wants to pull away. I used to hear boys talking about girls having cooties, but everything changed in middle school. It’s like boys notice girls in a different way now.
Does Bash notice me?
He finally glances up at me, with a small smile tipping his lips. He doesn’t have to tell me he’s grateful. I know.
“Anyway, I just like looking at the sky sometimes,” he concludes, shrugging. “As much as I want to hate him, I don’t. I love him because he’s my dad. Watching the sky, especially at night, reminds me of him.”
I think about what he says, wondering if my love for Daddy will stay that way. There are days when I hear him yelling at Mama that I want to hate him. For raising his voice, for making her cry.
In a small voice, I ask, “You don’t ever think your love for him will go away?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. I won’t ever forgive him for hurting my mom like he did, but she seems happier without him.”
“But how could you love him and not forgive him?” I doubt, squirming where I sit.
He thinks about it for a second, his nose scrunching. “I guess because it’s the unconditional kind of love.”
My brows pinch together. “Like a puppy?”
He laughs, breaking our hands apart from each other. I miss his warmth, but the sound of his laugh makes me smile, warming me in a different way. “Yeah, I guess.”
I nod in understanding. Unconditional love. I guess that’s what I have for Daddy. Even though he isn’t always the nicest, a part of me knows I’ll always love him.
“I guess I feel the same way about mine.”
His head tilts. “Your dad isn’t going to be gone forever, Opal. He’s just on a business trip.”
I stare at the grass. “I know.”
Part of me is sad that I won’t be able to do what Mama lets me when he’s gone. All the time I get to eat junk food and watch movies and play with Bash will be limited again.
“But you hear things at school,” I sigh, tracing my finger in the dirt. I spell out my name, then brush it away. “People don’t like him very much.”
“Who cares what they think?” he says, making me look at him. He gives me a warm smile, one that says I shouldn’t care as much as I do. “Unless there’s a reason, then it’s just people being stupid.”
I think back to when he let Rachel tell him stories last year, before he broke off from her group. He believed in what people said. He wanted to be the cool kid.
“That makes you stupid, you know,” I point out.
To my surprise, he laughs. “Maybe when I first moved here, but I’m smarter now.” He doesn’t see the smile on my face, so his disappears. “Is there something you’re not telling me about your dad?”
Alarm shoots through my body, a weight pressing down on my chest until I’m silently gasping for air. I swallow hard, blinking the sudden question. I should have expected it.
I shouldn’t have said anything.
“I was just wondering,” I bite out, doing what I see Mama do all the time. I may not see the weight on her shoulders, but the way they sag tells me the world is resting on them when Daddy asks her to do something for him.
I wonder if Bash believes me because all he does is stare. I force myself to stay still, when I really want to fidget.
“Okay,” he finally says quietly. “But we’re friends, Opal. Right?”
I nod quickly. Bash is the only true friend I have. Thinking about what it was like before he was in my life makes my heart tighten in my chest.
“Friends can tell each other anything,” he tells me, finally looking back up at the sky. It relieves some of the stress as soon as his eyes focus on anything other than me. I look up, too, suddenly happy to watch the cloudy sky.
“You can tell me anything,” he concludes with the tip of his head. “I’ll always be here for you, Opal.”
Our hands find each other again as we lie back on the grass. The cool breeze kissing my skin causes me to close my eyes, and I absorb the tingling I get from Bash’s palm.
We’re like that for a long time before Mama’s voice cuts through the peace. I know that I need to go, that I can’t push my luck with her anymore than I have. But being with Bash is the only place I can be happy.
He lets go of my hand first. “You should go.”
“I know.”
We stay where we are until Mama calls again. Looking at him, I study his face as he stares back, finding comfort in the color of his brown eyes. He gives me strength to comply, because I know that Daddy would let me see him if I listened to everything they said.
Sitting up, I sigh. “I don’t know when Mama will let us hang out again,” I admit. He stands up first, pulling me off the ground.
His look eases everything. “We’ll find a way. We always do.”
I finally go to Mama.
Addy is coloring on the back of an old paper menu at the counter of the café as I try reaching out to Kennedy, my best friend, for the sixth time. But just like the other five times I’ve called, she doesn’t answer.
The past three days have been a blur of the same boring routine. Get up, cook breakfast, get Addy ready for school, and go to work until Addy gets home. But now that it’s the weekend I need a babysitter since Noah isn’t here working from home to watch her.
On blind faith, I dial Kennedy’s number one last time hoping she’ll finally pick up. My heart about bursts when she does, then deflates when I hear loud cheering and laughter in the background.
“Ken?” I ask, plugging my free ear up like it’ll help me hear her better.
“Opal?”
“Ken, where are you?” I ask. “I thought you were coming to watch Addy for me while I worked double shifts?”
There’s a loud thumping noise in the background, like bass to a loud techno song. That’s all I need to know to understand she’s not coming.
The noise subsides. “Shit. That was today?”
I close my eyes, my palm flattening against my face. Kennedy has been one of my closest friends since early high school. And when Bash left, she’s been here every step of the way. It isn’t fair for me to be upset with her.
Finally, I reply, “Yeah, it was.”
She curses. “Opal—”
Brushing hair out of my face, I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. You deserve to have fun.”
“You do, too,” she argues.
I nibble my lip. But I can’t.
Addy is one of the best things that happened to me but having her limited everything I wanted to do. But even the smallest thought of what I missed because of her makes guilt crash into me. I never want to think of Addy as an inconvenience, or somebody in the way of missed opportunities.
I’d be too much like my parents then.
“Opal? Are you still there?”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “Have fun, Ken. Don’t worry about Addy and me. We’ll be fine.”
I hang up before she can ask me if I’m sure because I’m certain I’ll change my mind if she did. I’ve always had a plan when it came to life. Maybe it’s because my life has always been planned out. Ever since I could remember, my parents were meticulous about my future, and being the tiny rebel that I am, I defied every single idea they ever had. I made my own future which included my little girl. It seems natural to do the same now, figuring out my own path when life handed me another obstacle.
My mind races with queries as to who can watch Addy, and I before I can really think of a plan I’m dialing Noah’s numbe
r. When he’s away I don’t like bothering him, even though he tells me to call him whenever I need to. I want to believe that I can make decisions on my own, but Noah makes it easier.
“I’ll watch her,” a familiar voice intervenes from behind me.
My body goes still at the vibrato, with the phone pressed tight against my cheek. My heart hammers erratically in my chest, and it hurts as if it’ll propel right out of my ribcage.
Turning, I see the woman I’ve spent so long avoiding. Even in a small town like Clinton, there’s ways to remove people from your life, not having to ever see them around town.
I hang up the phone before it goes to voicemail, unsure of what to say now that I’m in a situation that I had nightmares about for years. Staring at my mother brings back a swarm of unwanted memories.
“Really, Mom?” I bite, glaring at her perfectly styled hair. She started going white a few years ago but dyes it like nobody is supposed to know she’s getting older.
“Opal—”
“You really want to do this right now?” I hiss in a whispered tone, not wanting Addy to hear me. She’s still content in her own world, unknowing that her grandmother is sitting in the same room.
It’s not like they’ve ever met before, so how would she know?
I want to believe the dull tone of her green eyes is from guilt, but I don’t think she’s capable of something as strong as that.
“You honestly think you can just come in here and babysit my child?” I don’t hide the cynicism in my tone and do all I can not to give her a piece of my mind right here and now in front of everyone.
But it’s Addy that keeps me level-headed.
She’s taken aback. “Well … she’s family.”
Fury boils my blood, making me lash out before I can stop myself. “Family you didn’t want!”
“That was your father. He—”
“Kicked me out when I needed you two the most,” I remind her bitterly, eyes narrowing as I step back from her. Being this close to her makes too many emotions rise and none of them are good. I tell myself not to become my father, to let my anger get the best of me.
The Choices We Make (Relentless Book 4) Page 4