Unworthy

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Unworthy Page 6

by Evans, A. K.


  After we’d gotten home and I put away my groceries, I got Tate undressed and ready for his bath. It was approaching his bedtime and he was in a routine. I tried my best to never mess with that either because it only ever resulted in him being crabby, which ultimately led to me being crabby.

  Following Tate’s bath, I read him a book and nursed him.

  As he started to drift off to sleep, my mind began to wander. It brought me right back to the encounters I had with Trent this week. My heart ached.

  “Mommy made a really big mistake, baby boy,” I whispered to my sleeping son. “And I don’t know how I’m ever going to fix it.”

  I held my baby a little longer that night before settling him in his crib. Once I had done that, I went about getting myself ready for bed. I didn’t expect I’d find sleep easily, but my mind needed the break.

  That night, cuddled up alone under my blankets, I thought back to the time I had with Trent in high school. I recalled the way he used to look at me. I remembered the way it felt to have him hold me. And I reminisced about the times we spent at our spot—laughing, talking, kissing, touching, and falling in love.

  No sooner did those good thoughts filter through my mind when the look on Trent’s face and the angry words he said to me tonight seeped in and robbed me of the brief happiness. I didn’t recognize the man he was tonight. He was somebody else.

  And I knew I was responsible for that.

  “Is there any way you can pick Tate up from daycare?” I asked.

  “No,” Keith replied. “You’re supposed to be delivering him here to me.”

  I sighed. He could get Tate; he was purposely making this difficult for me for no reason at all. At least, no good reason. Keith, I’m certain, felt his actions were justified.

  “Well, then I’m going to be late getting there, which ultimately will put our son off his routine. Why can’t you put your hurt feelings aside for a minute and do what’s in his best interest?”

  Without hesitating, Keith fired back, “Because we have an arrangement, Delaney. You need to bring him to me when you have him, and I need to deliver him back to daycare on Monday morning after he’s been with me.”

  “Stop saying deliver. He’s a baby, not a pizza,” I shot back. “Fine. Whatever. Don’t help. He’ll be coming to you, so when he’s fussy, you’ll have yourself to blame. I’ve got to go so I can finish here. I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”

  I disconnected the call, scrolled through my phone, and tapped on Gloria’s name.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Gloria,” I greeted her. “Is there any way you’d be able to help me out and pick Tate up from daycare? I’m running late at work and won’t get there on time.”

  “Sure. I’ll run and get him now.”

  “You’re a lifesaver. Thanks so much. I’ll text you when I leave.”

  She brushed it off and disconnected with me so she could go pick up my son.

  I thanked my lucky stars that I was fortunate enough to have such an amazing friend. I met Gloria years ago. Her husband, Ozzy, worked for Keith. The four of us had gotten together on a few occasions when Keith and I were still together. When things fell apart between us, they found a way to remain neutral. Or, at least, Ozzy had. Gloria made it very clear to me that she was on my side.

  Looking around the bathroom, I saw how much work I had left and decided I’d better get to it if I was going to finish at a reasonable hour.

  As I had discussed with Keith when I separated from him, I worked through my pregnancy for his business. He accommodated my requests to either make sure someone else was around if he was still at the location I needed to look at or he was certain to not be around when I needed to be. I believed part of him thought that if he honored my wishes, I would take him back. Unfortunately for him, that was not the case.

  Once Tate was born, I stopped working. I took the next three months off and devoted them to my son. I had been saving my money all through the pregnancy and had already made sure I had enough set aside to cover rent until he was at least six months old. I wouldn’t be able to remain unemployed much beyond the three-month mark without having to worry about how I was going to cover my expenses, so I actively started searching for jobs when he was two months old.

  I ended up being able to lock down a position in the same industry I’d known inside and out. Unfortunately, it was not as an interior designer.

  I was now a tile layer.

  When I worked, I spent my days laying tiles, stone, or marble in bathrooms, kitchens, patios, and the occasional swimming pool. It wasn’t easy work, but I knew how to do it. So, I kept a roof over my head and food in my son’s belly by working my butt off. On the bright side, the work was great for helping me get rid of the last few stubborn pounds of baby weight. And I still liked that I was helping a space in a home come together. Sure, I would have liked being able to decide what tiles or stone were being used, but I didn’t have that option right now.

  An hour after I was supposed to be done, I finally finished up the bathroom I was working on. I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, noting just how awful I looked. Not only were my clothes covered in dust, dirt, and dried cement, but my face also showed signs of the job hazards and my utter lack of sleep.

  Between occasional nighttime feedings for Tate and the demands of my job, I was constantly tired. Now, with the constant worry over the last few days about what I’d done to Trent, it had only gotten worse.

  Today was Friday, though. So, after I took Tate to his dad’s house tonight, I’d come home and try to get to bed early.

  I cleaned up my supplies and left. Once I was in my car, I sent a text to Gloria to let her know I was on my way to pick up Tate.

  Once I was on the road, I made a call to Keith.

  “Are you here?” he greeted me.

  I rolled my eyes. “No, Keith. I just left work about five minutes ago. I’m going to pick Tate up and then I’ll be there.”

  “You’re messing with my schedule now, Delaney.”

  He was full of himself. Keith was never a planner. Unless it was for a property he was building, he was the most easy-going guy. He didn’t have a schedule. He had an agenda right now and that had everything to do with making my life as difficult as possible.

  “Well, I’m sorry. I was at work. That is why I called you and told you that you could pick Tate up from daycare, which isn’t something I would have preferred since I wouldn’t get to see him until Monday after work then. But that was a sacrifice I was willing to make for the sake of our son.”

  He ignored that and went on to threaten, “I’m going to have to take this to my attorney. You’ve cut into my time with him by being late.”

  “What are you planning to accomplish by telling your attorney this?”

  He was silent.

  Silent long enough for me to know that I wasn’t going to like his response.

  “I want more time with Tate,” he started. “I’m going to ask that he proceed with arranging for a custody agreement that is more favorable.”

  “Favorable for who?” I shrieked. “You?”

  “He’s my son. I deserve just as much time with him as you do.”

  “And I’m still breastfeeding him, Keith. If he’s with you more, it’s going to be difficult to make sure he continues to get that. I want to breastfeed him for a year. You know that. You agreed that it was what was best for him, too.”

  “I still do believe it’s best for him,” he shot back. “If you want to make this easier on everyone involved, especially our son, maybe you should reconsider this separation.”

  I was so angry I couldn’t see straight. He was trying to manipulate me, which was something I wasn’t prepared to listen to. “That’s not an option,” I retorted. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll be there soon.”

  I pulled the phone from my ear, glanced down to end the call, and tossed the phone to the side. That’s when I heard the loud crash and my body jolted forward. My arms
tensed on the steering wheel and I just barely avoided smashing my face on it.

  Fuck.

  This was not what I needed right now.

  I sat there in my seat a moment, attempting to catch my breath. I closed my eyes and took a few breaths in an effort to calm my shaking body. When I glanced up, I saw I’d hit a beautiful, shiny, practically brand-new truck.

  Perfect.

  Just as I was about to unfasten my seatbelt and get out so that I could assess the damage, my door opened and a very familiar voice asked, “Are you alright?”

  I snapped my head to the side and saw Trent lowering his body down beside me.

  The second he realized it was me, his body locked.

  What were the chances?

  I hadn’t seen him once in fifteen years, but now I’d seen him three times in less than a week. And it wasn’t for lack of trying. I tried. Right after I left my father’s house, I tried looking for him. I realized that he went into the military, and I never knew if or when he’d be back. Then, after I met another man and committed myself to him, I decided to stop looking. And ever since my life had been really busy.

  But I never stopped thinking about Trent.

  “I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “It was my fault. I’ll pay to fix your truck.”

  Trent’s eyes immediately darted to the back seat. He let out a sigh of relief, which I found heartwarming. He’d been worried that Tate was in the car with me. Then, he glanced over to his truck before he looked back at my car, which had significantly more damage. His eyes lingered a bit on my steering wheel.

  “Are you okay?” he asked again when his eyes returned to mine.

  “Physically? Yes.”

  A look of confusion washed over him. It was there only briefly. He quickly shook it off and wondered, “Did you hit your head?”

  “No.”

  “Can you move?”

  Nodding, I replied, “I think so.”

  I removed my seatbelt and shifted in the seat. Trent took a step back so I could get out. Once I was steady on my feet, he urged, “Let’s move over there out of the way of traffic.”

  Trent and I walked over to the side of the road while he pulled out his phone.

  “Hey, Logan,” he said. “Trent Michaels. You still have access to a wrecker?”

  A wrecker?

  “Yeah, can I send you a location for a pick up?”

  What was he picking up?

  “Thanks. I’ll let you know what’s being done with it shortly.”

  After giving Logan the location of the pick up, Trent disconnected the call, moved to his truck, and set up a few road flares. When he finished and walked back to where I was standing, he looked down at me and shared, “I’ve got a guy who will get your car towed out of here. I’ll give you all his information and you can decide what you want done with it from there.”

  He was taking care of me again. Even after I’d made it so there was nothing left to break in him.

  My throat was tight when I replied, “Thanks.”

  He dipped his chin and noted, “Looks like you’re going to need a ride.”

  I glanced back at my car. I didn’t know what was wrong with it specifically, but there was smoke coming out from under the hood. The front end had substantial damage and the hood was crunched so badly it would have blocked my view even if the engine didn’t have a problem.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Um, I need to grab my phone.”

  Trent didn’t reply.

  I walked toward the passenger side door of my car and struggled to get it open. The front end had been pushed back so far it was difficult to get the door open. I finally accomplished that task and dug my phone out.

  I figured I’d make the dreaded phone call first.

  “Hello?”

  “Keith, I’m sorry. I’m going to be late. I was on my way to pick up Tate and I just got into an accident.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  I’m fine. Thanks, asshole.

  “No, I’m not kidding.”

  He sighed. “So, what time can I expect to see my son tonight?”

  I shook my head, feeling such disappointment. “I don’t know. I have to wait for a tow truck, and I need to call Gloria to come and give me a ride.”

  “This is unbelievable.”

  “What do you want from me, Keith? I wasn’t paying attention because I was upset from my phone call with you!”

  “Don’t blame me for this. You were the one driving. I’ll be sure to add this to the list of things I need to discuss with my attorney if you plan to keep pushing forward with this separation.”

  I couldn’t deal with this. “You do that. I’ve got to go.”

  Disconnecting with him, I started scrolling to Gloria’s name when Trent offered, “I can give you a ride home.”

  The irony of it was just too much. I wanted to cry but instead started laughing. Trent was looking at me like he thought I was crazy. He wouldn’t have been too far off the mark. When my laughter died down, he hurled an insult.

  “I should have known better than to think you’d accept a ride from me.”

  There was no longer any laughter left in my face. I shook my head and said softly, “I’m sorry for laughing. I just thought it was ironic that you said those exact words to me nearly sixteen years ago.”

  “I’m surprised you remember that,” he muttered.

  I swallowed hard before I rasped, “I remember every word you’ve ever said to me.”

  Trent gave me a look of disbelief. “Right. It’s up to you. The offer stands. I can get you home to your kid and your man if you want.”

  My man.

  Now I really did want to laugh. I decided against doing that and explained, “I need to pick Tate up at Gloria’s. She got him from daycare because his father wouldn’t. Once I get Tate, I need to take him to his father’s house. There is no man waiting for me at my place.”

  Trent’s face, which had been hard, softened a touch. There was a hint of surprise there, too.

  Before he could say anything, the tow truck pulled up.

  “Get what you need out of your car and hop in my truck,” he instructed. “I’ll deal with this.”

  I nodded my understanding and did as he said, grabbing my purse and the base for Tate’s car seat.

  Once my car was loaded on the flatbed and Trent had gotten back in his truck, I repeated, “I’m sorry again about your truck. I’ll give you my number and if you could just please let me know what the cost of the damage is, I’ll pay to fix it. I really don’t want to submit it to my insurance.”

  Trent ignored that, too, and asked, “Where are we going?”

  Okay, so it seemed he just wanted to get this over with. I couldn’t say I blamed him. If he had said to me what I said to him years ago—completely breaking me—I probably wouldn’t have been able to look at him, let alone offer him a ride somewhere.

  I gave him the address to Gloria’s place, and he took off.

  We hadn’t been driving for more than two minutes when he surprised me by asking, “Why do you look like you’ve been working at a construction site all day?”

  I let out a small laugh and said, “Because I have been.”

  “What?”

  Looking over at him, I clarified, “I’m a tile layer.”

  Trent had just stopped at a red light. He looked over at me. “Come again?”

  “A tile layer. I install tiles, stone, and marble in homes. Sometimes, I do a business, but I mostly work in homes.”

  “I thought you wanted to be an interior designer.”

  The fact that I had the urge to laugh at regular intervals during this conversation was becoming alarming. I tried to ignore that and instead answered, “Sometimes, life has other plans. I used to be one. Shit happened. Now I’m not.”

  Trent drove the remainder of the way to Gloria’s in silence.

  When we arrived, he walked with me to the front door. Gloria opened, holding my unhappy little guy in her arms,
and saw the two of us standing there.

  Her eyes narrowed, assessing the both of us.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I started, reaching for Tate. “I was on my way when I got into an accident. I hit Trent’s truck. My car had to be towed. And now I’m extra late getting Tate to Keith’s. To top it off, Keith was already supremely pissed at me for being late. This has just made it worse.”

  “I’ll get Tate’s bag and car seat,” she declared.

  She walked away and I stood there in the doorway trying to calm my fussy baby. When she got back, she held out the seat that I always left at Tate’s daycare for situations just like this. Before I could take anything from her shoulder, Trent reached for it and the seat.

  I couldn’t process that, so I asked, “Has he been like this since you got him?”

  She nodded. “They said they gave him a bottle a little bit before I picked him up, but it’s been a while. I think he needs to eat.”

  “Did they give you any of the milk I have there for him?”

  She shook her head. “I gave him a few of those puff things, but it’s not been enough to hold him over.”

  I sighed. “Okay. Thanks again for getting him. I’ve got to get going so I can get him over there.”

  “Call me later,” she ordered. I knew she wanted to know what was going on but obviously couldn’t ask then not only because I was so late, but also because Trent was standing right there.

  “I will.”

  With that, I turned and started walking back toward Trent’s truck.

  “I’m really sorry about this,” I lamented. “He’s super fussy. I need to stop home and get his milk and food. I pumped and gave it to them at daycare so I’d be able to take it with me to his dad’s tonight. I hadn’t expected to work late, and Gloria didn’t know to get it.”

  Trent opened the back door and urged, “Get in and fill his belly now while I try to install this contraption.”

  I stared up at him, unmoving.

  “Swee…Delaney, feed your baby.”

  He was going to call me sweet cheeks.

  The pain of losing that slashed through me. Doing my best to ignore the pain, I hopped in the backseat and worked quickly to free my breast and feed my baby. Once Tate was squared away, I glanced over to Trent. He was staring at me. It wasn’t in a perverted way. He was looking at me feeding my son and it was like he thought I was performing brain surgery. Trent looked up, saw me watching him, and apologized, “Sorry.”

 

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