Finding my way back to Lila, being with her again like this, was worth a thousand deaths.
I was Odysseus. Her Odysseus. After all these long years of being shipwrecked, of fighting monsters and demons and losing battles, I had finally found my way home again. Only this time, I was home to stay.
“It’s been so long,” she said softly.
“Too long,” I agreed. Framing her face in my hands, I kissed her lips.
I love you. Only you.
Chapter Forty-Three
Lila
“Let me go,” I said, laughing, the Nerf football still clutched to my chest. “I have to check on the dinner.”
“The longer it simmers, the better it tastes. Sloooow burn, baby.” He gave me a playful smack on the ass before he released me but not before wrestling the football out of my hands and passing it to Noah who streaked across the back yard and tossed the ball through the tire swing, shouting “Touchdown!”
I was laughing as I crossed the back yard and went inside the kitchen, inhaling the smoky, spicy aroma of chili. Jude made it and it had been simmering in the slow cooker since this morning. Chili was his specialty, and I was still trying to coax his secret recipe out of him.
In the back of my mind, alarm bells were ringing. This was bad. We were getting too comfortable. It had been a week since our date, and we’d spent all our evenings together. We ate dinner together, took turns reading bedtime stories to Noah. I hadn’t let him sleep over since our date but after Noah was asleep, we hung out. Watching movies, fucking, falling in love all over again.
So quickly, we’d fallen into a routine. Today was Saturday and I had to work, so Jude had spent the day with Noah.
While I shredded cheddar cheese and chopped green onions for the toppings, I watched him playing football with Noah. Jude was so good with him. I always knew he’d be a good dad.
Oh, my God, what was I thinking? He wasn’t Noah’s dad. I needed to stop picturing us as a family.
Jude’s cell phone on the counter buzzed, dragging my attention away from the window.
Jude had this habit of emptying his pockets when he came home. Home. Not that this was home, but he’d been spending a lot of time here and he’d gotten comfortable. Reverted to old habits. So his wallet, keys and cell phone were sitting on the kitchen counter.
His cell phone buzzed with another message and curiosity got the best of me. Picking up his phone, I read the messages.
Victor: Well, fuck man, where you been? Bianca’s been asking about you.
Victor: You still fighting? I’ve got something for you. Shitload of money riding on it. Call me.
I stared at the screen and waited for another text but none came through. What did that mean? Who was Bianca? And what kind of fighting was this guy talking about? It struck me how little I really knew about Jude’s life.
We hadn’t even talked about what he’d been doing for the past six years.
I glanced out the window again then back at the screen. I tried to unlock it, using different combinations of the password he used to use. My birthday. I wasn’t sure why I felt so bereft that he no longer used that as his password. I shouldn’t even be trying to break the code and read his messages. I set it down and picked up his wallet, turning it over in my hand. I’d given it to him for Christmas one year. The leather was cracked and worn now. I opened it, not entirely sure what I was searching for. Clues to the man I didn’t know anymore, I guess.
I eased the photos out of one of the slots and flipped through them. They were all of me. God, how had I ever been that young, I thought as I stared at my senior year photo. He’d been carrying these snapshots around for years. Something fluttered to the floor and I leaned down to pick it up. It was folded into a small square and even as I held it in my hand, I knew what it was. I unfolded it and set it on the counter, smoothing my hand over the creases. As if I needed another painful reminder.
A vise squeezed my heart and I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs. I sagged against the counter and closed my eyes, the photo taking me back to a place and time I’d tried to forget.
“Holy shit. That’s our baby’s heartbeat,” Jude said in awe, like he couldn’t quite believe it.
“It certainly is,” the doctor said with a smile.
Jude squeezed my hand, dragging my attention away from our baby on the monitor to his face. “I love you.”
I smiled through my tears and pushed aside my worries. He loved me and I loved him, and we could get through this rough patch. Together. “I love you more.”
We were going to be okay. This baby would give him a reason to live. Something to fight for.
“I won’t let you down, Rebel,” he said as we left the doctor’s office, his arm slung across my shoulders.
Before I climbed into the passenger seat of his truck, he framed my face with his hands and pressed a soft kiss on my lips. “I promise I’ll be there for you every step of the way. I promise I’ll be better. For you. For our baby. We’re going to be a family.”
The oven timer went off, dragging me back to the present. With shaky hands, I tucked the photos back into his wallet, returning everything to the place where I found them. Taking a few calming breaths, I grabbed the oven mitts and took the cornbread out of the oven.
Then I called Jude and Noah in for dinner, and I tried to pretend that everything was okay. That another little piece of my heart hadn’t just been ripped out.
How much could two people be
