purest hearts

⏤ 16 DAYS MISSING.

“Abel?” Monika called his name out as she closed the front door and locked it behind her. Under normal circumstances, she would have rang the doorbell and waited for Abel to answer. But in the days that followed her first visit to his house since Ava’s disappearance, they had fallen into a sort of routine, where she would come by the house and let herself in, as if they had always done this even though it had only been six days. Today, she was greeted by the frantic cries of Bear upstairs instead of Abel’s weary welcome. Crossing the front entranceway, she climbed the stairs to the second floor as she had done so many times in the preceding days, and padded down the hallway to Bear’s nursery. The door was ajar, and it was only when she stepped into the frame that she found Abel standing in the middle of the room holding his son, Bear’s face pink with anger as he cried out, his father holding him at his shoulder. “Oh, goodness,” Monika said softly, stepping into the room. As she moved closer, she held her hands out, indicating to Abel that he could hand the child over to her. She knew his eardrums likely needed the reprieve. “What’s wrong today, sweetness?” she murmured, accepting the infant child as Abel set him in her arms. Once Bear was against her chest, she held him close and began to sway side to side, something she’d learned that helped to soothe the fourteen-month-old. “Hey, there,” she said, smiling up at Abel. “Are we having a rough morning?”

Monika’s fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, her free hand moving to grip the railing of the crib to keep herself upright as Abel held her face in his hands, the pads of his thumbs working over her temples. Her gaze faltered, falling to his chest, then lifting to his mouth. It was his turn to reassure her, and she wanted so badly to believe him when he told her that he was going to be okay. She couldn’t handle the thought of anything happening to him. All of this was difficult enough, she didn’t want to fathom a reality where any harm came to him or his family. It was only when he asked her to look at him that she met his eyes. This close, she could smell the tequila on his breath. She wondered if it’d had any effect on him, on his response to her. “I still care about you,” she murmured softly, acutely aware of the child sleeping a mere foot away from them. “Please don’t push me away. I want to help.”

To hear Abel speak so reverently about his son gave Monika hope that he wasn’t slipping away, falling under the weight of the heavy burden that had come to rest on his shoulders. Not to mention the outside stressors. The rumors around town, the speculation about him. The investigation. Standing here, in Bear’s room, she saw his edges soften. She saw his vulnerability in the dim light. She saw strength in a man who was being beaten down by everyone and everything. And she felt love ⏤ something that had never truly gone away no matter how many years they put between the past and present. “I know I don’t have to do it,” she said softly, her hand stilling as it fell to his lower back. “But I can’t stand by and do nothing, Abel. It kills me to see you like this. You haven’t slept, you haven’t eaten.” He turned to look at her and she couldn’t bring herself to break contact. She needed it, needed to stay tethered to him somehow. Moving her hand, she placed her palm gently on his chest and looked up at him. A sigh fell from her lips. “I’m worried about you.”

A smile formed on Monika’s face. “He definitely has your eyes.” And how fortunate was he, to have inherited his father’s most beautiful physical trait ⏤ the very eyes that were looking at her now in the faint light. Even in the near-darkness she could see his pain shining through them. It hurt her to see him like this, overwrought with doubt, exhausted by everything life had thrown at him in the preceding days. “Some days will be easier than others; some days will be harder,” she said, her hand traveling up and down his spine, still moving in reassuring motions. “But you can’t give up, okay? And you can’t be afraid to lean on me.” A thought crossed her mind ⏤ one she should have given more thought, but in the moment, she was desperate to ease his suffering. “I can stay the night. I’ll stay up and watch Bear, so you can sleep.” It was too much, too soon. Dropping off dinner was one thing, but this was something else entirely. Something she wasn’t sure she would know how to explain to her husband, beyond simply stating that Abel needed help with Bear, and who was she to decline helping a friend whose wife was missing? Fearful she’d overstepped, Monika added: “Please, just tell me how I can help.”

Monika’s hand moved in small motions on Abel’s back in an effort to calm him as he spoke, recounting the night he and Ava had brought their son home for the first time, and the fear that had come with fatherhood. She understood the fear of causing harm to such a tiny being; it had coursed through her the first time she’d held Bear during her and Sebastian’s visit to see the new parents and their beloved child in the days following the birth. Nestled in the crib now, Abel’s son slept peacefully. Monika gazed down at him, amazed by him and how much he’d already grown in the last year. “You don’t need to think about that right now,” Monika whispered in the dark, shifting closer, her hand still working on Abel’s back. “All you need to do is take care of yourself, and take care of him.” It was much easier said than done for him to focus on the present and not worry about the future, but if she didn’t talk him down from the ledge, he’d burn himself out on the stress of what was yet to come. “He’s so beautiful,” she said in an effort to shift his focus to his son and away from the hypotheticals running through his head. “You’re a good father, Abel. He’s lucky to have you.”

The request to accompany him upstairs to check on Bear was not something Monika had expected. Admittedly, she felt out of sorts in the house, due to a combination of her own warring emotions and the fact that they were alone, something he had admitted he didn’t trust. But wasn’t it something she needed to be comfortable with if she was going to help him? He was asking for her assistance now; refusing it seemed callous, selfish. She couldn’t put her feelings ahead of what was needed. Dropping her head, she inhaled deeply before turning to face him. “Okay.” A beat passed between them before either of them moved. “Lead the way?” she asked, prompting him to guide her through the house. She followed him silently as he climbed the stairs to the second floor, trying not to spend too much time focusing on the various framed family photos that lined the wall. There were pictures of Abel and Ava from their engagement photoshoot and wedding, and ones of Bear spanning his growth from newborn up until recently. At the top of the stairs was a gorgeous family portrait that Monika assumed to be somewhat recent, given Bear’s size. She couldn’t stand to look at it any longer than was necessary to register the details. 

Abel stopped before a door along the corridor, pausing before he slowly turned the handle and opened it to reveal Bear’s nursery. The room was dark, but in the faint light in the hallway, Monika could see a crumpled blanket and pillow on the floor. Her heart ached as she watched Abel step over the mess to approach the crib. How many nights had he spent on the floor, lying awake, agonizing over the absence of his wife? Standing in the doorway, Monika felt like she was intruding on the moment, but she couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop herself from entering the room, trailing behind him until she was standing a half-step behind him. Lifting her hand, she placed it on his back as a sign of her wordless support. 

The walk to Bear’s nursery felt endless with Monika’s perfume stuck in his head. He kept his eyes straight ahead with every step, knowing where every picture was placed and just how to avoid it. He’d never wanted to do half the photoshoots that Ava had talked him into. He hadn’t being in front of the camera, despite his years of practice. It was always pretending to be something they weren’t, but perhaps Ava had thought they were. Maybe she truly had believed they were the perfect family and maybe eventually he could’ve too. At least that’s what he always told himself with every day that passed.

It was difficult to hide the tears from him as he pulled away, completely disentangling himself from her. Monika kept her head down, wiping at her cheeks. Don’t apologize. It was all she felt capable of doing in the moment; the only suitable measure to make up for the thoughts racing through her head. She had been the one to start, to lean away first. And yet, she found herself feeling rebuffed by his move to put distance between them. Even if it gave her space to calm her thunderous pulse. She nodded when mentioned checking in on Bear. The house was deathly quiet; for only a moment, she’d forgotten that they weren’t completely alone, and that his son was sleeping upstairs, blissfully unaware of everything, unable to comprehend that his mother was missing and his father was struggling to cope. “Yeah,” she said, sniffling as she turned away from him and toward the counter, resting her hands on the cool marble. Her glass was so close, nearly in reach. “You should check on him. I’ll… I’ll stay here.” If he was going to leave the room, she didn’t want to watch him go. 

Monika’s breath hitched as Abel stood and drew her into an embrace. Her hand on his shoulder fell away to settle tentatively on his back as his arm wound around her, pulling her flush against him. Could he feel her heart hammering in her chest? Could he hear the way her breathing had changed? Could he sense that she was seconds away from breaking down in his arms? Her bottom lip quivered as he thanked her, and her eyes filled with tears once more. Emotion rose steadily in her throat; at the risk of having it all tumble out, she was afraid to speak. But the silence was too much for her to bear. “Of course,” she mumbled into the fabric of his shirt, and immediately resented how her voice cracked on the last syllable. How could she find any comfort in this ⏤ standing here in his arms, in the house he shared with his wife, as ten days had passed without any news of her whereabouts? Ava could be out there somewhere, gravely injured or in a situation far more dire. And here Monika was, comforting the woman’s husband, entertaining such lurid memories, all the while trying to hold it together long enough to avoid making matters worse. Abel had enough on his plate. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly, pulling away slightly. “I’m sorry about Ava. I’m sorry about everything.”

Monika’s heart was in her throat as she regarded him, her pulse a steady rhythm in her ears as her gaze traveled over his face. “I miss you, too,” she whispered, and it still felt deafeningly loud in the silence of his kitchen. The irony of his words was not lost on her. After all, it had been Abel who had left all those years ago, Abel who had moved on, Abel who had married first and started a family. She could never fault him for chasing his dreams, but she still remembered the renewed heartbreak of seeing his picture splashed across the gossip rags at the grocery store checkout, in various paparazzi photos depicting him with different women. And then the news of his engagement to Ava, followed by the Save the Date for their wedding. She had been so happy to see him so content, but she’d never been able to swallow down the grief of losing him completely. Her sadness was palpable now as she looked him in the eye, wordlessly willing him to understand that she’d been here all along, and she wasn’t going anywhere. “You take it one day at a time,” she said, moving her hand to his shoulder, the movement drawing her closer to where he sat. “And I’ll be here. I’m not going to let you go through this alone. I promise.”

How could Monika believe herself to be a bad person for what had transpired between them and not think the same of Abel for his role in it all? It was so much easier to demonize her own actions and the desire that had flowed through her like the tequila was now, making her face warm, loosening her tongue. The alcohol, mixed with a resurgence of the feelings she’d tried to keep at bay for so long, made her feel far more drunk than she could possibly be on tequila alone. God, how could one person get her so flustered, so easily? The effect he had on her was unlike anything she’d experienced with anyone, except for maybe her husband. But as her eyes drifted down to Abel’s lips, and her mind flooded with thoughts of that fateful summer afternoon, she knew that what she felt with each of the two men was incomparable. Incomparable not because she was married to one and mourning the could-have-beens with the other, but because she was just shy of the realization that she’d never truly love Sebastian the way she loved Abel. “You’re not a horrible person,” Monika assured him, reaching out to grasp his arm in a show of physical comfort. “You’re… perfectly human, with complex emotions. That doesn’t make you horrible. It makes you real.” She squeezed his arm lightly, hoping he would accept what she was saying. 

Monika kept her eyes averted from Abel as heat bloomed in her cheeks, a potent combination of the truths they were sharing and the alcohol working through her system. The tremor in her hand was impossible to hide as her fingers brushed across the wetness on her cheek, wiping away the tears that had spilled over. She hated how quick she was to tears. “I still kissed you back. I didn’t have to, but I did. More than once. And I wanted to.” Finally, slowly, her line of sight shifted across the room to him, settling on his face, searching for any indication that she was making a grave mistake, being so honest. It was hardly the time, considering the circumstances. “It doesn’t make me a good person, even if it was one time,” she said quietly, gaze locked on him. Despite the nervous energy flowing through her, she felt bold. Her hand fell to rest atop the counter, inches from his. The desire to touch him was unravelling her on the inside. “But I didn’t care about it in the moment. Because you made me feel good.” A light huff of air passed between her lips, a faint exhale, before she mumbled: “Better than good.”

The relief (and, however slight, satisfaction) of having Abel echo the sentiment that every close call, ever near-miss, had been worth the trouble was washed away by the shock of his admission that he was unsure he’d ever trusted them together. Monika stood frozen before him, fingers stilled around her glass, feeling like she’d had the wind knocked out of her. His words repeated in her head once more: I know I shouldn’t think about it, but I do. Was this the time for her to come clean, to tell him the mistake they’d made was one that had played over in her mind in the days that followed, too, and far beyond that? Tears filled her eyes. She could never truly hide emotion on her face, not when it surfaced like this, in a sudden rush of exhilarating fear. Looking away from him, she fixed her blurry gaze on the entrance to the hallway where it had all happened. “And I shouldn’t have kissed you back. But I did,” Monika replied, blinking furiously to keep the tears from falling. “I wanted it. I wanted you. I don’t know how I live with that.”

“Of course,” Monika said, and allowed the conversation to end there. He had to know that she had been among the volunteers who canvassed the town’s wooded areas. It wasn’t an effort she had been able to participate in with any regularity, as the school year had wound down around the time the daily searches began, but on the days she’d been able to carve out time, she made it a priority. It was the least she could do. Now that she would be lending her time to Abel, she figured her appearances for canvassing would be limited, but both were helpful to maintain the sanity of the family Ava left behind and searching for anything that would help bring her home.

In a way, it would be her way of paying penance for the thoughts that raced through her mind now. The recollection of times spent doing more than stargazing or watching movies. The afternoons spent exploring each other’s bodies in Monika’s narrow bed, learning every freckle and curve, translating each sound the other made. The night he spoke of brought up an intense memory of innocent kissing that led to something far less pure. “We had a lot of close calls,” she murmured, her finger tracing the edge of her glass. “That was definitely the closest. But it was worth it, every time.” It was only when the words left her mouth that she realized how inappropriate the comment was, but there was no way of taking them back. Swallowing another sip of tequila, she glanced away, hoping he wouldn’t see the faint panic in her face.

It was only when he answered her that her gaze returned to his face. What had she expected, if not the truth, that telling his spouse would have posed a risk for their relationship? For similar reasons, she’d elected not to disclose the history they shared to her husband, but mostly out of fear that Sebastian’s jealous nature would rear its ugly head, as it had before. Ava had exhibited a similar air of suspicion before, for things far less serious. So why did it sting to get confirmation that he’d kept them a secret, just as she had? “I, um ⏤ I understand,” she said, nodding slowly. The incident in the laundry room the previous summer came to mind. Tentatively, her voice slightly above a whisper, she added: “There have been times I haven’t trusted us, either.”

A missing wife was one way to tear him down, but if anything happened to Monika too? He’d be downright useless. It wasn’t fair to think like that, but nothing seemed fair anymore. Life was unfair, or so he’d be told by countless people. God, if only they knew how right they actually were. “We did,” he grinned, feeling a slight tug of heat settling in his stomach. It was hard to forget the nights she’d wrapped herself around him on that family couch. If her moms had ever found out, he was sure they’d would’ve burned it to the ground along with everything Monika owned. “It was.” That was something he couldn’t easily agree to. Close calls or not, riding out his high with her had been a feeling unmatched, Ava included. 

The break in her words made his heart beat harder. Did she understand? Did that hurt? He half wondered if she’d ever told her husband, but the nights they’d came over for dinner told him that she hadn’t. If she had, there was no way she’d be there before him, right? “I don’t know that I’ve ever trusted us,” he admitted, eyes still trained on hers. It was as honest as he’d ever been about what lingered between them, but he didn’t expect the same to come from her. She still had her marriage and a husband that should’ve been waiting at home for her return.

Abel’s acceptance of her offer was less emphatic than she’d anticipated it would be, but a simple “fine” sufficed, because it meant that a continued debate about his inability to accept help had been put to rest. They would have to discuss specifics, including the type of work that needed to be done around the house, to free up time for him to spend with his son, and the timing of said assistance, to be mindful of the many sets of eyes that were watching his every move, every reaction as the investigation carried on. But for the time being, Monika was content to have him own up to the fact that he needed an extra set of hands, and that he wasn’t inconveniencing her in the process. 

She was equally grateful that he didn’t push the topic of her husband’s involvement in her emotional affairs surrounding Ava’s disappearance. Sebastian had always exuded an air of friendly competition with Abel, one that the musician sometimes rose to; she supposed it might have been an intrinsic quality about her partner, a natural streak of arrogance that made him a good doctor, that was behind his consistent quest to one-up his company. The prospect of having to explain away his emotional and physical absences any further would have unleashed a torrent of emotion that Monika wasn’t prepared to handle. Not with Abel, and not now. Not when his wife was missing, and not as he poured her more tequila. 

Her eyes lit up as he explained away his past reactions to the mid-range liquor. “Excuses, excuses,” she said with a wave of her hand. It was easy to speak of their past in a sentimental albeit detached manner, like it happened to someone else, a million years ago. But Monika knew the feelings she’d had for him as a teenager ⏤ that can’t sleep, can’t eat kind of young love ⏤ had never truly faded, even after he’d left to pursue a career in music. Even after he’d married another woman. “I think my moms knew a lot more than they let on. That twin bed creaked something fierce, and the walls were pretty thin. They trusted us.” She accepted her refill from him with a quiet thank you and swirled the clear tequila around in her glass, grinning over at him. All efforts to reminisce without the stab of regret were quickly foiled as his recounting of the great Thanksgiving disaster gave way to other memories. Her grin faltered as she thought about the firsts they shared. Abel had been her first love, her first kiss, her first heartbreak. Her first everything. It had been a careful detail she’d omitted to anyone when he’d come back into her life all of those years after he left their hometown for Los Angeles. She wasn’t sure where the lie had begun, but once they’d committed to it, there was no going back. “Did Ava know?” she asked quietly, pausing in need of another sip of liquid courage to continue. “Did you ever tell her about us?”

He couldn’t help but wonder if Ava was actually going to come back. He’d watched enough crime shows to know how this all worked. Twenty four hours missing was a start, but anything over seventy two was nothing but bad news. It’d been ten whole days and nothing had been found, not even the smallest of leads. He would’ve been a downright idiot not to consider the facts, but Abel was hopeful. She couldn’t be anything other than missing, perhaps lost? Maybe she’d gone for a run after work and took a fall? Or maybe she was desperate for some time alone? Anything would’ve made more sense than her demise.

Abel couldn’t fight the rage that bubbled in his chest. Perhaps there was a hint of jealousy buried deep too. How did one man get the pleasure of loving Monika and the satisfaction of missing another. Then again, if roles were reversed, he would’ve been searching every damn square mile of their town and everywhere else around them. In terms of looking for his own wife, they’d practically begged him not to. They wanted him separate from the case itself, only leaving him to believe that he too was being considered a suspect. “Be careful out there,” he added, not wanting to push any further on the topic. If Sebastian gave a shit, he would’ve already given that warning. Odds were, he hadn’t.

Monika was well aware of how it looked ⏤ to the community, to police, to anyone who had caught wind of the case. When a woman went missing, everyone looked to the man in her life. It’s always the husband. The adage had been repeated all over town any number of times in the preceding ten days, each repetition more cruel than the last. It didn’t help that Abel was a public figure, or that his wife was the particular brand of beautiful and innocent that the media loved to canonize. But Monika had looked into his heart before, and although the time that stretched between the present and their lovesick teenage years was long enough to have allowed them to move apart and move on, she knew he was innocent. If his mother couldn’t be bothered, at the risk of having her sabotage her business, Monika wanted to be the one to step up, and she felt comfortable making the proposition. “So let me help. Cooking, laundry, watching Bear. The school year’s over; I just finished report cards last night. I have the time. And there’s hardly a line forming behind me,” she added, teasing lightly. “Say yes.”

The private investigator seemed like a viable approach to filling in the gaps. While she trusted that he had done the homework to hire someone competent and capable of handling such a sensitive case, she hoped that he hadn’t been blinded by his desire for answers. She wasn’t sure he could handle such a devastating blow if the investigation turned up nothing. With a nod, she allowed herself another sip of tequila, wincing once more as it slid across her tongue. She needed to pace herself; she was already feeling light-headed in his presence. The twitch in his jaw tipped her off that he was less than pleased about Sebastian’s methods for handling things, but she said nothing. She had already quietly accepted it. No amount of explaining would change Abel’s mind. “He’s checking on me, too,” she lied, before finishing off the tequila in her glass. So much for taking it slow. Heat crept into her face as she watched him scrub a hand through his beard, her eyes following the movement of his fingers as he recounted a tale from their past. “You scared the shit out of me. I was somehow more scared about you than the punishment we were going to get from our moms for drinking,” Monika said lowly, a faint smile pulling at her lips as she recalled the memory. It was funnier in hindsight. “And yet we went straight back to it,” she added, sliding her empty glass closer to him for a refill. A wordless indication that she wasn’t ready to quit. “That’s a common thread here, isn’t it? Everything coming full circle.”

The offer wasn’t entirely unexpected, but hearing the words fall from her lips still caught a knot to form in the pit of his stomach. How shitty was it that he wanted to say yes? That he felt like doing so would heal something within him? Seeing her around more? God, what more did he need? Other than his wife coming home to rekindle the marriage that had started to fall apart before them. Did Ava spend her final normal days thinking he’d fallen out of love with her? Had she wondered where their marriage was headed? Or had the stress of a child been the blame behind the petty arguments and late nights without sleep? Was she somewhere wondering if he was even looking? “Fine,” he replied, against every pulling force in his mind telling him no. It was a bad idea; bad for the press and bad for her marriage. There was no way Sebastian would allow her to play helpful friend to the man she’d once loved. Then again, did he even know their past? For Abel, he wasn’t even sure it mattered. It’d always felt like a silent pissing contest, but Ava had just assured it was the man’s personality type. Don’t worry, babe. He’s just screwing with you. Right, Ava. He is and it’s working.

Monika’s expression sobered as Abel aired his frustrations. She couldn’t fault him for feeling the pressures of handling it all on his own, especially with the watchful eyes of the town on him. The rumors had been vicious. “Anyone questioning your ability to take care of your son is not anyone you should be paying any mind to,” she said, voice unwavering in her conviction. “This is your life and your son, Abel, not theirs. The police are trying to be helpful, but they can’t put themselves in your shoes. They don’t know what it feels like.” There was some truth to the suggestion that had been set forth by the people investigating. “Have you considered maybe having Debra stay here? She could help out, and it would save her the drive into town.” She hoped he would see the benefit of having his mother nearby, rather than the prospect of sending his son away. It was a compromise, in a way; extra help without losing anything, except maybe his solitude.

The news that he’d hired a private investigator didn’t surprise her. It was a logical step given his frustrations with the police. “That’s good,” she affirmed. “I hope he finds something. Good news.” There was no real way of knowing if the local force was doing everything they possibly could. Magnolia Gardens hadn’t seen such a high-profile disappearance in what had to be at least a decade, long before Monika called it home. “Sebastian?” Monika asked, clarifying his question, as if he could be implying anyone else in the world. “No, he’s at the hospital. He scheduled surgeries tonight. He’s… been keeping busy.” He’s been avoiding me, she wanted to say, but managed to bite back. Abel had enough on his plate, she didn’t need to bring her marital disquiet into the mix. “I think he’s taking it hard. You know they’re close. He thinks the world of Ava.” Her thumb brushed against the inside of his wrist then, as if to say like I think the world of you, before she pulled away under the guise of reaching for her drink. Her eyes didn’t leave his as she took a sip of the tequila. It was just like she’d remembered, maybe worse, a cool fire burning down the back of her throat. She grimaced slightly. “Just like old times.”

When you’d spent over the last ten years in the spotlight, it was hard to have spotless reputation. If anyone came close to it though, it would’ve been him. He didn’t bother with scandals, parties, drugs, or anything that most artists seemed to dabble in upon wealth. He’d kept his head down and made more music than any newcomer could’ve ever dream of. Still, straight and narrow or not, everyone would question a man with everything to gain from a missing wife. “I feel like one minute they’re wanting to help me, the next they’re wanting to interrogate me.” He couldn’t blame them; he knew how it looked. Had he been on the other side of it, he would’ve thought the same damn thing. “I can’t do that. She’s got the business to keep up. I know she’d close it down for however long I needed, but I can’t let her do that. She worries enough and I know if she stays here, it’ll just give her more to worry about.” As much as it would’ve helped to have a helping hand, he couldn’t afford to let his mother see him so weak. It’d break her.

“Why are you resistant to accepting help? Is it pride, or are you scared about how it’ll look? Is that it? You’re afraid of looking weak? Your wife is missing, Abel. You’re allowed a moment of weakness. You don’t have to be strong through all of this.” No matter how carefully she chose her words, how gently she delivered them, Monika knew her urging would sound a little harsh. But he had to accept the reality that he couldn’t do it all alone. No one in his position could. It was too much to bear on his own, and he wasn’t able to self-destruct when he had a child to care for. “You have a son that needs you, and if you keep burning the candle at both ends, you’re going to burn out. And then what? He needs you.“ She regarded him carefully, searching for any sign that maybe she’d overstepped, even though she knew he needed to hear it. 

Instead, his fingers played delicately along her palm to no particular rhythm, fingertips exploring her skin. Monika’s lips pressed together, her expressing belying the sudden uptick in her heart rate. “We don’t have any answers. It’s not fair to speculate,” she said softly, straining to keep her voice even. “I’m sure the police are exploring every possibility. That’s their job, not yours. I know it’s easier said than done, but you can’t get caught up in all of the what ifs.” Rich coming from her, given the hours she’d lost to ruminating on every possibility that could have existed between the two of them. One change along the way and they would be living very different lives than they were now. “It’s good to see you, too. I wish it was under better circumstances.” If she didn’t move, she was certain they’d spend the next half-hour like this, his fingertips accelerating her pulse, her eyes watching him as he fixed his gaze on their point of contact. “You should eat before your food gets cold,” she said, making no effort to shift away from him. The ice in her drink was melting; she could hear it shifting in the glass just out of reach. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, frustrated slightly by her ability to pull whatever the hell she wanted to know straight from his stubborn lips. “I don’t want anyone questioning my ability to take care of Bear, even for a second. My cops keep telling me that maybe it’s a good idea he stay with my mom until this is sorted. Who the hell are they to tell me what’s best for my kid?” He’d never been a fighter, but when it came to his son? He’d fight until the end of time. Maybe he was learning the ropes of a single parent, but not once had he neglected his son, emotions spiraling or not. Nodding, Abel swallowed down all protests, defeated by her bold statement that rang too close to the broken home he was trying to keep standing. “I need him too.” He’d never needed anyone the way he needed his son. If someone was going to come close to that though, it was Monika. It would always be Monika.