#co-parenting

Lifting up Suede’s hand, you kiss over his welts and swollen skin. He had finally gone to sleep a little bit ago, and now you get to fully look over his pitiful body. Eyes puffy, nearly swollen shut, while welts dot over his exposed skin in a grotesque painful looking way. Putting his arm down, you glance over at Audrey who is nodding off to sleep. Lifting up her hand where a pretty pink bandage now resides to kiss her sting as well. She was a trooper through it all.

“Mommy, I’m sleepy,” she groans, looking up at you. You know how tired she is, her eyes tell you everything. She looks towards Andy, and then at you. He has been amazing. Calm, and rational, while you’ve been a ball of emotions. “Can Andy hold me like you are Suede so I can sleep?”

It hadn’t ever occurred to you how much Andy stepped back more with Audrey. Not because he didn’t like her or wasn’t comfortable, but because she has a voice, and she has a great relationship with her father. So instead of forcing, Andy waits on her. “If it’s okay with him, why don’t you ask?”

“Andy,” she sleepily says looking at him. He already leans back in the chair, but waits for her to actually ask him, “Can you hold me, so I can sleep?”

“Of course, princess,” you hold her hand, so she can jump off the exam table, and she wobbles one time before she gets to Andy, and he picks up your abnormally small daughter, and lets her koala on him, using his shoulder as a resting spot for her head. It’s nearly instantly her breathing changes.

“Thank you,” you sigh, wiping tears from your eyes. You thought you loved Andy, but seeing him in dad mode makes you love him more. It still shocks you just how much you do love him in this state, “Not just for that, but today. All of it. It was a good day, until it wasn’t.”

“Were you aware of his allergy to bees?” You shake your head no, and tears steadily stream down your cheeks. It is just another thing to add to his growing list. Food allergies were terrifying, but you still had ways to control them. Bees are something you can't. You can’t keep him inside, locked up in a bubble.

“Honey,” Andy coos, trying to soothe you from afar, and you shake your head in frustration. Wiping away the saline trails that stain your face.

“No, being a mother is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and I love it. But seeing him like this, and how he was earlier; Andy, I could have lost him.”

“But we didn’t,” a new round of never ending tears flow freely, and he doesn’t even realize what those two letters mean to you. We. You didn’t have to do this alone. You didn’t have to sit here with Suede, while Scott took Audrey home. You didn’t have to carry all this emotion and responsibility alone.

“Seeing him like that never gets easier.”

“How many times have you had to use the EpiPen?”

“That was just the second time. But it was somehow worse. It happened so fast, and I could see him straining to breathe, and he just couldn’t. And he was just looking up at me, so scared, and in so much pain. Seventeen times,” you lament. “He was stung seventeen times. And everything was rushing around us, and all I could see was my baby unable to just breathe. Allergies suck.”

“Fuck allergies,” you snort out a laughter as you brush back Suede’s curls. Even swollen, he is one of the most beautiful babies you’ve ever seen. Him and Audrey tied. Everyone thinks their own children are beautiful, but you just know, you have the most beautiful babies ever.

Andy stands abruptly when the door opens, followed by the doctor. Audrey never stirs, and he holds her tighter. It was such a fluid motion, like he was meant to be a father. Standing at attention for any news. “Alright, Mr. And Mrs. Huffman,” Andy rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything. The doctor thought the kids were his, and that’s all he cares about. Even if the last name annoyed him.

“I think it’s safe to say that Suede is allergic to bees for now. Here’s a prescription for a new EpiPen, and we’ve got him scheduled for a visit with his allergist. He needs to be tested again,” you assumed that was coming, and you dread it.

“Is there a possibility he isn’t allergic and it was because of the amount of stings?” Out of the corner of your eyes you see Andy slowly rub over Audrey’s back. Whether it was to keep her asleep or his own anxiety, you’re not sure, but in a weird way it soothes you.

The doctor sighs, “It’s possible of course, but you still need to go to the allergist. Other than that, he’s fine. He’ll probably need to do a sinus wash, give him his antihistamine, monitor him, but other than that, he’s free to go,” you nod. Overwhelmed, and exhausted yourself. Scooting to the edge of the exam table before Andy steps over, holding out his hand.

“Mrs. Huffman, I see you look defeated, and you shouldn’t be. He’s a strong boy, and you reacted quickly. You did everything that you could to prevent anything terrible. Don’t beat yourself up. Your son is a happy healthy boy because of how you two are raising him,” Andy beams. Standing up straighter, but then he looks at you, softening his smile as he helps you off the table. “Suede deserves lots of rest, and may I suggest mango sorbet?”

“We’ll keep that in mind, doctor. Thank you,” his words lift so much pressure off your back. Exhausted didn’t even begin to describe the way you feel. Exhaustion laces through every fiber of your body as you and Andy walk out of the ER. His hand firmly planted on the small of your back.

“I should have said that he’s a happy healthy boy because of the way that you have been raising him. Your kids are incredible because of you,” you hate crying. Despise it. And today you have cried so much! “Hey,” you look at Andy as he places Audrey in her seat. Taking so much care, so he doesn’t wake her up, “Can you let me shoulder some of this burden?”

Placing your baby boy in his seat, you peer at Andy from across the car, and nod your head. Clearing your throat, “As long as you let me carry some of your burdens.”

“Doe, I’ve never kept any secrets from you. You know all about my life, my family, and you still want me in yours and their life. But yes, if it gets too hard, we can be each other’s support,” for the first time since you heard Suede’s pained cries, and Audrey’s shrill screams, you smile. This is a difficult situation, but knowing you’re not alone as you trudge through this uncharted territory helps. Things don’t feel so heavy.

Settling into the car, Andy grabs your hand in his own quickly, while you lay up against his shoulder. Just breathing, and just listening to them. All of them. Including Andy.

“Auds, what cha doing?” Andy places another dish in the dishwasher, while Audrey sticks her tongue out, scribbling something on a piece of paper. She sits up on her knees with her face so close to the paper. “Audrey, you’re going to hurt your eyes,” and she sits back a bit more, and looks up at Andy.

“Who is the ban-if again?” Her head twists to the side, looking like a puppy as Andy throws a towel on the counter, walking towards the dinner table. He looks down at the picture Audrey has been coloring, and bites his tongue.

“This is the judge. That is the defense attorney, and this is you, the prosecutor. But what is the ban-if? I can’t remember.”

“Bailiff,” Andy says softly, reaching for his own crayon. He draws a person, and Audrey looks up at him smiling. “Do you remember what they do?”

“Umm,” he tries to make sense of this. Tries to figure out why a four year old is drawing parts of a courtroom for fun when she should be actually playing. Or coloring My Little Ponies or something. Anything but this. “That’s the one that is like a police officer? And they can take criminals back to jail?”

“Yeah, they’re the ones that keep the courtroom safe. Why are you doing this?”

Her brow furrows while she starts drawing figures in the jury box. Pausing to count each one, and Andy lets out a long breath, “Daddy said I’m going to be a lawyer, so I need to know these things,” she stops again, poking a finger at each figure, drawing in two more. “Twelve.”

Audrey leans back in her chair, looking up at Andy, “Can I have an applesauce pack?” Finally something normal for a child. He gets up out of his seat, and returns with two pouches. One for him, and one for her. She only eats one squeeze before she stares at her drawing. “Did Suede almost die?”

“No,” he answers without hesitation. Not almost. He could have, but everyone did what they needed to do.

“He looked purple though,” Andy’s fingers drum over the kitchen table, trying to think of a way to answer her questions. Questions that you might refuse to answer. “I tell Taylor that Suede can’t have walnuts or eggs because he’ll die, but can he really?”

“Yes, he can. But that’s why we carry those pens with us. They’re the safety measure until we get him to the hospital. As long as we’re careful…”

“How does…no. I mean, is he going to always look like that now?” Her face crinkles up a bit, “He was cuter before.”

“The swelling will go down. I’m sure it’ll look different for a few days, but it won’t stay that way. Are you okay? You know you can talk to your mom, me, even your dad about this whenever you want,” she looks back down at her drawing, and shakes her head. “No, you’re not okay?”

“I’m okay, but daddy don’t like to talk about this, and it makes mommy sad.”

“I’ll always listen. Mommy will, too. Even if it makes her sad,” he sees a slight grin edge up on her face before he settles back into his chair, and she picks up a different crayon. He couldn’t stop what’s already been done, so might add to it, “Where does the witness sit during cross examination?”

Her body wiggles around excitedly, drawing a square next to the judge, and then a little figure, “Good job, sweetheart,” he says, flicking his head towards the door before he jogs off to answer the knock. “Evening, Scott.”

“Where’s my son?” he pushes past Andy, and into the foyer, walking down the hall, and deeper in the house. Looking around the living room when he doesn’t see Suede. “And my daughter?”

“Audrey is doing courtroom homework in the dining room, and Suede is getting a bath in the big tub,” he flicks his eyes towards the dining room, before returning to Andy. “Audrey’s fine. I think you should check on Suede.”

Scott rolls his eyes before walking towards his old bedroom. Glancing towards the open closet, and his jaw tightens. Andy’s clothes were all in the closet. In the hamper. A different bed. He barely knocks on the door to the bathroom before opening it, and Suede looks at you before standing up in the tub, and trying to give you a hug. You softly run your hand up and down his back, keeping your movements slow. Careful not to be harsh on his welts.

Scott scans over Suede’s body before leaning back on the bathroom counter, and Suede gives him a little smile, realizing he wasn’t there to take him from you. You keep humming the song you had been humming before Suede squats back down, and falls into the water with a laugh.

“How is he?” It’s one of the first times you’ve ever felt like Scott has sounded concerned for Suede. “How many stings? My god. Buddy, you okay?”

“Chess. Mama. Na Na,” his few words turn to gibberish, and Scott pinches the bridge of his nose.

“He’s got to go back to the allergist, and get pricked again,” your hand skims the warm water. Trying to relax Suede, but relax yourself more. The ability to see all his stings hurt you so much.

“I think it’s safe to say that he’s allergic to bees. How many stings?”

Suede’s hand reaches towards yours before he stands, and creates a slide down the back of the tub. Giggling before doing it again. “You know I don’t like when he does that in my house.”

“Seventeen times,” you try to change the subject. Suede rarely took a bath in the big tub. And as soon as you caught Scott fucking the babysitter, his rules for your children having fun didn’t apply anymore. “Audrey was stung once.”

“Is she okay?” Keeping your eyes on your baby, you roll your eyes, but nod.

“Yes. They got the stinger out, and gave her a pink unicorn bandage. There’s a little bit of swelling, but it’s her left hand, so she can still hold a crayon.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being condescending or not,” not towards your daughter, but towards his priorities.

“And neither can I,” everything you said was the truth, and under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have cared for his concern. But here sits his son with seventeen stings, welts, swollen, wet coughs, and a snotty nose, and he’s worried about one sting. “His face turned purple again.”

“And how long did it take you to get to him?” Even though his words are calm, they cut deeply. Watching Suede now, you realize this evening could have ended very differently in a matter of seconds.

“It didn’t take long, but his airways had been sealed shut.”

“Seventeen goddamn times,” he says your name, and tears instantly flood your vision. “What the hell were you doing when our baby was stung that many times?”

“I was closer than you were.”

“Because it was your weekend. I would have never…”

“I didn’t know he was allergic to bees!” You shout, causing Suede to flinch. You take a deep breath, continuing the conversation softer, “Do you think I want my children to be stung? For them to feel any pain? Especially when it comes to their lives?” Suede whispers ‘Mama,’ standing up in the water, and he leans against you. “Do not put this on me, and act like it was my fault, I already feel guilty enough as it is.”

“You should!” Your eyes squeeze shut. Inhale. Exhale. You slowly open your eyes and look at Suede when you pick him up out of the tub without a towel. Holding him on your hip as you grab the towel next to Scott, and he grabs your wrist, “You’re being negligent since he came into your life.”

“Careful with your words, Scott. Because you purposefully let that woman bring a cat into my house, knowing our son was allergic,” you jerk your hand away from him, and bring the towel with you. Getting into the bedroom when you maneuver it around Suede’s body. “You do not get to put this on me. Just today your fiancé was telling us how Suede would like apples with walnuts on it.”

“That’s different!”

“How?” You shout. Actually raising your voice, and then pull the towel covered Suede closer against your body, while you snuggle him. “How is that different?”

“Because she didn’t actually do it! You’re the one that was stupid enough to take your eyes off our kids, probably to make out with Andy fucking Barber!”

“It’s time for you to leave,” Andy’s presence is enormous as he steps into the doorframe. Hands on his hips, and his voice so calm, and yet demanding. It’s easy to see why he is feared in the courtroom. How everyone knows he will be a judge one day. “You’re not coming into our home and talking like that in front of the kids.”

“Take a look at the deed, you prick,” Scott spins on his heels stopping in front of Andy, “There is no ‘our’ with you. There’s not even ‘our’ with me. There’s one person’s name on that deed, and it’s not hers. You want to know the reason why she’s still living here?”

“Because she’s got your children. You wouldn’t want her and the kids to be homeless now, would you?” Scott and Andy silently stare at one another. “I would have given her the house, too, Scott. It’s what good men do, right?”

“I’m still going for sole custody. This incident will be recorded. I’ve already gotten a copy of his ER discharge papers,” Andy’s eyes go ablaze with every disgusting word he says.

“No! Scott, don’t you dare! You don’t even want him. You let her bring a cat into his home! That was intentional,” you hold Suede even tighter, and Andy raises his hand slightly, keeping his eyes on your soon to be ex husband.

“Scott, you’re going to quit threatening my girlfriend.”

“My wife,” Scott gives him an evil smirk.

“That you cheated on,” Scott blinks quickly, looking away for a split second, “I should probably look at the prenup agreement, huh? You’re going to quit with your idle threats, you’re not going to push for sole custody. You’re going to carry on with the agreement that was settled in mediation, and when we find a house, you can have this place back since you’re the only one on the deed.”

“We’re still married. You know I can have something to say about you living here,” you wish he would. You wish that he would say something. Pig.

“You got as much to say as she does with Taylor living with you. For the past three months, if I recall. That is when her apartment lease was up, and it wasn’t renewed. Now, I’m guessing since she hasn’t signed anywhere else, and you added another person to your own rental agreement, that she officially lives with you. So let’s quit going tit for tat, Scott because I got you beat. Whatever happened in the past, is the past. Currently we’re all trying to make sure that kids are happy and healthy. Suede is happy, and despite an added allergy, he’s healthy. Audrey is happy, despite her drawing a courtroom for fun,” Andy will continue to bring this up because it disgusts him. She should be playing with Barbie dolls.

“This isn’t over,” Scott grunts before shoving past Andy’s shoulder. He stops to look towards the dining room before walking to the front door, leaving with a slam, and not a word to Audrey, and you gracefully fall to the floor. Clinging to and rocking Suede.

Exhausted.

Mentally exhausted.

Andy reaches on the bed, handing you Suede’s pajamas and cream. Sitting on the edge of the bed quietly as you put a diaper on him. Rubbing the cream into all of his stings. Slipping those pajamas on before lifting him up and holding him so tightly, and still he says nothing. He stares out into space.

“Suedey, you want to go get sissy so we can get everyone in bed?”

“Chess,” he runs off, and you spin to look at Andy. He’s the only reason you’re upright at this moment. He has been your strength.

“Would you tell me if I overstep my bounds?” You get to your knees, crawling in between his thighs before laying on his lap. Extending both arms around his waist, and just hug him. “This is too sweet, but you’re not answering.”

“Yes, babe, I’d tell you. You know you’re the only person that’s ever taken up for me,” Andy gives your back scritches. Sighing as his body relaxes. Going limp almost at your calming touch, “You didn’t have to go so hard on him with the house, but I loved it.”

“And he doesn’t have to kick you when you’re down. What are you two doing?” You don’t move, just smile at the kids being able to see you and Andy love each other. It takes two point five seconds before they run, and crash into your back. “Do not get all silly, it’s bedtime,” they’re happy. They’re happy despite the chaos and hurt of the day. Giggling and having fun. Seeing true love between the adults in the house. A family in every sense of the word.

“Since…since Suedey is sleeping in here, can I sleep in here, too?” Andy looks at you, and you look at him, and without saying a word, and barely either of your faces changing, you know the answer. You give her a nod and she runs, struggling to get into the bed.

Suede’s eyes already get heavy, his antihistamine kicking in. Audrey understood that her brother is going to sleep on your chest all night, while you hardly sleep. A paranoia of his breathing stopping, so you need to watch his body rise and fall with his oxygen intake.

“How about a movie?” Audrey asks, motoring her lips and blowing a raspberry. She’s extra cute when she thinks she’s being sly.

“One movie. Lights completely out,” you tell her, crawling into the bed with Audrey. “Andy?” It isn't hesitation in his eyes as much as it’s observing. Smiling as Audrey leans over on your stomach. Wiggling around to get comfortable, and then reaches for her brother’s hand. “You okay?”

His eyes are so glossy, and you want to hold him so tightly. He didn’t have a family growing up. Didn’t have a present mother, father was in prison, didn’t have siblings, and you knew how much he wanted moments like this. “I’m fine,” Andy opts to keep his shirt, and pajama bottoms on. You get it, but you do love his topless suggles.

“Is there room for me?” He asks lifting his edge of the bed’s covers up.

“Chess, Na Na! Hewe!”

“You hold mommy’s hand.”

“I don’t mind if I do,” Andy leans over, giving you a quick peck to your temple, causing an uproar of sleepy laughter, and he weaves his fingers in yours. His other hand grabs the remote. “I say we watch Winnie the Pooh,” both kids nod, giggling again.

“Next time can Ann come to our slumber party?”

“Where is he going to sleep, baby?”

Audrey shrugs, sitting up in the bed to look on the floor, “There’s room for him to sleep down there,” you shush her. Already she was getting too excited about Ann visiting. Ransom would never sleep on the floor, but she didn’t have to know it. She settles back in between you and Andy, and you glimpse her edging a little closer to him. Finally, sticking her foot out, so she can touch him, too.

Touch is a way she shows her comfort. Before Suede was born, if she slept in the bed with you and Scott, she’d lay diagonally between the two of you. Hands on you, feet on him. It feels right. Like they’ve always belonged to him. To you and him.

Today has been exhausting, but this is the way you would want it to end. Suede’s rattling breathing on your chest, Audrey snuggled next to you, a hand holding Suede’s and a foot on Andy’s waist. She’s making sure she touches everyone. And the man that you know is without a doubt your soulmate. Your mate. Your best friend. And the man you are going to marry, once the divorce is over. But there’s a part of you that also believes you could maybe give him a child. It’s what he deserves.

“Thank you,” you whisper to him, and he pulses his hand around yours.

“Get a couple hours of sleep. I’ll watch his breathing,” you thank him again, but you can’t sleep. Not like that. You're sure he’s fine, but a mother will forever worry. But tonight, the worry isn’t as bad because you have your entire world in one bed.

“Uhh!” Suede stops his playing in the middle of the floor. His eyes big and wide as he stares at you, and then at Andy. “Hewe!”

“I’ll get it!” Audrey runs towards the door with you close behind. Going as fast as her short little legs will carry her, and Suede is right behind. She slings the door open, gasping as she stares at the tall man, “Uncle Ann!”

“Uncle?” Ransom asks confused.

“Ann!”

“Ran, what are you doing here?” He brings his hands out from behind his back, shrugging as he holds out two gift bags, too expertly decorated, and you give him an odd look. “What are you doing?”

“One, two!” Audrey shouts. Jumping up and down, and getting the same reaction from Suede. “There’s two, that’s for me and Suedey!”

“It is. Can I come in?” You step aside, waiting for Ransom to enter before closing the door, “Where’s your less than desirable boyfriend?”

“I heard that,” Andy steps out of the kitchen, extending a hand to his colleague, and Ransom shakes his head no. “I was cleaning up after lunch,” Ransom grimaces, “Doe made lunch, I cleaned up. And then for dinner we’re ordering out.”

“Indian!”

“Chess!” as if in response Andy smiles wide, noticing the presents, and both kids chasing Ransom’s arms that keep lifting the bags up. You have kept both kids out of ‘school’ until Suede fully heals. Needing to see what his new allergies are before you let him out of your sight. Audrey wanted to stay with her brother, much to Scott’s chagrin.

“Me?” Suede asks, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Yes, one is for you.”

“Let’s clean up the living room, and take everything back to the playroom room first,” the kids groan, but head into the living room, “Keep him here, until we’re done. It’s a mess,” Andy watches the three of you leave with the biggest smile on his face.

“So you made this thing social media official. Profile pictures changed to a family photo. I’m sure Scotty is going to love that,” Andy rolls his eyes playfully, starting to walk away, and Ransom chuckles. “Cute fingernail polish.”

“Audrey got bored during Suede and Doe’s nap. I’m taking it off before tomorrow. What’s in the bag?” Ransom shrugs with a smile walking down the hall before stopping. “Thought you were going to be cocky, but didn’t know where you were going.”

“Listen, I don’t get sappy, and I’m not going to start right now, but you suit this life. Maybe not in this dump of a house, but with her, the kids, maybe more kids,” his eyebrows raise and fall a few times, and Andy gets the biggest grin, “You’re already trying aren’t you? Before the divorce is finalized, that’s risky.”

“I know. I know. Her doctor and Scott really did a number to her self esteem with another pregnancy. But I am hopeful, and I enjoy the practice,” he turns around quickly, causing Suede to flinch before he giggles, screaming back down the hallway and into the living room, “I think he’s telling us they’ve cleaned, and he wants to see what the present is. And if it’s expensive, she’s going to complain.”

“Then I suppose I’ll hear her complain,” gesturing down the hall, Ransom lets Andy lead him into the living room where Suede and Audrey sit cross legged in the floor. Practically buzzing with excitement, and trying not to make grabby hands. Looking at their mom and then at Ransom. “I don’t know why you’re waiting on me.”

That is all it takes for Audrey and Suede to reach for the bags, pulling out the perfectly stuffed tissue paper. Audrey squeals as she holds up an iPad box, and your head immediately jerks towards Ransom, and Suede giggles, pulling out his own. “Ransom!”

“What, they’re minis. And, they have their own data, so they can call you whenever they want.”

“I can call from upstairs?” You shake your head no, and Audrey pouts a bit. “Why not?”

“You can if it’s important, but these will be kept up at night. You’re not going to sit and play with them all day. You’ll have to earn time on it,” you never want your kids to be addicted to media.

“Can we take it to daddy’s and I can call you there?” You glance towards Ransom who gives you a warm smile, nodding. “And we won’t even have to ask to FaceTime you!”

“Chess!” Suede takes his box over to Andy, crawling in his lap, and he gives it a tap. “Pease, Na Na.”

“Doe, I think they earned this. And it would be a nice opportunity for the future,” there is so much more to these than either of the men are making it. It’ll be an issue with their father. But to have the ability to call them whenever they’re at Scott’s would be a huge relief. You can only answer with a nod, motioning Audrey to let you help her open the box. Whispering a thank you to Ransom.

Relief warms your body. It could be just for the moment, Scott may not let them use the iPads, but right now, you have an ease when you didn’t realize it was something that bothered you. Now that Suede has at least one more allergy to deal with, you just know nobody watches him quite like you do. Even his father. Even Andy. And that’s something you have to deal with in your own time.

Andy nods his goodbye to the judge, collecting all his things, and tries to keep his eyes on his task. It was a trial with Scott. Andy had thankfully remained calm and collected, while Scott was losing grip on the trial. Taking things far too personally. The Neanderthal part of Andy wants to lash out at Scott, wants to tell him to grow up. The little man with a big issue.

Halfway through the trial, and a warning from the judge, Andy realized that Scott never thought you would move on. Thought that you would be there waiting on him for when he and Taylor inevitably split up. A man that wants to belittle a woman, just so he can weasel himself back in, but he didn’t know you. Cheating was always your ‘I’m done and never going back’ moment. And why anyone would want to cheat on you, the perfect woman, is beyond him.

He grabs up his briefcase, heading towards the door, and finally free from him and today. He is almost gone, “At least I got her best years,” Andy stops immediately. Contemplating how he wants to deal with this. How he wants to address Scott’s demeaning comment. During his thought process Scott walks past Andy, brushing roughly against his shoulder.

“Is there a problem?” Scott spins around, shaking his head no. Thankfully the courtroom has cleared out, but Andy is so tired of these mind games. The threats. The disgusting behavior. The low blowing comments. He’s hitting a peak that he knows he’s going to have to address. “Honestly, what’s your deal?”

“Nothing,” he acts as if to move, and then stops, “You really don’t need her drama. You’re a good looking man, and have younger women vying for your attention. You could have a woman without baggage, and one who can still give you a child,” Andy’s teeth clench just as hard as his fists. “Think about it. Your own children with your last name. And besides, you know, everything is tighter.”

“You’re a pig, and that is the least of the things I can say. You called your own children baggage, and the only drama in her life is you. You want to say you got the best years, and you didn’t. I got all her firsts, and I’m going to have all her lasts, and you’re going to be a sad pathetic lonely man. Do you get that? Clearly you do, and that’s why you’re so bitter. You were a placeholder in her life, one that gave her the two best things you could, and you don’t even realize it. You had it all. Everything, and you threw it away for a woman that’s barely a woman, and when she’s bored, she will leave you. And if I ever hear you say another thing about my future wife…”

“What?” Scott interrupts, and Andy smiles, resuming his walking. Let Scott ponder the things that Andy could do if he wanted to. Let him sit and think about all the things Andy could do to ruin him, while he gets to go home to you. He isn’t waiting, a new house will need to be found. Scott is pushing too many boundaries, and being shameless about it. Tonight, he just wants you to feel all the ways that he is better, and the ways you are better with him. How perfect you truly are.

Andy watches you from the bed. His book laying on his stomach, and his eyes flit over your entire body. For one, he just loves to look at you. He loves seeing how even though you and your body have changed, you’re still the most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his life. You’re immaculate. Perfect. He just hates he missed so many years of getting to absorb you.

Another reason he watches, you seem tense. There’s an off-ness about you this evening that he can’t put his fingers on. Coupled with the words from Scott earlier today, it bothers him. You peer at yourself longer in the mirror than you normally do. You turn your body to the side, your eyes looking up and down your body. Do you not see what he sees? Do you not realize how amazing he finds your body? How every bit of the added curves are something that he wants to kiss.

You look into the mirror, and it’s like your face falls. You don’t see you like he sees you. You don’t understand the goddess that he gets to be in the presence of every day. Every fucking day he gets to be in your orbit, and he’s thankful, but you’re looking at yourself like you hate what you see. Even as a teenager you didn’t have this much self esteem issues, and he wonders what Scott has ever said to you to make you doubt your beauty, despite your flaws.

You turn to look at him, and quickly your vision falls to the vanity in front of you, twiddling your fingers on your gown. Andy places a bookmark in his book, laying it down on the nightstand before walking into the bathroom with you. Standing behind you, while his hands trace down the sides of your body. Circling his arms around your front before he pulls you into him.

His nose inhales your newly bathed scent. Slowly making his way higher before nipping at your jaw. “Doe, honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie, and one hand moves to your breasts, the other trailing further south. “Andy,” his brow furrows as he looks at your reflection. That sounds like a plea for him to stop. “Why are you with me?”

Sighing, he rests his chin on your shoulder. His hands stop, but they don’t leave their spots. Andy only looks at your reflection, “Because I love you.”

“Why?” If he could get away with it, he might kill Scott. You are a woman that is now going to question his motives because of Scott. He knows that Scott choosing Taylor hurt more than your ego, but these feelings are deeper, coming from a place of Scott words.

“You’re my best friend. You are the strongest woman I know. You make me laugh, smile, get excited to come here, and one day I’ll be going home to our family. I love seeing you be a mother, and how fiercely you love your kids,” your waterline fills with tears. No one has ever told you they love how you are a mother. It was just something that was expected of you. But hearing it from him is nearly painful. A pain that reverberates through your body because you believe him, and his words are strong. It’s a love that is so powerful it stings and overwhelms.

“You’re a damn good cook. And I love watching you in this element. I love watching you move on top of me in the mornings. Your whispered moans as you use me. I love watching you sleep. You don’t have to be doing anything, and still I love it.”

“That sounds so creepy,” you manage to huff out a laugh, and wipe away stray tears.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, but your beauty is more than your looks,” his words turn into moans as he kisses your body. Slowly taking your nightgown off you, and your hands immediately cover your stomach in shame. Everything in here with all the lights and the mirror is intimidating.

Andy sinks to his knees as he descends further down. Leaning around your body as he kisses on your arms, using his hands to pull your arms off your body, and he ghosts his lips over your belly. Saying your name like a sweet prayer with every tender touch of his lips.

“I will spend everyday worshiping you, and reminding you how perfect you are for me as long as you do the same. I will lift you up from the depths of whatever pit that Scott left you in because I need you. I love you. And I will give us a baby,” waterfalls of tears pour down your cheeks and still his lips linger. Going lower, and lower before kissing your covered core.

“I’m not giving up on you, on us, on expanding our family because Audrey and Suede are part of my family. I get all of you. Every bit of it, and I’ve always wanted it. I’ll take you in any shape or form because it’s you I want. I want to grow old with you. I want to sit on our porch in rockers, and watch our grandchildren play. You are what I’ve always wanted,” you whimper as he licks a strip up the gusset of your panties. Hooking his fingers in the elastic before pulling them slowly down your body.

He smiles at your exposed core. Desperately moaning at the sight of you even though you don’t have a thigh gap or you’re thicker than when you first were together. Despite your older age, he still stares at you like you’re a work of art. His look has never changed. His tongue roams through your split, and you spread your legs further apart. Stepping back to give him more room, and he moves to your front, sitting on the floor, while he desperately eats your cunt.

Pulling you nearly over him, and his hands roam over your naked body. His hands working you over. Loving you wordlessly. Using his hands to show he wanted your body in this form, and any form you gave him. Scott tried so many times to ruin you. Mentioned how it wouldn’t be long before Andy wanders, too because you wanted too much. And there would never be a man that holds up to your standards. Except, here he is, sitting on the floor, feasting on you like a five star dinner.

“Watch yourself,” he pants, staring up at you, and you glance down confused. “I want you to see just how amazing you look when I make you come. When I taste you, and make you moan, watch,” his face buries back into your warmth, but he keeps his eyes on you. He kneads and tweaks your nipples, and you grind over his mouth. Trying to watch yourself despite the embarrassment until the pleasure becomes too much. Watching while you enjoy the way he makes you feel.

“Andy,” he pinches your nipples harder. Rolling them in his fingers, while you let out the most beautiful mewl. Too loud, so he stops. “Andrew Barber!”

Andy maneuvers himself out of the floor, and gets right in your face as his thick hand rubs off the slick on his beard. His hands grab the hemline of his shirt, and he pulls it off his body, and then pulls down his boxers. “You’re too loud, and will wake up the kids.”

“But it feels too good,” whining because why is he a god in a man’s body? Why is sex on legs? Able to make your pussy throb, and cry for him.

“Pouting is going to get you nowhere,” he steps behind you, pressing a hand in between your shoulder blades, and adds pressure. Leaning you forward before gathering your slick on the crown of his cock. “But I will fuck you, while I cover your mouth. I’m going to make you stare at yourself, while I pump you full of cum, and breed you like a bitch in heat,” your mouth falls open, and you start to say something but he lays a hand on your mouth, and in one thrust, his cock stretches you wide open.

Yipping when he slides all the way home, “You talk too much. Just enjoy the ride,” that hand on your mouth never moves, but he grips your hip tight as he crashes into you over and over again. “See how your eyes get all glossy and wide because I’m fucking you? How your body moves every time that I fill this cunt like no one else ever has. That’s because you were made for me. You are mine. All mine, and I will fuck you until you swell with me. Our other babies are going to fawn over you. They’re going to be so excited to see their mama happy and full.”

You preen. Your back bows, but you’re watching him. He’s so sexy when he’s slightly angry. When his only determination is giving you what you want, his baby. It’s all so much. Overwhelming. You feel everything, see everything, “Keep your eyes on you,” you try, but he’s too beautiful. “Doe! On you!”

He spears into with so much force that you see stars, and watch yourself. He’s so rough, and yet, your body takes him. Takes every thick, hard inch of him. You were meant for him. You were meant solely for him. To give him a family that he’s always wanted. The new tears in your eyes are something else entirely, they’re the realization that you were for Andy. Good enough for him. Enough for him! The perfect man you could ever imagine, you were enough. And it is addictive. You’ve always been addicted to him. Always longed for him.

You tug at his arm, and his hand moves to your neck. “I’m good enough,” you plead, trying to keep your voice quiet. “I’m good enough for you.”

“You’ve always been good enough,” this isn’t love making. This is fucking, and fucking hard. It’s claiming you. It’s possessive. It’s demanding. It’s what you need. “You’ve always been mine. And you will always be mine,” he grunts, and crashes his mouth into yours. Aggressive, and nearly cruel, and you love it. You love when this side of Andy comes out. When you are the only one that sees that darker side that lurks just below the surface. He saves himself losing his cool on you.

Something pissed him off today, and your pussy suffers in pleasure. Your body tightens. Keeling as you start to lose the ability to stand, letting his hands hold you up. He gives each nipple a hard squeeze, and you scream into his mouth. Swallowing every aggravated grunt. Losing the function to be human as pleasure soaks over you like a warm blanket.

Andy’s hands slap on your belly and in one hard, pounding, deep thrust he shoots his load into your belly, and you feel it expand to take every drop. Your walls flutter, milking every bit, while he pants into your mouth. Pulling off your lips, he rests his forehead on your shoulder. “I promise you, Doe, I will fuck a baby in you. And I will never stop trying. It will happen. And you can look that doctor in the eyes, and tell him that he was wrong. You’re mine, and I will see you pregnant. I will have every experience with you.”

“I believe you,” panting, he pulls his softening cock out of you, but a hand covers your mound. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping it in there, while I walk you to the bed. And then I’m going to watch myself, leak out of your hole, and I’m fingering it back in there. This is the one. You’ll see. This is it. This is our baby.”

“I hope so, but if it’s not, can you fuck me like that again?” Waddling back into the bedroom he pushes you onto the bed, and then he’s back in between your legs, covering your hole again. “Do you need a front row seat?”

“Yes,” you giggle, and Andy smiles, kissing a line from one side of your pelvis to the other. “It’s so sexy to know I’m in there. And I’m controlling it. And it’s sexy to see you push it out. It’s sexy to watch you swallow it after it’s been in you. It’s sexy to see me drying on your skin.”

You run your fingers through his hair, smiling down at him, “Andy, I want to see you watch me leak of you,” that mouth quirks up, and he moves his hand. Staring at you like this was a blockbuster movie, and you push it out. His breathing hitches as thick rivers of him spill out of you.

Instead of immediately pushing it back in, Andy gathers some on his finger. He lifts his hand, and starts writing across your pussy. My god, he looks like a teenage boy, smiling mischievously. His finger moving over you sweetly despite being covered in cum, “What are you spelling?”

“You can’t tell?”

“I felt an ‘A’.”

“Andy’s,” he chuckles again, before looking at your gaping hole. “This is the best thing. Your pussy is a mess,” and he slides the rest back in. Pumping his fingers into your wet heat a few times. “You slut. Are you getting off on this?”

“Mhmm. Make me come on your cum, daddy.”

“Such a slut,” he didn’t want this to last. He wants you to come, so he can make you clean him off. He pulls out all the stops. Curling his fingers, adding a third one, and you’re already lifting off the bed. Already leaking. So wet. Squelches echo into the bedroom, and it’s the best lullaby. “My personal slut.”

Your orgasm comes way too fast as the calluses of his fingers massage that special spot. Waves upon waves of pleasure crash into you, and just before you moan too loudly, you cover your mouth, letting your body reach that perfect height when everything falls down. Clenching your eyes closed, and when you open them, Andy is hovering over you with messy fingers.

“Open up,” you obey, and he holds out his fingers for you to suck every bit of your essences off him. Moaning just as much as he is. “That’s the one, Doe. I just fucked a baby in you. I just know it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cocks up an eyebrow, and your eyes get so heavy, “Because this,” you lay both hands on your belly. So sleepy. “This is Andy’s.”

“Damn right it is. Go to sleep, little deer. I’ll clean everything up, and unlock the door, okay?” You smile, and nod. Letting beautiful dreams of unknown children, and your two oldest run around in a big backyard. What a dream. What a beautiful dream.

Next

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He’d ignored the first few drops and the heavy looming clouds because he didn’t want to entertain heading toward whatever lame hick shit the kids at school were getting up to. He sure as fuck wasn’t about to go home to Neil and his bad mood. 

It would be calling Billy’s number eventually, so why rush it? 

Except the rain was stirring up something foul - rot on top of wet  - the funk filling his nose. Taking a final drag on the cigarette between his lips Billy tosses it to the side of the road and rolls up his window before it can fill his car. God damn he hates this town.

The rain is really coming down hard now. Sheets of it blurring the lines of the road in front of him. He’s still a few miles outside of town. Thinks he’s getting close to the old power plant. There isn’t much to see on either side except for gray fields and the brown smudges of trees, either way but it still makes him a little edgy. He finds himself wondering about Max. Just because he’ll catch hell for not knowing if he gets home and precious baby Max is unaccounted for. Like it’s his fault her dumb ass doesn’t know enough to come in out of the rain.

Kid is probably fine. She is probably riding around like a queen right now in Harrington’s car with her nerd friends again. Which he isn’t going to think about, because he had new rules for himself since that strange night in October. Staying away from Steve is one of them, even in his mind. Especially in his mind actually. 

The irony is, he’s totally thinking about Harrington when it happens, but even if Billy hadn’t been distracted the rain was coming down so thick he probably wouldn’t have seen him anyway. The figure running across the road suddenly appears between his headlight beams and there’s nothing he can do but slam on the brakes and turn the wheel, hoping to god that he doesn’t hit them.

He does. The car slides on the wet pavement and fishtails to one side before he feels the ominous thud, between his palms and up his arms, his thoughts becoming a litany of oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

The body lays on the side of the road, a few yards away from where Billy struck it - him! Holy shit. It takes seeing the guys beat up sneakers and mud splattered levis for it to really sink in that he has just hit a real person with his car.  Like a live person, who might now be un-alived, thanks to him!

Billy’s knees are knocking together, his teeth rattling in his skull with shivers that have nothing to do with the rain soaking through his clothing as he runs over to the body. It’s definitely male - jean clad legs splayed awkwardly on the pavement, his toros curled in a fetal position. 

“Hey! Hey buddy, are you alright?” Billy calls, praying desperately for a response. Slides to his knees in relief at the body’s side when a pained groan reaches his ears.

Billy pushes at his shoulder to turn him over before he remembers that you’re not supposed to move an injured person and the man on the ground moans softly. The hair on Billy’s skin raises at the familiarity of the sound. And it’s a revelation, because there’s no reason for Billy to know Harrington by something as small as that - just a grunt of breath under the pounding rain - but apparently he does. 

Steve’s a wreck: tears in his clothes, scratches on his face and arms, and underneath the thick layer of dirt that stains everything else Billy spots blood. 

But it’s not just his injuries that unsettle Billy. It’s the strange lines on his face like he’s aged ten years since basketball practice. He doesn’t understand why Steve looks like he’s been through a war zone - or why he smells like absolute death. Billy can’t help but make a disgusted face at the stench of rot that clings to him as well as the slime - not mud - covering his clothes, and now Billy’s hands. Fucking gross.

“B-Billy?”

Familiar brown eyes blink open slowly and stare up at Billy dazedly, but before he can answer a sharp cry cracks through the air. An infant's cry. It’s so wrong and out of place that Billy jerks back like someone fired a gun. Steve reacts to the sound on instinct, pulling enough strength from somewhere to sit up and open the thick parka he wears and reveal the tiny bundle strapped tightly to his chest.

“Hey, hey, baby it’s alright. Daddy’s here.”

He makes these shushing sounds, rushed and insistent despite their softness, as he tries to sooth the baby. Tells the kid everything’s gonna be okay as he unwraps it, shaking hands feeling over its body for injuries. Billy just hopes it’s true. It’s so fucking small in Steve’s arms and Billy hit it with his car!

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Billy demands, swapping terror for beligerant rage because what the fuck is Harrington doing running across the road like that with a kid anyway. “I could have fucking killed you!”

The rant makes Steve look at him again, but it’s not with an expression that makes sense. For a moment he seems confused, like he didn’t understand the plain English coming out of Billy’s mouth. And then something like dread creeps over his face and he turns his head to look back at something in the darkness. 

“Billy.” Steve breathes his name like a prayer and it makes the cold hand of fear drag down his spine. Steve sounds downright terrified. Billy follows his gaze but beyond the glow of his headlamps all he can see is the dark silhouette of the iron gate that surrounds the old steel mill. 

“What? What’s the matter?”

Harrington doesn’t answer. Instead Billy suddenly finds an infant shoved into his arms and has to fumble not to drop the damn thing. It begins to wail again as it is handed over, but Steve doesn’t stop this time to try and soothe it. He wipes the water off the poor things face and presses one hard kiss to its forehead - daddy loves you - and then he’s pushing himself up onto his hands and knees and  stumbling to his feet.

“Wait a minute! Harrington what the hell?!” 

Billy clambors to his feet after him as quickly as he can manage without dropping the screaming baby in his arms, his heart sinking into his stomach because that sure seemed like a goodbye to him.

“I need you to take her.” Steve sways on his feet, weaving like a drunk and pauses to pant for breath before he looks back at Billy. “Get her out of here.”

“Fuck you! You’re not -”

Before Billy can finish, a strange animal scream rips through the air, chilling his blood. He can’t place it. Can’t say it’s a cat, or a fox, or a rabid fucking coon, cause he’s never heard anything like it before. It doesn’t sound right.

“Billy, listen to me.” Steve warns even as Billy demands to know what the hell that was. “Keep her safe. Okay? You have to get in the car and go. Right now!”

The thing is, Billy is inclined to agree. Whatever is out there in the dark making that awful sound is not something he wants to meet. But -

“What about you? Where the hell are you going? Steve!”

But Steve is staggering away from him, visibly powering through the pain as he runs into the darkness. Toward danger.  He shouts something over his shoulder that Billy isn’t sure he catches right. Something about coming back for the kid. 

When the sundowning started you started relying on Kiaya’s friends parents to help, refusing to leave the hospital until Zayne started forcing you to go home to shower and sleep whenever it got bad.  That was when you started to try to contact Caleb.  You knew he’d still be in comms black out but there were emergency protocols, you contacted his chain of command and asked them to inform him of the situation.  You had enough experience to know he couldn’t come home just because she was ill but you wanted him to know, and you wanted his commanders to have the warning.

When she was no longer lucid Zayne stopped making you leave, his parents came to town and stayed with Kiaya while you stayed in the hospital indulging whatever Gran was saying, trying not to think too deeply about some of it.  When she passed in her sleep you were awake, holding her hand and you’d held it together.  You’d watched her quick decline, known her mind when she’d been well and there had been a level of relief that she was at peace now.

You had cried, of course, and Zayne had sat with you while you did.  Still holding her hand while the nurses turned off machines and unhooked lines. You’d sat in your chair next to her bed, your head down on the pillow near her watching it all happen as tears softly fell.  Zayne’s hand a steady pressure between our shoulders as he stood quietly next to you.

You’d made a list in your head of all the things you’d have to do now that it was over and you knew the moment you had the death certificate you’d have to call Caleb.

That thought had come with dread.

You hadn’t heard from him since he’d left.  He’d been supposed to be accessible weeks ago and he hadn’t emailed or called, or even opened anything you’d sent.  His chain of command had been frustratingly unhelpful with one officer even suggesting that perhaps he simply didn’t want to talk to a clingy ex .  

You’d signed off with the mortuary, knowing everything you needed from Gran’s home had already been packed and brought to your apartment by Zayne’s parents and collected the death certificate so you could contact Caleb and begin closing her accounts You go home for the first time in weeks to take the hottest shower humanly possible and sleep until Kiaya gets home from school.

Zayne’s parents leave your house clean and your fridge full and Gran’s things in a neat organized stack on your table.

They’ve already told Kiaya and you can’t find it in you to be upset about that. She was 13 and it had not been sudden.

“So does this mean Dad is coming home early?” She asks.

“It might,” is all you can say.  Still none of the messages you've sent have been opened.  When you’d called Command to find out who to send a copy of the death certificate to they’d become suspiciously docile and insisted they’d call you back.

The dread hits you hard when they finally get back to you.  Something tells you to answer the phone outside, where Kiaya can’t hear, and you’re glad for whatever higher power granted you that premonition because this is where you fall apart.

You answer the phone tucked into the corner where you know you’re hidden by a potted plant and a sheer curtain.  It takes a moment for the words to register when they start talking.  Telling you that this information is still not public but given your current situation Command had decided to grant you temporary spousal privileges .  You remember thinking that they sounded like they thought they were doing you a favor.

You know the officer assigned to make this call.  You’d been in classes with him when you and Caleb had attended the academy. The words he’s saying try so hard to slip through your fingers.  You try so hard to let them.

“-days grace for return to communication but we are now long past that.  We have had both civilian and DAA ships in the area and along the route they had been assigned to on alert for the ship but there has been no contact.  At this point the crew are in the process of being declared MIA.”

“They’re what?” You ask, even though you know what he said.

“They are all being declared missing in action Miss,” he repeats.  As a Cadet you’d ranked higher than him.  You want to scold him despite having no authority in this situation. “As I said this is not public information, there will be another one to two weeks before we officially declare the ship lost.”

“Do spousal privileges allow me any information on the mission?” You find yourself asking.

“What information would you ask for?”

“What was the danger assessment, what is the likelihood that their mission ended in total loss or detainment?”  You ask.

You can hear the line muted and you can feel your breathing quicken  There’s no answer to that question that you want.  No matter what they can tell you nothing good comes from knowing whatever information he could tell you.

“They’re declaring them missing, not dead,” he says as if that is a positive.

“Fuck,” is all you say.  You think he is probably the one that hung up the phone, you don’t remember.  You don’t remember when you sat on the cold concrete of your balcony floor, and you don’t remember how long you sobbed before Xavier was in front of you.  Your lips are bitten raw and your eyes are swollen nearly shut when he finally settles you down.

When he gets you inside Zayne is with Kiaya and while Xavier assumes that you’re obviously upset about Gran, Zayne immediately senses that something else has happened.  You sit numbly on the floor while he calls his parents and gives them Xavier’s apartment number.  You can see Kiaya’s bag already packed and sitting by the door and it takes every ounce of willpower to not break again when she hugs you goodbye.

“What happened to Caleb?” Zayne asks when the door shuts behind them.

You crumple again.  Your remaining best friend catches you before you hit the floor and tugs you into his lap as he sits.  He cradles you like a child against his chest and waits until you can explain.  The air chills around you when you tell him, you can feel the frost forming on his arms where they’re wrapped around you.  Zayne rarely loses control around you and you almost expect the tears to be frozen on his face.

You take a moment to catch your breath before you extract yourself from his arms and tug him up behind you.  You turn the shower on high heat and bully him down to his boxers and a tshirt before doing the same yourself and shove him in to sit underneath the shower with you.  Something the three of you had done as kids when he’d lose control.

You sit in the shower holding each other together as you feel your world fall apart and try to figure out how to explain to your daughter that not only was her grandmother gone, so was her father.

But you figure it out and life goes on.

A year later you’re standing outside staring at the doors to the Hunter’s association when you realize what day it is.  You know without looking that the notifications on your phone are Xavier wondering if you’re there yet and, now that you’ve noticed the date you know exactly why he sent you on this little errand.  

You can’t walk into that building today. That’s not your sweet neighbor’s fault. He might know what today is but he doesn’t know the lore. 

You take a deep breath before you look at your phone.

“There it is,” you mumble under your breath.

Between the texts from Xavier asking if you’d found the book he’d asked you to bring to him and if you’d made it to the building yet, is a text from Zayne.  

[Dr. Crybaby]: Did you forget your appointment today? [Me]: I don’t have an appointment today, Yivonne didn’t send a reminder. [Dr. Crybaby]: You’ll always have an appointment today.

You don’t answer him. You’ll deal with your well meaning friends one at a time.  Xavier is closer and has less context outside of the obvious, Zayne can wait.

[Me]: Meet me across the street? [Plant Dad]: ?? [Me]: I’ll buy you a hot chocolate [Plant Dad]: Give me two minutes

You’ve barely put your order in before Xavier is standing behind you. A soft hey called out so you don’t jump when he touches your elbow.  “Have you sat yet?” He asks when you turn and smile.

“No, I just ordered.”

He doesn’t wait for you to say anything else, he takes the tote bag off your shoulder and leads you to one of the quiet booths at the back of the cafe.  “Did you order anything to eat?”

“Not for us,” you say. “I can’t stay long, I ordered a tea and Macarons for Doctor Zayne.”

Xavier nods. “Good, that’s good.  You’re busy today?”

You smile.  It’s a habit you’ve fallen back on over the last year, smiling when you think you might cry.  A habit developed during what you thought was the worst year of your life, that was before last year. “I didn’t think it was going to be,” you admit. “But I guess plans were made.”

Xavier nods.

You inhale deeply and watch his eyes flick up to you.  He opens his mouth to speak but the barista calls your name and he jumps up to collect your order.

“You don’t have to do that,” you say when he sits back down.

“I know,” he smiles.

You shake your head and try to organize your thoughts.  Xavier is always so kind to you.  

When you’d moved into the building he’d helped you carry boxes upstairs before he’d even known your name.  You’d watered his plants when he was away and he’d done the same for you.  You both read the same books and your unofficial book club had gotten you through the worst of the last year and he’d checked in every night for two weeks when the DAA had contacted you last month.

“I mean,” you press your lips together. “I appreciate that you wanted to distract me, it’s just-” you trail off not sure how to word what you want to say without saying more than you want to.

“Was I that transparent?” He looks sheepish when he says it.

“No,” you tell him honestly. “I didn’t really-” you trail off again.  “Did you know,” you decide to rip the bandaid off.  “I was supposed to be a hunter?”

Xavier’s eyes flick up and stay on you. “You were?”

“I was accepted to the academy,” you nod.

“Changed your mind?” He asks.

You laugh.  Xavier is so childlike, yet there’s a drawer full of awards and medals in his apartment that suggests he’s one of the top hunters working right now.  It’s an interesting dichotomy. “No, I had to drop out.”

He nods again. “It’s a really intense program.”

You laugh, genuine and full.  People around you turn to look and you quickly apologize. “Sorry,” you say to Xavier’s frown. Your neighbor knows you as three very specific things; an art teacher, a woman who indulges in granny crafts, and a mom the cooks homemade meals and bakes from scratch.  Nothing about your interactions would suggest anything else.

“I made top marks,” you say with more than a little pride. “My marksmen scores broke records, I have awards.”

You watch the wheels in his head turn as he puts it all together.  “Kiaya?”

You nod. “Mmhm.”

“When is your appointment?” He asks.

You shrug. “Whenever I show up I think.”

“I am not the only person keeping you busy today, I guess.”

You laugh.  “No, I guess not.”

You stay long enough for him to finish his hot chocolate and he makes a point to leave first.  You pretend you don’t notice the refund notification on your phone.  It’s obvious he’ll do what he wants, including refunding your cafe orders so he can pay instead, and as much as it irks you, you know you shouldn’t complain that people in your life want to care for you.  Especially not when they do so despite how difficult you make it for them.

You call a car and send Zayne a text to warn him that you’re on your way and try not to think about the elephant in the room.  You watch the buildings blur past through the window of the car, the sky a bright blue and cloudless.  The world moves on, even if you cannot.

You pretend not to notice the sad smile that Yivonne gives you as you walk by her desk.  You’re long past checking in, and she’d stop you if Zayne was with a patient, or in a meeting so you slip quickly past and inside the room.

Zayne has his back to you, hanging his lap coat up when you enter.  “Give me your hand,” he says as he turns.

You pout but do what he asks.  You watch him check your pulse, eyebrows knitting together as he stares at his watch.  He tugs you a little before he lets your wrist go and gestures you to step closer.  You don’t fight him anymore.  He pulls the stethoscope from around his neck and listens to your heart and your breathing, mumbles something under his breath and nods to himself.

“You’re not over doing it?” He asks making a note on his computer without sitting down.

“Just the usual,” you shrug.

“So the answer is, yes?” 

You roll your eyes. “I took the stairs.”  

He straightens up and puts on his jacket.  “You took longer than I anticipated.”

“I can explain,” you say holding out the bag of sweets.

You watch him try not to smile. “I suppose I can forgive you but, Kiaya is finished school soon, yes?”

“Zayne,” you say softly.

“We’ll pick her up on our way,” he nods to himself holding the door for you.

“ Zayne ,” you say again, firmer.

He looks at you to continue but makes no move to slow his momentum.

“I just want today to be normal,” you tell him.

“Are you expecting me to do something unusual?” He frowns.

You sigh. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s not healthy to ignore grief,” he admonishes you as if he has ever taken his own advice.

“I’m not ignoring grief and neither is she,” you have to walk fast to keep up.  “We lost Granny and her Dad was declared MIA the same day, I don’t want to draw attention to it.”

Zayne opens the door of his car for you.  “I’m not-”

You shoot him a look that follows him through the windshield as he walks around to the drivers side.  “It’s bad enough that, apropos of nothing, they declared him dead a month ago. I’m not making today a thing, I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary.  Today is going to be a regular day.”

He says nothing but, you watch him pull out his phone, and decide to check your own texts.

[Creature]: What if instead of math class I eat broken glass? [Me]: What if instead of texting me, you were paying attention in math class? [Creature]: You know who wouldn’t make me do math? [Me]: Santa? [Creature]: Xavier. [Me]: Can’t argue with that, you still have to finish math class [Creature]: This is abuse I fear [Me]: Well I’ll let Zayne know and you can take the bus home I fear [Creature]: I’m suddenly so invested in this math class [Me]: That’s what I thought

When you look up Zayne is waiting. “We’ll pick Kiaya up and I’ll cook.”

“We’ll pick Kiaya up and you’ll order in,” you counter.

“Y/N,” he starts to scold.

“I have groceries but you are not cooking in my home again all you do is complain about the quality of my cookware,” you laugh.

“Your entire kitchen was stocked in a dollar store even though I know you can afford grown up cookware,” he scoffs.

At the school Zayne manages to find a parking spot primed for a quick escape.  You watch your daughter and her friends leave the school from a side door.  You watch her gesture for her friends to follow and wait.  

Zayne rolls down his window when one of them knocks.

“Damn Kiaya, your Mom has a Sugar Daddy?” One of the kids says.

“I’m not-” Zayne starts.

“He’s a Doctor!” The one that knocked yells, noticing his badge hanging from the rear view.

“A heart surgeon,” you clarify as Zayne turns to scowl at you.

“Get that money, Ms. Y/N,” the third calls.

“Gross,” Kiaya says getting in the car. “Uncle Zayne has higher standards than my Mom.”

“Maybe I have higher standards than your Uncle Zayne,” you defend yourself.

“Mom,” Kiaya says as her friends turn away.  “You’re standards aren’t that high, I know what Dad looked like in college.”

Zayne snorts.

“And that is why we’re ordering in,” you laugh.  “I get roasted in my own house enough, thanks.”

After Zayne and Kiaya argue about where to order from you stuff your faces with the spoils of compromise and watching trash TV for a few hours until your daughter disappears to her room and you Zayne start cleaning up.  It’s so easy to just exist together after knowing each other so long.  He simply stands and you follow.  Occasionally trading jokes, or reminders.  He makes notes on the to-do list you keep on your fridge as if he lives here.

There was a time that you thought this could be your life.  When your health had been worse and Zayne had been there, the lines had blurred for a while. 

When Zayne had left for school you joked that he’d been 90% of your impulse control, and while nothing romantic had ever existed between you and Caleb the two of you would joke that if Zayne had never left Kiaya wouldn’t exist, he would have talked the two of you out of casually sleeping together.

But Zayne had left and you had slept with Caleb, and once you’d reconnected it had been Caleb who had supported the two of you spending time together, encouraged it even.  Nothing had ever come of it beyond one clumsy kiss after a single glass of wine.  Zayne was your best friend, no more, no less.

“Have you resonated recently?” Zayne asks, unprompted, while you load the dishwasher.

“When would I have the opportunity?” You laugh.

“You continue to train,” he shrugs. “I assume you would use your evol.”

“Zayne, I take kick boxing lessons, when would I use evol kicking a heavy bag?” 

He shrugs.  “Perhaps you should talk to your friend with the Hunters Association, he may have information for you that could help.”

“Ok, wait.  Can we start this conversation at the beginning?  I feel like I missed something.  Is there a reason I should be training my evol or resonating regularly?”

Zayne frowns and leans against the counter.  “I don’t think it’s unreasonable to practice your skills.  You continue to practice hand to hand skills and I know you’ve maintained your marksmanship skills.”

“Ok, but I don’t train with staffs or blades anymore,” you counter.  “My evol is only really useful in combat, I can’t do cute tricks like you or Xavier.”

He nods.  “Of course I understand.  I was simply curious for scientific reasons.”

You narrow your eyes at him.  

“If it’s not offensive to you, I may include it in your next evaluation.”

You raise your eyebrows and nod.  He drops it.

Later that night you lean against the wall while he puts on his shoes and say your goodbyes.  He wraps you up in a tight hug and tells you not to be late to your check up in a few weeks before he leaves and you’re alone.  Kiaya is asleep, there’s no shuffling sounds from your upstairs neighbor, simply you and your thoughts.

It’s not difficult once you’re alone in your quiet living room to find Zayne’s train of thought.  He was probably struck by the same nostalgia you’ve been resisting all day.  Despite his clumsy attempts to justify the question you used to resonate for fun.  You used to resonate with him for fun specifically, teaming up to make snow balls to throw at or drop on Caleb as revenge for whatever pranks he’d pulled on one or both of you.

Or when you’d been even younger resonating with Caleb when the kids at school had teased you for being an orphan or him for being small. Zayne always playing the peacemaker then though you could see the anger behind his eyes.

You shower and you try not to think about sitting on the shower floor with Zayne while you both processed the loss of your best friend.  You change for bed and you try not to think about Caleb laying face down in the middle complaining about one of the officers he reports to, or drunk accusing you of cheating at Pile it Up.  You wonder if he’d complained about the same officer who’d called you back that night, trying to trade grief for anger. 

A month ago you’d received notice, by email, it was a confirmation that Caleb and the rest of the crew for the ship he’d been piloting had been declared deceased.  It was worded as a follow up, and after several rounds of phone tag a frustrated officer had called you back.  Irritated as he tried to tell you that spousal privilege had only been temporarily granted.  You were not owed any of this information, he’d told you while seething, you were lucky you accidentally received the email.

You’d asked him what privileges Caleb’s daughter was afforded in this situation and hung up before he could answer.

A much more affable member of staff had called you back.

Nothing mattered, nothing changed.  A few weeks after the missing ship had been reported to the media parts of the it had been recovered in a resale lot.  It was only functional mechanical parts, nothing they could use to determine what had happened.  Still no bodies recovered, still no sightings.  As far as you were concerned DAA had decided it was cheaper to take the hit to their insurance premiums than to continue to pay the families who’d lost children, partners and parents.

You hadn’t told Kiaya.  The life insurance money goes into a trust until she’s 18, nothing else about the situation has changed, there’s no new information, just undamaged parts from the ship that you’d have known about last year if you’d had a conventional relationship with the father of your child.  

When you eventually fall asleep you dream that Caleb is alive and the last year was a nightmare.  

You dream a normal uneventful day.  Kiaya goes to sleep, you go to work.  Caleb meets you and Zayne for lunch, he makes bad jokes and the three of you laugh about the nightmare you’d had.  He picks Kiaya up from school and is cooking dinner when you get home from work.  You fall asleep on the couch while he watches shows about hauntings and wake up to him draping a blanket over you, his jacket already on, before he goes back to his own apartment.