Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
He’s trying so hard to be okay. God, it only makes me love him more.
Because I do.
I love him.
I watch the duo for ten minutes or so, and when Mason announces it’s time to eat, I’m the first to volunteer to get the boys from the playground. I push away from the table, grabbing a juice box for Deaton and a bottle of water for Chase.
I just need to be close.
Chase
I hear her before I see her, the soft shuffle of sandals over the sand.
I don’t look up right away.
I don’t know if I can.
She doesn’t speak, just kneels beside me, offering Deaton the drink she brought over for him.
“Thanks! I was so thirsty.” He smiles, downing half of it in one pull. “We were playing Chase is on the case, and he was being Chase!” He laughs, and I can’t help but chuckle with him.
He’s just so damn cute, and the littlest of things make him happy.
The thought sends a ping through my chest.
Can I make her happy like that if I have nothing to offer but myself?
I swallow, and in my peripheral, I see her look my way.
“You want to play?” he asks her, his little legs kicking over the edge of the jungle gym.
“I’d love to play, but your daddy was hoping you’d be ready to eat.” She smiles at him. “I even heard your mama say you could have more chips if you ate all your hot dog.”
His eyes go comically wide with excitement, but then he points a finger at her, and I watch curiously, waiting to see what he’s going to say. “But we’re still having some cookies with frosting?”
“You bet we are. I got all the stuff, so we’re just waiting for a certain little boy to eat all his lunch first.”
He jumps up, his little tongue tucked between his lips as he climbs the steps and slips into the slide. He turns back with a smile. “Blast off!” he shouts, then disappears down the bright-yellow tube.
I chuckle lightly, watching as he crosses the sand to the grass, and I don’t look away until Mason spots him coming.
Just like that, we’re alone and the headache that won’t seem to go away constricts a little more.
My eyes flick to her fingers, resting lightly on the edge of the step beside me, an unopened water bottle sitting between us.
I should say something. I hate this stillness between us, and it’s been this way for the last few weeks, but if I open my mouth, I’ll lose the small grip I have left on my emotions. I just want to be strong for her and I don’t feel strong right now.
So instead, I reach out, like I always do. My hand finds hers, and I wrap my fingers around it, warm and small and familiar, and when I finally drag my gaze up to meet hers, she’s already watching me.
Waiting.
Her eyes are so soft that it kills me. She leans into the contact, like it’s all she needs. Like my touch, as tiny as it is, is enough.
And I swear, that nearly breaks me.
I pull her into a hug, burying my face in her neck, and breathe her in, hoping she can feel the real rawness behind it.
It’s a hug that I hope says I’m still here. I still see you.
I’m sorry I can’t be better right now but, but I need you to know you matter to me.
You matter more than anything ever has.
More than the game I might have lost or the future that graduating college could have awarded.
She melts into me, her arms sliding around my waist.
Her head rests against my chest, and I close my eyes.
I wish things were as simple as this day is: food and friends and chilly November air.
If only.
A small voice calls from across the playground, gently tugging us back to reality. “Paige!”
Her name echoes across the yard, and I feel her shift, blinking up at me.
We look over to find a smiling Deaton running this way. He jerks to a stop at the edge of the sandbox, his shoes having come off at some point.
“I’m ready to make cookies now!” He grins, his tiny fists clenched in excitement.
Paige’s expression softens as she looks at him, and her smile is apologetic when she faces me. “Duty calls,” she teases, brushing her lips along my jaw as she pushes to her feet.
I want to tug her back, keep her here, but I’d sooner cut off my own hands than take away from that little boy’s happiness.
I watch her walk across the yard, her arms outstretched as Deaton barrels into her with a laugh. She scoops him up and kisses his cheek, and the way she beams at him… Damn.
She carries him over to a little spot she reserved just for the two of them on the picnic table, and together they start pulling things out of a bag.