Chapter 18
Seth
“Seth, honey, please press charges,” Mom says on the phone.
I’ve asked my dad and her to watch the kids for a bit longer since my throat is still pretty bruised.
I don’t want them to see it. Makeup helps cover it up, but it doesn’t last forever.
I need more time, despite how much I miss them. Thank god for amazing parents.
“I don’t want to take him away from his son, Mom.”
“At least go to therapy. Please.”
“That’s the plan. I need to come to terms with this.”
She sniffles, but I know she’s trying to keep it under control.
When I told my parents what went down, they were appalled and afraid for me.
It took a lot of reassurance from me to calm them down.
Weird, considering I’m the one freaking out.
In hindsight, maybe I shouldn’t have told them.
What purpose did it serve, other than having someone else to talk to about this beyond Calvin? Now, they’re stressed out.
Calvin.
I’d never seen him angry in the short time that I’ve known him.
Is he intense? Yes. Is he a snarky butthead?
Definitely. Sure, we’ve become friends, but I didn’t expect him to want to protect or defend me.
The way he looked like he was ready to kill someone while on the phone had my heart beating harder for him.
My attraction toward Calvin skyrocketed after that short phone call.
I can’t want him, especially after what happened.
It will look like I’m leaning on him as a rebound or something. That’s the last thing I want.
“Seth? Are you still there?”
“Sorry, Mom. What?”
“I was saying that I understand you want to protect his son, but what if that… man hurts someone else?”
“I don’t think he will. He was terrified by what happened. He didn’t mean to.” At least I don’t think he did, but I don’t tell her that. “I promise I’ll be fine.”
And I will be. That’s not a lie. Regardless, I’m still rattled by it all. It doesn’t help that my throat still kills.
“I trust you, honey, but please don’t see him again.”
“No way I’ll see him again. So, how are the kids?” I ask to change the subject.
“They’re fine. Emily has been trying to boss her brothers around, but they’re having none of it. No one will mess with her when she grows up and starts dating.”
“Ugh, no, Mom. My little girl will never date. Ever.”
She laughs lightly. “You can stop it as much as breathing. Besides, she has two big brothers who will always protect their little sister.”
I’m sure they would.
When I see headlights shining through my curtains, I stand, walk to the window, and draw back the curtain. My stomach dips happily when I see Calvin pull into the driveway.
He’s home. Finally.
“Gotta go, Mom. I have someone to see. Kiss the kids for me.”
Before she can respond, I hang up, rush to the front door, and run out toward Calvin’s house. Braeden is already inside, but before Calvin follows him, he stops and turns around as if sensing that I need him. He doesn’t hesitate as he walks toward me. When we meet, he envelops me in a fierce hug.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, pulling out all my earlier pain. I let it all out into his chest as he holds me.
He smells of old cologne and exhaustion, bringing out his human side, not that he isn’t human, but it’s a reminder that we aren’t perfect.
No matter how hard he tries to come across as put-together, he’s not always.
It makes him more relatable. It also wakes me up about my growing feelings for Calvin.
I want him. I want him to always hold me like this when I break because I know he would.
But we can’t. He doesn’t want to date anyone, and he’s got his own problems. I have to accept that we’re simply friends.
He doesn’t say a word as he keeps holding me like a promise never to let go. I inhale him, soaking in his warmth and comfort. He’s strong and solid, and exactly what I need right now. His silence is everything, as much as him holding me.
It’s been so damn long since I’ve been hugged like this. For years, I’ve been running around, taking care of the kids, struggling to focus on myself after Malcolm left. Dating again was a way for me to give myself a little treat for my hard work, but it turned into an utter failure.
Once I get my shit together, I pull away, grab a used tissue in my pocket, and blow my nose.
Still holding the gross tissue, I wrap my arms around myself and stare at my feet, feeling suddenly stupid, needy, and clingy.
Men are always made to feel weak when they cry.
I know it’s not true, but you can’t help but form an image of yourself as such because it’s so ingrained into your soul.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
He lifts my chin with his fingers and stares deeply into my eyes. He looks so tired, and now the guilt is taking over. “Don’t do that. Don’t pull away. You’re allowed to feel what you do without apologies. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
When he lets go, I kick at the grass. “You’ve had a hard time, too, and I’m making this all about me.”
“We already talked about this, Tiger. Life doesn’t stop moving.
You’ve had a massive scare. Don’t diminish that.
It doesn’t take away from what Braeden and I are going through, either.
You can lean on me anytime. I may not be in the best spot mentally, but I can hold us both up for now.
I know you’d do the same in return. Hell, you have done the same for me.
This is the least I can do, but I also want to. ”
“I would definitely do the same.”
Who knew the real Calvin, underneath all that bluster and unseriousness from when we first met, is a sweet, kind guy.
He takes my hand, threads our fingers together, and tugs me toward his house. His hand in mine feels right.
“Are your kids still at your parents’?”
“Yeah.”
Braeden hasn’t turned on any lights after they got home, so Calvin, while still holding my hand, leads me from the entryway to his kitchen, flipping on the lights as he goes.
“How’s he doing?” I ask.
“He’s struggling, but he’s okay, I think. The kid doesn’t talk much, so it’s hard to get a feel of what’s going on in that head of his. He tends to wear his emotions on his face, so it’s clear he’s hurting.”
I sit down at the kitchen island and smooth my hands over the cold quartz surface, while Calvin rummages in his refrigerator. “You hungry?” he asks.
“Not really?”
“Yeah, me neither.”
He stands straight, shuts the fridge door, and holds up a bottle of chilled white wine. “How about some Sauvignon?”
“That sounds great, actually.”
He takes two wine glasses down from his cabinet, fills them with wine, and sets them and the bottle onto the counter. “Drink up,” he says. “Let me give Braeden a quick check. I’ll be right back.”
The wine is fragrant and not too sweet, exactly the way I like it. I’m halfway done by the time Calvin returns.
“Is he okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, he’s scrolling on his phone in bed. He desperately needs a therapist. We still have to wait another couple of weeks. Other than that, he’s sad, but I think all in all, he’s going to be fine.”
“And how are you?”
Calvin’s smile is small and tired. “I’m all right. The funeral was rough. Mostly, I’m worried about you.”
My face heats at his concern. “I’m better. It was scary, and I’ve had a couple of moments where I relived it. I only dated Leo for a few weeks, but it feels like an eternity after this weekend.”
“That fucking bastard hasn’t reached out to you, has he?”
I take a sip of wine and give him a brief smile. “Yeah, he’s tried several times, so I ended up blocking him.”
“Good. Have you talked to your friend about it yet?”
“Not yet. Soon. Edmundo’s going to feel terrible, but he needs to know.” I chuckle humorlessly. “I guess this will be a learning lesson not to set people up on dates.”
Calvin raises his glass and takes a sip. “Cheers to fucking that.”
We grow quiet, and I stare at the stone countertop, not knowing what else to say. I’m still rattled, but I also feel like I’m burdening Calvin. He’s got enough on his plate. Part of me wants to go home and give him space. The other part wants to hold on to him again.
When my eyes land on his, those olive-green orbs watch me closely. He looks at ease, relaxed, sitting on his barstool with his fingers playing with the stem of his glass.
“What?” I ask.
He leans forward and reaches for me. Those long fingers gently touch the bruises on my throat. My body tingles, and I break out in goosebumps, but for some reason, it makes my eyes water. Jesus, I need to get my act together, especially before my kids return to me. I need to be strong for them.
I can’t take my eyes off Calvin as he keeps touching me. When I swallow, he watches the movement.
His thumb brushes against my skin, but then he abruptly coughs and drops his hand.
He lifts his glass, chugs the wine, and sets his glass down.
I watch him meander over to his living room, where he squats and fingers through his vinyl collection.
Finding what he wants, he stands, places the record on the turntable, and turns it on.
A second later, the silence is filled with Frank Sinatra’s warm and velvety baritone as he sings ‘Fly Me to the Moon.’
Strangely, Calvin’s liking this type of music makes perfect sense. I can’t pinpoint why. It just does. He seems more of a Dean Martin type with the sass in his singing, but Frank works, too.
I smile when he places a hand on his stomach with his other arm raised, and does a little spin, swaying his hips as he goes, like he’s dancing with a ghost. He looks like a dork while looking so sexy.
I have no idea how he pulls that off. I shouldn’t think about those things after everything.
I feel like I’m not allowed to be turned on or attracted to another man, currently, but I can’t help it, yet I instantly feel better.