Chapter Seventeen
Emily
I sink into the couch, my body metamorphosing into languid gelatin. This house might be vacant, but whoever lived here before sure knew how to shop for furniture. This couch is less a couch and more a cloud wrapped in fabric. I sigh, and all of last night’s madness — not to mention the fact that I couldn’t sleep until it was almost dawn — that turned my body into a mess of stress, knots, and soreness, fades away like fog in a breeze.
Beside me, Charlie coos and plucks at the bandage on his arm.
“You did good today, Charlie,” I murmur. My words come out slurred and my tongue feels like it doesn’t belong to me. I release a deep sigh as my eyelids flutter closed. It’s barely after sunset, but my body is begging for sleep.
If only I could sleep, but I can’t, because I told Hunter I’d watch Charlie all day, including take him to his doctor’s appointment, while he took care of whatever business needed to be taken care of with the MC. Not that I mind — Charlie’s cute and I want to make sure he has everything he needs, and Hunter… well, Hunter excites me in ways I swore I wouldn’t think about for a long time, but can’t do a thing to fight.
I wonder how much long he’s going to be .
Because, besides being unable to fight the overwhelming sensations that Hunter stirs in my heart, I can’t fight the sleep that’s creeping over me, either. As I let my eyes close, the distant hum of the refrigerator and occasional creaks of the aging house become a lullaby. Charlie's soft breathing beside me is a reminder of the innocence that somehow survives in this chaotic world full of psychotic ex-boyfriends.
Charlie shifts closer, his small hand reaching out to touch mine. His fingers are warm, and I can feel his trust in the simple gesture. The room grows quieter, and my heartbeat slows to match the rhythm of Charlie's. As time inches forward, the lines between reality and dreams blurs. My thoughts drift like leaves on a stream, each one lazily passing before being swept away by the current of impending sleep.
But as much as they’re dreams, so many of them look like reality. Like this moment, where I’m as peaceful as I ever thought I could be considering the terror I felt last night.
This moment, with Charlie half-asleep beside me, with my tired body finally relaxing, with everything with Jay seeming so far away, with Hunter hopefully soon to arrive, it’s as if I skipped five, ten years into my ideal future, where I’ve finished pharmacy school, established myself, and built the family I always dreamed about.
I let it take me, drift into that dream, and feel myself let go.
A door opening and closing starts me awake, and I sit up abruptly, my eyes furiously searching the room for both Jay and for something to hit him with.
“Long day? Did Charlie wear you out?”
Hunter’s watching me from just inside the doorway, his arms crossed, a soft smile on his face.
Carefully, I move Charlie off my lap and into the soft depths of a cushion, then I stand. “No, no, Charlie was great. He took a few naps, he did great in the doctor’s office, and we even spent some time at the park.” I smile down at him. “Charlie was mystified by the ducks. And every time they quacked, he laughed.”
“You did a lot for him today,” Hunter says.
“He’s cute. It made me happy to spend time with him.”
His eyes go to the coffee table in front of me. Papers and notes are spread out on it, along with pens in several colors. “What’s that?”
“A calendar,” I say. I hesitate then for a moment, unsure if my enthusiasm for being organized and prepared has made me overstep myself. Then I remember that, just the other day, Hunter was using duct tape to hold Charlie’s diaper on, and I continue. “There are some important dates coming up for Charlie. Developmental milestones, challenges you need to be aware of, and medical appointments and schedules you’ll need to keep him to. Stuff like immunizations, when he’ll start teething — which should be soon, you need to be ready — and when he can eat solid food.”
He’s quiet, staring, so I keep babbling. “The doctor and I talked. I thought it’d be a good idea to chart this all out for you, just in case I’m not around, and also just to make it easier for you to keep track as his parent. You’ll probably be busy with the MC and I thought having everything in one place would be more convenient.”
“You did all this? Why?”
How do I tell him I’ve dreamed of having a family for a long time, that I thought I’d found the potential to have that with Jay, until he turned out to be so much different from how he was in the beginning? That being around him, around Charlie, makes me think that optimistic part of me that thinks I can still have that isn’t so foolish after all?
“I’m just trying to help.”
He kneels beside me and takes the calendar in hand, then whistles. “This is like a mission plan for his entire first year and a half, complete with primary objectives and sub objectives.” He looks at me again, and his eyes shine with something that seems so out of place in the eyes of such a dangerous man: kind appreciation. “This is impressive. And maybe just a little crazy.”
There’s a gentle, needling tone in his voice that makes me flinch. It’s how Jay used to sound, when he was trying to sound like everything was fine, when in actuality he was teetering on the edge of a tantrum from hell. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Sorry?”
“I didn’t mean to… If I was intrusive, if I stuck my nose where it doesn’t belong, I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again,” I say. Thoughts about Jay, who has stalked the shadows of my exhausted mind all day, relentlessly, only to leap out every once in a while, just like he did last night, and make me feel as if I want to scream because I swear I can feel his hand on the back of my neck, those thoughts surface and rip the apology from my lips in a whimper.
“Don’t apologize for being great.”
“What?”
“You are great at this. When I think about half the stuff you’ve written here, I feel more overwhelmed than when I was a wet-behind-the-years grunt on his first day at boot camp. You make this look easy. You did this, all of this , while exhausted and managing Charlie. Apologizing should be the last thing on your mind. You know what you should be doing?”
Without realizing it, I’m sitting up straighter, drawn by the indescribable, soothing something in his voice. It makes my heart flutter and stills the scared stirring in my mind. “What should I be doing instead?”
“Waiting,” he says.
“Waiting for what?”
“For me to say those two words that you deserve to hear for all this work: thank you .”
Suddenly, I’m not so tired; suddenly, I’m smiling. “You’re welcome.”
Hunter's gaze softens even further as he stands up and moves closer. “You’ve done more than I could have ever expected, you know that?” He glances at Charlie, who is now mumbling softly in his sleep, his small hand clutching a corner of the blanket. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. I feel a lump form in my throat, partly because I'm overwhelmed by gratitude and partly because I never thought I'd hear such words directed at me again. Jay had all but shattered my belief in myself, but here was Hunter, unknowingly piecing me back together.
“I’m just glad I could help,” I say, my voice steady despite the tidal wave of feelings crashing within me.
Hunter nods and then surprises me by reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from my face. His touch is feather-light, but it sends shivers down my spine. “You’re not just helping; you’re making this possible.”
I shiver a moment, then release a deep-seated, exhausted sigh. Despite my efforts, my eyes close a little. It’s not just fatigue, it’s that I feel safe around Hunter. For the first time since Jay’s attack last night, I feel like I can relax. “I really appreciate you saying that.”
“Emily, you deserve more than just words. You’ve been working all day. Let me take you out.”
There was a time in my life where those words would have me on my feet, buzzing, grinning like crazy, ready to do anything. That time was half an hour ago, about when I sat down on this couch and felt the depth of my fatigue. Now, as the man I desperately want and who makes me feel great in a way I thought no man ever would, offers to take me out on what might actually be a date, the best I can manage is to mumble, “Sounds nice.”
Then I fall soundly asleep.