Chapter 15 – Lexi
fifteen
Lexi
“That night.” I exhale, my whole body feels like it’s being jolted by a taser as I recount a bit of that night to him.
“That night, when I stepped out onto the balcony and heard him say those things.” He looks up at the ceiling and I can see his jaw getting tight, and I reach over and put my hand on his.
Feeling the heat from his hand under mine, I worry if it is too forward, and before I can even snatch it back, he looks back at me.
I’m drawn into his eyes, drawn into him.
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t say them.
” He turns over his hand and now my small one is in his.
“He blamed me about the scene and then sent me home by myself.”
“What a piece of shit,” he hisses before he looks out the window. “He’s such—” The pain in his voice is too much for me to hear.
“Your note,” I say softly and his head whips back my way, “it was exactly what I needed at that moment.” I tell him the truth. “It was a light in the darkness.”
“Lexi.” His voice sounds broken.
“Anyway.” I pull my hand from his. “I called my father and that morning I was out of my house.”
“You could have called me too.” He grabs his plastic cup of coffee and takes a sip. “But I’m happy you made that call and you’re here now.”
“Yeah,” I reply, grabbing my fork and taking another bite of the cinnamon roll and then cutting a piece off and holding out the fork for him to grab it. Instead, he smirks at me and leans down to grab the piece from the fork while I’m holding it. “Don’t say I didn’t share.”
“You look good, Lexi,” he compliments and I look down right away when my cheeks heat up. “You looked amazing before this, but now you just…” I look up at him as his words penetrate. “I’m so fucking happy you left him.”
“How did you know?” I ask him, even though I asked him before and he didn’t answer. I vowed not to, but I can’t help it.
“Well, you know my dad died,” he reminds me, and I nod and see his Adam’s apple rise and fall.
“You know what?” I hold up my hand. “I’m sorry I pushed it.”
“No, not at all.” He shakes his head. “My stepfather was exactly the way Trent was. He was a grade A narcissist and then the head of the gaslighting association.” He tries to joke, but I can see the pain in his eyes.
My hand moves again, automatically going to his to hopefully give him the same strength he gave me.
“Of course, when you’re ten, you don’t know it’s not normal.
I was, I think, fifteen or sixteen when I figured it out.
My friend’s house was nothing like mine.
I saw them have a relationship with their parents that was loving and caring, and I knew just by the way they spoke to each other that something wasn’t right in my own home.
We were almost like robots. Whenever we got out of line, he would turn it around and tell us how to act but, at the same time, make it like we wanted to act that way.
” He turns his hand around again and this time my fingers slip entwined with his.
“When I left for college is when I sort of broke free of him and I became ‘the enemy.’ He passed away three years later.”
“I’m sorry that that happened to you. Thank you for sharing that with me. It means a lot…” I say softly as I look into his eyes with a small smile. “Enough heavy talk,” I tell him. “How was practice?”
He smiles, but his hand never leaves mine. “It’s good. I was just coming from there,” he tells me and the phone in my bag rings.
I slip my hand out of his as I reach in and pull it out. “It’s Ariella.
“Hey,” I answer, putting my phone to my ear, looking over at him grabbing his cup of coffee and wondering if it would be totally insane to lean over and just kiss him. Obviously, I would never do it, but there is nothing wrong with imagination, is there?
“Are you okay?” she asks me, and I can hear worry in her voice and I close my eyes.
“Yeah, sorry, I got out of class and stopped to have a coffee. I should have called.”
“Oh my God, I’m annoying.” She laughs. “I was just worried.”
I smile. “All good, I’m on my way home now,” I tell her and look over at Kirby, even though I don’t want to leave him yet.
“Okay, see you soon,” she replies, hanging up the phone and I put it back in my bag.
“I should go.” I push away from the table. “I’m going to go and get some things for home,” I tell him. “You don’t have to wait for me.”
“I’ll be here,” he assures me and I nod at him, getting up and walking back to the counter. The girl comes out from the back.
“I’d like to have two cinnamon rolls to go,” I tell her, “with a couple of other things you think would be good.” I smile at her.
“And if you can wrap up an extra cinnamon roll in a separate bag,” I ask her and she smirks at me.
“Can I also have a container to wrap up the one I have? Sorry.” I hold up my hand. “I know it’s a lot.”
“You’re fine,” she assures me and prepares my order and hands me the two bags before swiping my card. “Have a good one,” she says and I nod, walking back to my table, sitting down and grabbing my cinnamon roll, placing it in the takeout container before licking the stickiness off of my fingers.
“Ready?” I ask him, wiping my hands with napkins and putting the container in the bigger bag.
“I guess,” he says, grabbing his empty plastic container while I grab my half-full one.
He puts his hand on my lower back as we walk to the door.
Stepping out before him, my heart races quickly as we stand in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Where are you parked?” he asks me and I point to the white Land Rover parked right to the side of him.
“Oh, okay.” He takes a deep inhale. “It was good seeing you,” he says nervously as he leans in and kisses my cheek. “It was better than good seeing you.”
“It was better than good seeing you too.” I laugh at his choice of words.
“We should do this again sometime,” he suggests and I can’t help the smile that fills my face. “Whenever. As soon as possible.”
“That sounds good,” I agree, my hand gripping the bags tighter. “Oh,” I say quickly, “I almost forgot.” I hand him the bag with the single cinnamon roll. “For you.” I hold it up for him and his hand comes out to grab it. Our fingers graze each other and I swear my body shivers. “For later.”
He looks into the bag and he laughs. “I’ll think of you the whole time I eat it,” he teases, and I bite my lower lip, trying not to giggle like an idiot.
He takes a step closer to me and hugs me with his free hand.
I close my eyes as I inhale his musky scent.
The hug lasts a little longer than it should, but I’m not complaining.
He lets me go and I reluctantly walk over to the new car I bought for myself the month after I was in California and decided I would be making this my home.
I get into the SUV and put my things on the passenger seat before I put my hand on my forehead.
Letting out a huge exhale, I then look to see him walking away.
“That was not on my bingo card for today,” I mumble, starting the car and pulling away from the curb.
I’m halfway down the street when the phone rings. I look in the center console to see my lawyer calling me, her name in the middle of the screen, Marley Schrimmer. I press the button on my steering wheel. “Hey, Marley,” I say her name as I turn and head toward Ariella and Jaxon’s.
“Lexi,” she says my name almost sighing, “I have news.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised. It’s been two months since I hired her.
I know I should have called Ryleigh, my cousin’s wife, but I was still a little embarrassed about everything that happened.
She used to be in the DA department in Chicago and then fell in love with my cousin who played for Nashville.
She quit the DA department and is now doing family law.
From what my sister has said about her, she’s cutthroat.
My parents don’t even know I hired a lawyer yet.
It was something I did without telling anyone.
It was step one after I got a therapist.
“His lawyer called today and he wants you to sign an NDA and he’ll give you twelve million dollars.” I look at the screen. “But you can never, ever talk about him or the relationship.”
“What do you mean?” I ask her.
“No interviews, no gossip, nothing,” she fills me in. “Basically, your relationship is like it never happened.”
I shake my head. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”
She gasps, “It’s twelve million dollars! What is there to think about?”
“Right, but if I take it, then he again has control over what I do.” I shake my head, knowing I’m going to have to fire her. We are obviously not on the same page, and she didn’t listen to a word I said when we had our meeting.
“Gotcha,” she replies as I pull into the driveway. “Well, how about you think about it and let me know?”
“Will do,” I say, disconnecting the phone and turning off the SUV. I grab the bags from the seat next to me, getting out and shutting the door with my hip.
Walking up the steps, I open the door and listen for a second before announcing I’m home. I hear Ariella’s voice coming from the family room. “I’m back here.”
I kick off my shoes on the mat and put my bag down at the step before walking back into the family room.
I spot her sitting on the couch with Jagger nursing.
“Hi,” I say to her and the sound of him unlatching from her breast fills the room as he looks over at me, giving me a smile and then going back to his meal.
“Now that’s the smile of my dreams.” I squeeze his foot, making him kick me away.
“He’s a charmer.” Ariella grabs her water jug and takes a deep sip of water as I walk over and place the white paper bag in the middle of the island.
Then I walk back over to the family room and sit on the floor next to Jagger’s toys, stretching out my legs.
“What’s in the bag?” she asks over her shoulder.
“The most amazing cinnamon rolls I’ve ever tasted in my life,” I declare and she laughs.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” she retorts.
“You spent the last ten years without sugar, so you don’t really have the perfect palate for that.
” I can’t help but laugh and it interrupts Jagger again, who unlatches and looks over at me.
He squirms in her arms and she pulls down her tank top before getting up and handing me Jagger, who now has his fist in his mouth as he gives me a gummy smile.
“Hi, my chonker,” I coo softly, kissing his neck before looking at the table, seeing there are pictures scattered all over.
“Did you have a good afternoon?” I ask him and he gurgles at me.
I turn and place him on his back in the middle of his activity mat.
He knows right away to kick his feet to hear the piano by his feet sing the music.
“What are all these?” I cross my legs and pick up a picture of an office.
“That—” Ariella starts, taking one of the containers out. “You brought me a half-eaten cinnamon bun?”
I laugh at her face. “No, that’s for me after. I brought you a whole new one. One for Jaxon also, so you don’t have to share.”
“You love me!” she shrieks, turning to grab a fork and then coming back to sit on the floor next to Jagger.
I watch her take her first bite and see her eyebrows go up at the same time her eyes go big.
“Okay, this is good,” she praises mid-chew and I laugh at her looking at the pictures.
“That”—she points to the pictures with her fork—“is for the office I’m designing.
Actually, I was going to talk to you this morning about it.
” She used to do marketing with social media but always dabbled in design.
She decided to get her interior designing degree while pregnant.
Now she just does that and she makes her own hours.
“You need help designing?” I snort. “My whole house was cream and beige.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “It’s for the new foundation that I had a meeting with the other day. Helping women and children leave toxic and abusive families. Really small for now,” she says. “One person works there, and they’re looking for someone else.”
“Okay,” I say, unsure of why she is telling me this.
“I think you should apply for the job.” She puts the roll to the side as “Mary Had a Little Lamb” plays in the background.
“What?” I ask, shocked, not sure I really heard her.
“You can help people like you, who don’t know what steps to take. Why don’t you go on the website and see what their mission statement is?”
“I don’t know.” She gets up and walks over to the front door as I look down and see how bright and colorful she is making this office.
She comes back a couple of seconds later and hands me a card.
I look down and see K. Hayes and her phone number under it.
The name of the foundation is in the middle of the card, Make the Choice.
“I haven’t had a job in over ten years.”
“You have nothing to lose,” she tells me, taking another bite of her roll. “You apply for the job and then see if you’re a good fit. No harm, no foul.” I turn the card around, my hands shaking. “The first step is to apply. Then you see what happens next.”
“I’ll think about it,” I reply and then Jagger lets out a huge shriek and we both turn to look at him.
Later that night while I’m in bed, wearing my plush robe, I open my laptop and type in the foundation name. The website pulls up right away and I see the mission statement right in the middle of the screen.
Our Mission:
Abuse happens in all different types of environments and in different forms.
Our mission is to help people impacted by this. To help them survive and thrive through awareness and community engagement and education.
I look over at the top where the contact button is and press it, and it brings me to an email page.
I swallow down the lump as my hands fly over the keyboard composing the email.
Hello, Ms. Hayes,
I came across your website and was wondering if you were looking for anyone to help at the foundation. I would like to set up a phone call if you do have anything available.
Please feel free to contact me at any time.
Lexi Petrov
(602) 521-1002
I press send before I can take it back, then shut the top of the laptop at the same time the sound of swooshing ends, telling me the email has officially been sent. “Well, here goes nothing.”