Cayden
FIVE
I watch Luna smile at my daughter again, and the tight pressure I’ve felt in my chest from the moment I saw her squeezes harder.
My hands curl into fists as emotions I never thought I would feel again rise to the surface.
I should be focused on my daughter right now.
I should be in control and numb, like I have been for the past two years.
Instead…
Instead, something stirs deep inside, awakening parts of me that have been lying dormant.
I know she feels me staring, but I could no more look away than never touch my blades to ice again.
Her brunette hair is pulled into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, and I find myself wanting to set it free, seeing how it feels to run my fingers through it.
It’s her eyes, though, that scare me the most. They feel too familiar…too much like a home I once had.
Those deep emeralds have the ability to draw me in, and I’m afraid of what might happen if they do.
Dragging my ballcap down further, I hide in the shadows where I know how to exist.
Where things are quiet…controlled.
Safe.
But there is nothing quiet or safe about her. She’s a whirlwind of beauty and destruction—the most perfect storm—and if I’m not careful, I’ll find myself right in her direct path.
I watch the flurry of tutus hang on her every word as she guides them in a twirl. It’s easy to see that they adore her. There is an energy about her that is infectious, and I find myself wanting to lean into the pure goodness of it all.
Finally, the class is over, and my tense body begins to relax. The faster I get away, the faster I can ignore the way my pulse beats a little stronger whenever she glances my way.
I’ve done heartbreak before and carry the scars heavily on my soul.
Not the kind that breaks you for a few days or even months.
The kind that breaks you. Period.
It’s bad enough that my heart is walking around outside of my body with Scarlett, paralyzing me with fear that something might happen to her.
I can’t go through it again.
I won’t.
No matter what my body is screaming at me to take.
“Daddy!” Scarlett pulls me out of my thoughts, and I smile as her blond curls come flying my way in an excited hurry. “I got a fairy gift!” She holds up the pink jeweled bracelet on her little wrist.
“Wow. That’s a nice gift. You must have been a very good student today.”
“She was,” I hear softly, looking up to meet Luna standing there. “I was her age when I started dancing, and I can tell she has something special.” She smiles at Scarlett as I stand up, taking my daughter’s small hand in mine. “Will we see you next week?”
Her eyes search mine, and for a minute, I think of finding another dance studio.
Preferably one that doesn’t have a teacher with cute freckles across her nose or a smile that makes me forget about the pain in my past. Not to mention a body that has put images in my head and a thirst that I’m not sure will ever be quenched.
“I’m out of town next week,” I find myself saying, unable to fully sever the connection just yet. “I’ll see if her great-grandma can take her.”
“Perfect,” she beams, before bending down to my daughter’s level and tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. The simple gesture shakes me to the core as I tighten the grip on Scarlett’s hand, eager to be out of here and away from things I can’t control.
“I’ll see you next week,” she smiles. “You danced just like a fairy ballerina today.”
“I danced so big,” Scarlett says, giving her a toothy grin.
“Yes, you did,” Luna laughs. “So big, you almost touched the stars.”
“Mommy is in the stars,” Scarlett adds in a carefree voice, and my whole body tenses.
Luna’s gaze shifts to mine, and I don’t mistake the sadness I see in them as I feel my anger rise.
I don’t want or need her pity.
I get plenty of that outside these walls, so much that it suffocates me.
She averts my heated stare and forces a small smile toward my daughter, who has no clue the bomb she just dropped and the turmoil she just unleashed inside of me.
“I bet your mommy has the best view from up there and loved seeing her little girl so happy today.” Her voice is soft and soothing, making my daughter immediately warm up to her as she nods excitedly at the thought of her mom seeing her dance today.
“Time to go, baby girl,” I push out past the sharp razors in my throat.
Letting go of my hand, she throws her arms around Luna’s neck, causing her eyes to widen in surprise before she melts into my daughter’s embrace.
“Bye, Miss Luna. You’re the best fairy dancer,” she whispers before letting go and taking my outstretched hand.
“Thanks for letting me watch,” I rumble out before walking away, not giving myself the chance to look her in the eyes again, afraid I’ll only see the pain that I’ve tried so hard to break free of.
Pulling the covers up to her chin, I brush Scarlett’s hair back, kissing her on the forehead. The stars and moon circle the room from her nightlight, casting a soft glow across her sleeping features and touching the pink fairies dancing on her walls.
My eyes glance at the photo on her nightstand before I pick it up. It was taken at our old apartment on the day we brought Scarlett home. We had propped up the phone, wanting to capture this moment as a family.
Scarlett’s tiny body is wrapped in a Bolts blanket, and the matching beanie on her head has my number across the front. Jules had surprised me with both on the day she told me she was pregnant.
My arm is wrapped around them as we beam at the camera. Jules’s blue eyes shine brightly with love as I trace her soft blonde curls with my finger, so much like Scarlett’s. The older Scar gets, the more she looks just like her mom.
At first, it was a painful reminder of what I had lost, but now I find comfort in knowing our daughter will have a piece of Jules to see every time she looks in the mirror.
I stare at the happy family, and it’s hard to believe it was close to three years ago. Sometimes it feels like another lifetime, and other times it hits me hard as if it all happened yesterday.
Placing the photo frame back on the nightstand, I make sure the video monitor is turned on in case she wakes up.
Picking up a ballerina doll from the floor, I set it at the white table in the corner of the room with a tea set laid out—evidence of our early playtime before bed.
Shutting the door softly, I glance at her little sleeping figure one more time before I walk to the other side of the condo, where my bedroom lies.
One of the reasons I chose this place was the layout.
I wanted Mae to feel like she had her own space, and with the two levels, it gives us both privacy.
Since I didn’t want Mae having to deal with the stairs, her bedroom is off the kitchen, next to an office that I converted into a playroom for Scarlett.
The master bedroom sits on the second level, with Scarlett’s on the opposite end. Between us is a bonus room where I put in a huge screen TV and comfortable seating, fully equipped with a mini bar, which usually doubles for juice box storage and various kiddie snacks.
Most nights, I unwind up here watching a game and reviewing plays before calling it a night.
Tonight, I find myself too restless and unable to focus on hockey as I pass the sofa, which is saying something since I basically live and breathe it outside of my daughter.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge, I enter my bedroom to change into gym shorts, needing to clear my head and get some sense of control back into my life.
Heading to the walk-in closet, I bypass the king-sized bed and matching black nightstands.
Dark grey curtains hang on either side of the windows, covering one wall with double cottage doors leading out onto a private balcony.
During the day, the blue waters of the Atlantic stretch as far as the eye can see.
Tonight, though, they’re dark and haunting, matching my mood to a tee.
Tying my running shoes, I do a few light stretches before beginning a steady run on the treadmill I have set up in the corner.
Because I’m at the gym a lot with the team, I didn’t find the need to have a full weight system at my house as well, but I learned really early on that the nights are the worst.
During the day, I had hockey and Scarlett to keep me busy, not giving myself the time to be reminded of what I had lost. I immersed myself in being a dad and hockey—the two things that kept me from drowning.
But nothing could stop the silence of the night.
Reaching for something that was no longer there.
Feeling the presence of a ghost so strongly that if you close your eyes, you can almost smell and imagine them there.
I needed an escape—something to block out the pain and exhaust me to the point where the memories couldn’t touch me.
So on nights like these, when my thoughts become too much—I run.
Picking up the pace, my chest is slick with sweat as I push myself harder. Instead of my past demons nipping at my heels, my mind is on something entirely new tonight.
Her.
Brunette hair the color of my favorite whiskey flashes as my legs start to burn at the effort to try and outrun the images.
Eyes as green as the calmest sea, wanting to pull me under, no matter how hard I fight to stop it.
A body that makes me feel things that I haven’t in a very long time—reminding me I’m still alive…that I’m still a man.
My rubber soles fly across the machine as I try to outrun the one thing that wants to bring me to my knees. It’s been wrapping around me since the moment I stepped into the dance studio, waiting for the right moment to sink its claws into me.
Guilt.
Guilt that it should have been me in that car that day.
Guilt that every time I smile or laugh, I forget for just a second that she’s gone.
Guilt…
My muscles burn as what weighs heavily on my mind tonight forces me to pick up speed as if I could stay one step ahead of it, but instead, it slowly seeps through, sending icy shards of fear through my veins.
Guilt, that for the briefest moment tonight…
I wanted the touch of another woman.
It wasn’t because of a memory or a wish that my life could go back to the way it was.
It was something so much worse.
A new light emerging in my darkness—unknown, but feeling familiar at the same time.
Making me want things I’m too terrified to have.
Putting images in my head that I’m too afraid to take.
No…this is so much worse.
Because for the first time in my life, I want someone other than Jules.