Chapter 3 #3
“Miss Ivy said you had a rough day. Wanna talk about it?”
He shakes his head and tears off another piece of lettuce.
His room hasn’t changed much since I set it up for him.
It’s still filled with dinosaurs and planets, but now there’s a galaxy of stars on the ceiling that Ivy painted for him last year.
When the lights are off, it glows. His tattered Tyrannosaurus is sitting in the middle of his bed, and no matter how much time passes, I can still picture that heartbroken little boy standing on my doorstep like it was yesterday.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?”
He pets Jerry and sighs, not taking his eyes off the floor. I wait patiently for him to speak, and when he does, my heart breaks all over again. “Why did my mom leave?”
I sit on the edge of the twin-size bed and pat the spot beside me. “Come here, buddy.”
He leaves the lettuce for his bunny and sits down beside me, pulling Rex, the well-loved plushie, into his lap.
I drape my forearms over my knees and look him in the eye. “I don’t know why she left, bud. She’s not a bad person. She’s just someone who’s made some very big mistakes in her life.”
I met Breanna in high school. We were on again and off again, but mostly off. She was the good Christian girl who liked to use the bad boy to piss off her parents, and I was the fucked up kid who wanted someone to want me, even if it was for all of the wrong reasons.
When the tables turned and I needed a distraction, I got back with Bree one last time, hoping she’d help me forget about the one woman I couldn't have. It didn’t work.
We didn’t work. We were a bullet train headed straight for a cliff, and I didn't care enough to stop it before it went over.
After we broke things off, she left town and never came back.
Until she did… with my son.
I clear my throat and take a deep, steadying breath. “I hate that she hurt you, but I’m not sorry she brought you to me. You’re the best kid in the whole world. I’m proud that you’re my son.”
He pulls his legs onto the bed and wraps his arms around them. His therapist says it’s his way of self-soothing. “The other kids at school were talking about Muffins for Mom day. They said I shouldn’t even go because I don’t have a mom.”
I wrap an arm around his small body and pull him against me, palming his head. “Those other kids are assholes. Don’t listen to them.”
“Dad! You’re not supposed to say that.”
“Yeah, well, it’s true. Just don’t go repeating it.”
He lets out a small, humorless laugh.
“I can talk to your teacher. See if it would be ok for someone else to go with you. Maybe Ivy or Paige.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not the same.”
“Ok. If you change your mind, let me know.”
He sniffles again, and a sharp pang hits me square in the chest. He doesn’t deserve the hand he’s been dealt, and he sure a shit deserves more of a family than I can give him. Some days, I wonder if I’ll ever be enough. When he looks at me like I’m some goddamn hero, it makes everything worth it.
“I love you, buddy.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
I tuck him in, grieving all over again for the little boy who was left behind with an unqualified father and no support system. I still remember the suitcase with a few meager outfits, his birth certificate, and some toy dinosaurs she left with him.
After Bree left, it took a while for Aiden to trust anyone again. Who could blame him when the one person who is supposed to love him unconditionally left and never looked back?
I suppose we have that in common. My mom didn't leave of her own free will, but my dad did, and he took her with him without a second thought for the damaged kids he was leaving behind. It’s not lost on me that Aiden is about to be ten years old—the same age I was when my world turned upside down.
I’ve tried to be a good father, but it’s hard to build a solid foundation when you don’t have a clear blueprint to follow. My dad is arguably one of the worst. I’m doing the best I can, but is it enough? Am I enough?
My father wasn’t always the heartless man who stole my mother from us.
I don’t know what turned him into a monster, or if his cruelty was just lying dormant for years until he finally snapped.
Sometimes, I wonder if I have that hidden darkness within me, too.
If I ever find a woman to love, will I have the capacity to keep her safe—to love her like she deserves?
There’s enough doubt to keep me from pursuing a serious relationship. It doesn’t matter anyway. There’s no room in my heart for someone else. It already belongs to her.
Ruby
I’m reaching for a box of Froot Loops on the top shelf in the breakfast aisle of the Oak Ridge Market when one of my songs starts playing through the speakers.
I toss the cereal into my basket.
If only sixteen-year-old Ruby could see you now.
A small voice reaches me from the next aisle over. “Dad, it’s Ruby! I love this song.”
I round the corner, intending to surprise the kid and maybe take a picture or sign something, until a deeper voice speaks—one I could recognize in my sleep. “What’s next on the list, buddy?”
When I look up, I lock eyes with Liam. He’s standing next to a display of protein powders, because of course he is. His tattooed, corded forearms are on full display as his son reads off a piece of paper.
“Goldie,” Liam says, my nickname flowing off his tongue like the smoothest amber whiskey.
“No, that’s not on the list. It’s oatmeal,” Aiden says matter-of-factly.
I step closer, and Aiden looks up from the list, his hauntingly familiar green eyes widening. The resemblance is striking—it’s like looking at a much smaller version of Liam if he had curly hair. He’s adorable.
Liam clears his throat. “Aiden. This is Ruby.”
“Yeah, Dad. I’m not blind.”
I laugh, glancing at Liam. “Kids are ruthless.” Turning my attention back to his son, I crouch down to his level and offer him my hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“How do you know my dad?” he asks. “We listen to your songs all the time! Starlight is my favorite. Can I have a hug? You’re really pretty.”
“Slow down,” Liam says, a slight smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “One question at a time.”
I hold out my arms and let him walk into them for a hug. He squeezes me tight, like he doesn’t want to let go, and I let him linger longer than I would if it were anyone else’s kid. When he steps back, I answer his question. “Me and your dad go way back. I used to make him listen to me sing.”
“You make it sound like a chore,” Liam says defensively. “I was the very first Ruby Lynn Hayes fan.”
The statement stuns me. He couldn’t possibly mean that. I was just his brother’s girlfriend, ignorant of all of Connor’s red flags until it was too late.
I’d end up alone at the end of the night, just me and my guitar, until Liam would inevitably join me. He was there without fail, every single time. Eventually, I’d end up there on purpose, but he never knew that.
“You like Froot Loops?” Aiden asks, glancing at my handheld shopping basket. He doesn’t wait for my answer. “Me too!”
“He’s a big fan,” Liam says. “He’ll talk your ear off if you let him.”
“I don’t mind. In fact, what’s next on your list? We can finish shopping together,” I offer.
“I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than hang out with me and my kid at the grocery store.”
“Nope. What’s next on the list, little man?”
“Hmmmm…” Aiden purses his lips and scans the page, his nose scrunching. “Broccoli.”
I place my small basket inside Liam’s full-size shopping cart and crouch low. “Hop on.”
“Like… a piggyback ride?”
“Yep. If we’re gonna go to the veggie section, we’re gonna make it a fun adventure.”
Aiden beams and climbs onto my back, wrapping his arms around my neck. I stand a little wobbly at first and hop to adjust his position. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
Along the way, Aiden points to a few items not on the grocery list, and I toss them into the cart. I can feel Liam’s scowl boring into the back of my head, but I don’t have a single fuck left to give. This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.
Wow—that’s pathetic.
By the time we get to the veggies, Aiden’s picked out a box of fruit snacks, chocolate chip cookies, some kind of protein bars his dad likes, and a box of freezer pops.
I let Aiden down somewhere near the produce as Liam tosses the broccoli into the cart.
Liam steps beside me, both of us reaching for a bag of baby carrots.
Our fingertips brush, and my body reacts like it always does when he touches me, yearning for more.
His green eyes bore into me, and everything around us fades into the background.
I can see every detail of his handsome face up close, from his perfectly trimmed beard to the freckles dotting his forehead and nose.
This isn’t the Liam I left behind ten years ago. Standing before me is a grown man, his face worry-lined and aged to fucking perfection. How had I never noticed how long his eyelashes are? Or the perfect curve of his cupid’s bow?
His throat bobs, and his eyes dart to where our hands are still touching. He drops the carrots before picking another one for himself.
Neither of us acknowledges the moment, carrying on like nothing happened… just like we always do. I often wonder if this attraction is one-sided, but then he gets a little too close, and I know he has to feel it too. How can he not when he looks at me with so much fire in his eyes?
Wordlessly, Liam pushes the cart over to the bakery, stopping in front of a display of ready-made cakes and treats. He grabs a slice of cherry cheesecake and sets it inside my basket—my favorite.
My brow furrows. “What’s that for?”
“Consider it a welcome home treat.”
I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off.
“Did we get everything?” he asks, eyeing Aiden.
Aiden nods and pockets the list.
When we arrive at the checkout, I reach into the cart to grab my basket, but Liam gets there first. He unloads it onto the conveyor belt along with all of his items. I reach for a divider, but he puts it right back into position.
I narrow my eyes at him and replace it, not caring if I seem like a brat.
He takes it away again, but he doesn’t put it back in its place.
“Liam. I can buy my own groceries.”
He pins me with a glare. “Really? I had no idea.”
“Then why—”
“Because I want to.”
“But—”
“Stop arguing with me, Goldie.”
He hands the young cashier his credit card and loads up our bags.
“Have a nice day,” she says.
“Thanks. You, too,” I reply.
She gives us one of those customer service smiles and does a double-take, genuine excitement lighting up her face. “Holy shit. You’re Ruby Lynn Hayes. Can I have your autograph?”
“Sure.” I glance at her nametag. “Carmen, right? Do you have something I can sign?”
She holds out a sharpie, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “Actually, could you sign my arm for a tattoo?”
Tattoo requests don’t faze me anymore. I’ve signed so many body parts over the years, I’ve lost count. I even offered to sign my sister-in-law’s ass when we first met, but she politely declined.
“Are you sure?”
She nods. “Could you write ‘Anywhere but here?’ It’s my favorite song.”
I glance back at Liam, recalling why I wrote that song in the first place. He’s looking away, stoic as ever.
I sign the girl's arm, and we take a couple of selfies.
“Thank you so much,” she says.
“You’re welcome, Carmen. It was nice to meet you.”
She turns her attention to the next customer, offering her apologies for the holdup, while I join Liam at the end of the counter.
“That was so cool,” Aiden says. “I want a tattoo, too!”
Liam chuckles and ruffles his hair. “Not until you’re much older, buddy.”
Liam helps me load my groceries into my truck, and Aiden gives me one more hug.
“Tell Ruby thank you for shopping with you,” Liam says.
“Thank you, Ruby.”
“Anytime, little man.”
They walk back to Liam’s truck, and I wave, my attention lingering on the back of the man who has unknowingly held a piece of my heart for the better part of ten years.
“Where do you want to go, Goldie?”
“Anywhere but here.”