22
Christian
I had never experienced anything like this before. Coming from a troubled background and surrounded by addiction, I was astounded by the way Maeve interacted with her children and parents. I was honestly in shock, overwhelmed by the display of genuine family connection.
"Italian ice?" Maeve's melodic and soothing voice snapped me out of my swirling thoughts. I focused on her words, anchoring myself to her voice.
"Yeah, I know a great place with a nice patio overlooking the ocean."
"That sounds perfect." No, her hand resting on my thigh, as if it belonged there, was fucking perfect. Her silky voice unraveling my thoughts was perfect.
When we finally arrived at the ice cream parlor, I pulled into the parking lot and put the car in park. She reached over to open her door, but I stopped her.
"Let me." I closed my door and went around to her side, opening it for her. She didn't move, just stared up at me.
"I think I prefer you when you're being rude to me. Stop being so nice." Once again, I smiled. I was a fucking bodyguard, someone who dealt with violence and death on a regular basis. Smiling was not my thing. I usually preferred blending into the background and being the silent observer. But at this moment, I felt alive in a way I hadn't in a long time, and I had a sneaking suspicion that I knew exactly why—or rather, who—was responsible for that.
We walked over to the counter, ordered our Italian ice, and then found a seat on the oversized patio. Despite the darkness, the cool ocean breeze and salty air permeated the chilly night sky, creating a serene atmosphere.
“Can I ask you something personal?” Maeve asked as she dipped her spoon into her strawberry ice.
“Of course.”
"When you mentioned I was lucky earlier, was it because you don't have a relationship with your family?" I assumed she was aware that my family was not involved in my life. They never attended our friends' weddings or holidays. Julian was the only one who knew the whole story. But being here tonight, witnessing Maeve's kindness toward her own family, somehow softened everything for me.
"My mom was an addict. I don't have a relationship with my dad, and honestly, I'm not even sure who he really is. Growing up, it was a constant cycle of hotel rooms. My mom would sell herself for a fix and occasionally toss me some ramen." Her hand reached out toward mine. We sat in two Adirondack chairs, slightly facing each other, but I kept my hands tightly gripped around my cup of Italian ice.
"It's fine—"
"No, it's not, Christian. I couldn't imagine doing that to my kids. I mean, can you imagine leaving Kelsie and Kinsley for a fix?" I couldn't.
"No.”
"They're not even your biological children. Technically, we're just friends, and you know, it's all so messed up. I'm really sorry you had to go through that."
“That's why I joined the military,” I confessed. Then I did something I rarely did. I guess tonight was full of firsts. “When I was in high school, I fell in love with a girl whose parents felt sorry for me. I moved in with my girlfriend when I was sixteen.”
Maeve leaned forward in her chair and placed a comforting hand on my knee. The warmth from her skin sent a rush of memories flooding my mind, intermingling with the present moment.
“I knew I needed to get out and do something with my life,” I began, my voice tinged with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. “That’s when I enlisted in the Marines. It was my way of escaping the cycle I was trapped in with my mom. It was either get up and do something for myself, or end up just like her.”
Maeve's eyes held a deep understanding as she listened intently. “That took a lot of courage,” she acknowledged, her voice filled with admiration.
“As only a teenager, you were resilient to your environment. You wanted to carve a new path out for yourself.”
I nodded, grateful for her understanding. “It wasn't easy, but it was the best decision I ever made. The military provided structure, discipline, and a sense of purpose I’d never known before. It gave me a chance to prove myself, to become more than the circumstances I was born into.”
Her fingers gently squeezed my knee, offering silent support. At that moment, I felt a profound connection with her, as if she could see the layers beneath the surface, the battles I had fought, and the demons I had overcome.
“But you know,” I continued, my voice filled with a mix of gratitude and regret. “I felt some sort of sense of duty to my girlfriend at the time. I wanted to get her out of our shitty hometown and thank her for everything she did for me. She saved my life when I was a kid. We decided to get married, not out of love, but to collect more housing money. It sounds foolish, I know, but I felt like I owed her something for saving me."
Maeve's gaze softened, her eyes reflecting compassion and understanding. "Sometimes we make choices out of necessity or survival," she said softly. "But what matters is how we grow from those experiences and the lessons we carry with us."
“You aren’t mad?” I was so nervous about telling her that I had previously been married.
“No.” She laughed. “Unless you are somehow still married today?”
“No.” I shook my head. The thoughts that usually spiraled out of control right now were quiet. I knew exactly what to say, which was a first for me.
As I gazed back at her, I felt renewed gratitude for the path I had taken, even with its unconventional twists and turns. And at that moment, sitting on the patio with the cool ocean breeze enveloping us, I couldn't help but feel that fate had brought us together, two individuals with complex stories and shared resilience.
The night sky cast a gentle glow on Maeve's face, highlighting her strength and beauty. I reached out, finally letting go of the cup of Italian ice, and gently placed my hand over hers, intertwining our fingers. It was a silent acknowledgment of the weight of my confession.
“We got divorced when I was getting out. The military was good to me, but unfortunately, when I injured myself and I knew I was getting out, I started drinking to drown my sorrows. She divorced me pretty quickly because I turned into a fucking asshole when I drank.”
“Even more so than you are now?” she jeered, and I squeezed her hand playfully. “I know sorry doesn’t really cut it, but for what it is worth, I am sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“You want to walk down to the beach a little? It’s dark and cold, but I’m feeling adventurous,” she offered, and I nodded in agreement.
We walked down the path to the beach, where we took off our shoes and stuck them in the corner of the path. The sand felt cool and wet underneath my feet, and the tide was pretty close, so the waves were crashing in.
“When I was married to Tyler, he banned me from going to the beach. He told me it was too dangerous both because the water and tides could suck you up and second because there was a lot of theft at the beach.” She looked out into the dark ocean, illuminated by the overhead moonlight.
“But I love the beach. I love the waves. I love the way the sand feels on your toes. It feels grounding." Her voice was much quieter now, and I took a few steps forward, matching her pace. We walked silently a few feet down.
There were some houses behind us, and the string lights' warm glow allowed me to see the thoughts etched deeply in her brows.
“Sometimes when I get super overwhelmed, it's hard for me to feel grounded. I feel like all these thoughts float around me, and it’s hard to string a sentence together. Tyler always called me stupid for stumbling over my words,” she confessed, and I reached out to grab her hand. I knew exactly what she was talking about.
“For me, it’s when I get overwhelmed. When it gets too much and I cannot visualize the path I need to take, then I start drinking. Obviously, it’s gotten much better, but that is where my issues stemmed.”
“I’ve never met anyone who understood what I meant.” She squeezed my hand tightly—a shiver of understanding passing through us. I stopped us and pulled her around so we were facing each other. A breeze passed through the space between where we stood.
“Maeve.” I swallowed…hard. The way her eyes glistened in the glowing light, the way she rocked back on her knees waiting to see what would happen.
“What is happening between us?” she asked.
“I have no fucking clue.” I took half a step closer to her. The sounds of people in the distance slowly muffled. My heartbeat quickened and grew loud in my head.
“You don’t even like me.” Her voice came out low and strained.
“A lie.” I looked down at her thick, full lips. She dropped her hands to her side and let go of mine.
“What are we doing, Christian?”
“We’re living in the moment.” My lips crashed down onto hers, and I grabbed her waist to pull her close to me. The ocean breeze rippled through her hair as she melted into my arms. Her body let go of whatever anxious thoughts held her back.
Our mouths opened, letting our tongues slip in and explore the depths of each other. But it was a primal and desperate need. Quickly, our kiss went from exploratory into something full of an animalistic drive.
It was different from any other woman I had ever kissed. In fact, I didn’t actually like kissing women on their mouths. It always felt too intimate. I preferred to just get in, fuck them, and go home. If I started kissing and cuddling, then expectations grew, and I would never be able to provide them. This, right here, was different. It was almost as if I wanted the expectations to grow. I spent a lot of time trying to quiet my thoughts and think about what I was doing. I needed to remember the consequences this had, but then our mouths were fucking, and my mind was tranquil as I let myself be in the moment.