KEPT_ A Second Chance Fairy Tale(36)
She smiles again, wider this time. Her finger makes a cross against her chest in a bullshit promise. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
“I’ll talk to Mom. Just be good. And it’s probably not a bad idea if you start staying at your own place. I know Grace loves it here, but it’s not good for her or you, and it gives Mom the wrong impression.”
“I know. Thank you for coming. I needed the break.”
“So did I,” I mumble to myself and head to the front door.
“This part makes me really sad,” Grace says softly, burrowing further into Lucy’s side and pressing her face against her ribs. Lucy can’t be comfortable, but rather than push my niece away, she wraps her arm around her and rests her hand on her small back. “His mom’s gonna diiiiie.”
Lucy’s face is red and her eyes are swimming in tears. For the last ten minutes, I’ve been standing at Grace’s door, watching both of them fidget in reaction to what’s happening on TV. I know the story of Bambi, but even my chest aches as if I’m about to witness it for the first time.
After we got home from the park with Grace, I told Lucy I had some things I needed to do, and it included being on the phone. She didn’t miss my chastising sarcasm, daring her without words to challenge me. After being as close as I was to her all day, I decided we both required space, and she agreed to let me do whatever I needed.
“It’s coming, Grace,” I hear Lucy warn calmly just before the sad scene starts to play out. I watch as Grace’s body jerks in a soft sob, and Lucy pulls her closer into her side.
“Tell me when it’s over,” my niece demands. “I’m not looking.”
Lucy, finally sensing I’m near, swings her gaze to mine and her lips part with silent surprise. It’s then I note she looks tired, curious, and a little concerned as she takes in my appearance.
Movie, she mouths, pointing to the television screen.
Ah, I mouth back, walking to the bed and coming around to stand on her side of it.
Grace doesn’t look up, but senses I’m here. “I’m not looking. Bambi’s mama is about to diiiiie,” she stresses.
“I can see this, bear.” I smile as I look at her. Once I’m satisfied Grace won’t interrupt, I tell Lucy what I came to say. “I’m headed back to the hotel. I have a few things to do tonight.”
“Thought you were off today,” she counters. “Need any help?”
Her offer doesn’t surprise me, but I decline. “No.” Not wanting to leave, but knowing I should, I advise, “Have your sleepover. I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
“Okay,” she whispers quietly.
Hearing her breathy response, my eyes focus on her and, in that second, there wouldn’t be anything that could force me to look away. I shouldn’t want to touch her, but hell if I can’t help wanting to now. After watching Lucy with Grace all day, being home and around my family, seeing how she fits, then talking to my sister, I’m suddenly not happy with the sleepover that’s planned. I want to take Lucy back with me.
Shit.
Before forcing myself to leave, I stop near Grace’s side of the bed, take a seat, and move her hair from her face, which is still buried in Lucy’s side.
“Bear?” I gently prod. Her body shifts in my direction, so I lean down to kiss her forehead. “Goodnight.”
“Kiss Lucy, too!” she exclaims loudly.
Her obvious excitement causes me to turn my head to Lucy. Her eyes widen first, but then she offers a soft, knowing look.
“Kiss her goodnight, too!” Grace cheers again.
Smiling and looking down at my excited niece, I reply, “Lucy doesn’t want my kisses, bear.”
“Everyone wants your kisses,” she assures me, using her five-year-old claim as law.
I lift my head to Lucy and our gazes lock. I should walk out, leave this as what it is—a passing moment like all those before should’ve been.
But I won’t.
Leaning over Grace, I use the front of my fingers to wipe the stray tears off Lucy’s flushed cheek. She closes her eyes, accepting the gesture. My lips brush her cheek gently, and I inhale before moving in to kiss the other. My mouth gently grazes her forehead. Knowing I should pull back, I still don’t. I feel her breath on my face before I touch her lips with mine.
Having enough of that, Grace adjusts to peer over me before she explains, “We can’t see anything, Lucy. Uncle Mike, you gotta move so she can see.”
A familiar voice breaks through the room. “Oh, Gracie. I think Lucy can see all she needs to, honey,” Deni advises.
Hearing her voice, I quickly sit up and regretfully pull away, keeping my eyes on Lucy. She swallows hard and her face turns another shade of red. I offer a look of reassurance, but it’s not helping.
“Bedtime,” Deni calls. “Uncle Mike needs to go so the girls can have a sleepover.”
“Uncle Mike should go,” I whisper to Lucy and start to stand.
As I pass Deni, she leans in and hugs my side.
“Yeah. She sure does make you nuts,” she chastises.
“Cool it, Deni,” I murmur.
She smirks as I make my way out of the room. “Goodnight, big brother.”
Once I’m free to leave, I again realize I have no desire to go back to the hotel alone.
Lucy
“You don’t seem curious,” Denise observes with a smile as she soothingly rubs Grace’s back for comfort. Her daughter’s been asleep for over an hour, yet each time Deni stops rubbing, Grace fidgets.
Sitting up with our backs to Grace’s large headboard, Deni and I have been skimming through the late-night talk shows and discussing each celebrity’s life as if we know them—more importantly, how much we’d like to be them.
“Curious about what?”
“Michael,” she answers, still smiling. “You must know him pretty well if you don’t have anything important to ask his adorable little sister.”
“I really don’t know him,” I return honestly. “He keeps to himself.”
Other than our quick conversation yesterday, where I found out more than I ever have before, I really don’t know him.
“There’s a reason for that,” she informs.
“And what’s that?”
“His wife and son,” she says in a quiet breath, twirling a piece of Grace’s hair through her fingers.
Son.
Michael told me last night he’d been married. He didn’t tell me he had a child born from that marriage, though.
“He has a son?” I question, fearing the answer, but having to know. Now that it’s out there, I can’t ignore it. “I didn’t know.”
“He died five years ago,” she voices with heavy regret. “It doesn’t surprise me he didn’t tell you.”
Even when I was spilling my truth about Gabe, Michael never mentioned he was a father. A small pang of what feels like betrayal flutters in my chest, but I dismiss it in order to hear more.
“He didn’t say anything.”
“He hasn’t talked about him in a long time. No one here brings him up much anymore. At least not when Michael’s around.”
“Will you tell me?” I plead. “I want to know.”
“It was a car accident,” she doesn’t hesitate in saying. “It wasn’t their driver’s fault.”
My heart beats heavily, knowing I had explained how Gabe died and didn’t sense the least bit of the same reaction from Michael.
“He didn’t love her,” she starts again. I assume by the tone she’s using to talk about his ex-wife, neither did she. “Her name was Victoria. Before the wreck, she’d been having an affair.”
If it’s possible, my heart just wept.
“No,” I deny.
“She was leaving Michael for good. When he found out about it, they had a fight. She left the next day and took Caleb with her.”
Caleb.
The name sinks between us, the sad and lost image of a boy looking just like his dad hits, and I swallow hard to blink back the tears for Michael’s loss.
“Corbin knows about it. So does Lillie.”
I think back to advice Lillie gave me in regards to handling Michael. How he comes to terms with things his own way and on his own time. I understand that better now, having survived the sudden loss of my husband.
“He told me he was married,” I utter, relieved he at least told me something. “Last night.”
The look on her face registers surprise.
“He likes you,” she tells me. “I know my brother. Since he lost Caleb, he’s never brought a woman over to meet his family.”
“Oh,” I jump in. “I’m not a woman…like that.”
“No?” she questions, lifting her eyebrows. “‘Cause I’m almost certain you are.”
My eyes scan my lap as Denise stays quiet, letting me process the news of Michael and his lost son. Recalling the image of him sitting on the floor and playing with his niece, the memory of last night’s dream strikes again and I picture Gabe doing the same with Dillon but he never had the chance.
I lost Gabe, but not my entire family. I couldn’t imagine the pain Michael suffered through in losing his. It must have all but killed him.
A relentless pull has me scooting away and lifting the covers from my legs. The pounding of my heart, so heavy with ache, surges through me as I start to panic.