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Sugar on the Edge(59)

By:Sawyer Bennett


Charlie is to me what pain, regret, and misery are to a broken man, and sharing his story with Savannah could spiral me down a hole that has taken me months to climb out of. Yet, Charlie is also sunshine, toothless smiles, and warm baby kisses. He holds the largest chunk of my heart and that should be celebrated.

There’s no denying that Savannah has a piece of my heart as well. She squirmed her way in, set up residence, and has no chance of leaving any time soon. Maybe it’s time for both pieces of my heart to get to know one another.

Clearing my throat, I set my fork down and turn to face her. “That’s Charlie… my son.”

Savannah’s face lights up in a smile, and she pushes at my shoulder with her hand. “You have a son? No way. I can’t believe you never told me.” She turns all the way on her stool to face me and leans forward with excitement, her dinner completely forgotten. “Tell me all about him and spare me no detail.”

Oh, Sweet… you don’t want these details, but I’m going to give them to you anyway.

And because I know what I’m getting ready to tell her is going to wipe that smile right off her face, I raise my hand and stroke her cheek, even as I say, “He’s dead, Sweet.”

Savannah’s face pales and her beautiful brown eyes fill with crystalline tears. Her hand comes up to cover her mouth, and she lets out a half sob. “Oh, Gavin. No. No. Please no.”

My heart twists painfully, not only because it still hurts to say my beautiful baby boy is dead, but also because I see Savannah has taken on all of my agony onto her delicate shoulders. I nod my head at her, giving her the only thing I can… a sad smile.

“Oh, baby,” she breathes out as tears stream down her face.

She launches off her stool and scrambles onto my lap. My arms come around her to hold her in place, and she cups her hands to my face. “Oh, no, no, no,” she murmurs as her lips touch my forehead. Then my eyes, then my cheeks. She nuzzles her face into my neck, placing warm kisses along my skin that are immediately drenched in her tears, and then she buries her face against my collarbone and cries.

My heart swells with her suffering for me, and the bitter ash of telling her that Charlie is dead is replaced by an immense need on my part to help alleviate her own suffering.

Standing up from the stool, I carry her into the living room and sit on the couch, cradling her on my lap. “Shhh,” I croon to her and let her cry herself out while I stroke her back and her hair.

While she pours out her sadness on to my shirt, my gaze travels over to the fireplace. I look at the four framed photos of the Corolla horses that she hung the other day. I had come down from my office to eat some lunch and immediately noticed them. She gave me a shy smile, and I kissed her deeply to show my appreciation.

Studying them now, I find I like them very much in my house. Because Savannah gave me something of hers that was personal. Just as I just gave her something of mine that was personal.

Savannah shifts in my arms and pulls back. She looks at me with tears still swimming in her eyes and says, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

I lift my hand and place my fingers against her lips. “It’s okay you asked. He’s not a secret. What happened to him isn’t a secret.”

She kisses the pads on my fingers, then grabs my hand and kisses my palm… my wrist, before placing her hand against the beating heart in her chest. “I can’t even imagine.”

I lean forward and touch my mouth softly to hers, and she takes in a stuttering breath. “I’m glad you asked. It’s something I want to share with you. I want to share him… with you.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Savannah,” I say as I cut her off. “You’ve turned my world upside down in the few weeks I’ve come to know you. There’s never been anyone that I’ve wanted to share Charlie with. Only you.”

Savannah settles on my lap, places her cheek to my chest, and strokes my arm. “Tell me then. Tell me about your sweet boy. Tell me how he lit up your world, and then left you in darkness. Share it with me and let it unburden you.”

“Oh, God,” I whisper as I lean down to kiss her on the head, squeezing her tight. “How do you always know what to say to me?”

Her hand slides up my chest and rubs me over my heart. “Because I’ve seen what’s inside of here. I’ve felt it… beating true and strong. I feel it when you make love to me, and when you’re fucking me, and when you’re everything to me in between.”

“So sweet,” I murmur with my lips against her head.

I decide to tell her every bit of it, starting from the beginning… starting with Amanda.