Page 90 of Force a Date

No.

My jaw slowly begins to unhinge because that was three whopping slaps to the proverbial face on why he is the way he is.

And I don’t know what to say.

Sorry sounds lame and repetitive. It doesn’t fully embody a thing but something you feel obligated to say. And I don’t know how to console, empathize, or even gauge a betrayal like that. The absolute trauma he was forced to face.

“You don’t have to say anything else,” I concede because this went from come see me to I’ve been royally fucked over within two point one seconds.

“You want to understand me or not?” His tone is clipped, anger and irritation coursing through each syllable, but I have this inkling that he needs to get it off his chest. That it’s been festering in his soul for too long.

“I do,” I reply softly. “But I don’t want you to get upset.”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest but it doesn’t brim with exuberance but absolute devastation. “I’m way past that, Op. I’m buried with it.”

My chest instantaneously aches for him in ways I didn’t even imagine could exist. This art of a man has been through it. He’s lived a colorful life, almost got married, and had a child. Then life battered him and took it all away.

“How about I skip out on the birthday cake?” I mutter softly. “And I’ll bring you something?—”

“Why don’t you shut up for a second and let me explain?”

Okie…

I know I talk a bit when I’m nervous, but this obviously isn’t the time to be rambling on and on about not talking about it. He must want to get it off his chest, somehow, some way, and I’m not going to be the one who stops it.

Remaining still, I wait for Hudson to reveal his story. Of the demons he still fights possibly every day.

“I…” He immediately stops and I feel the discomfort of him opening up radiate from his body. Slowly, I wrap an arm around his waist and gently pull him flush against me, trying to offer comfort in the only way I know how without words. “Bianca was my whole world. I worshipped her.”

Jealously rips through me like a slice of electricity before Hudson lifts his chin and stares at the siding of my parents’ house.

The sound of crickets and a dog barking somewhere in the distance is the only background noise offered. And I’m on edge with his next words and the heartache that may ensue that I can’t fend off or fight back.

“When I found out she was pregnant, I was thrilled. Fucking elated. She made me this bracelet made out of beads and shit…says daddy on it.”

I’ve seen it once, but then never again. I subtly asked around the shop if Hudson had any family but received nothing in return. It seemed to be one of those well-kept secrets that everyone seems to know not to share.

“How…long ago?” My question is barely audible to my own ears but Hudson hears it because he answers.

“Three years. I lost her, the baby, and my best friend. She was sleeping with him and thought that since he was so close to me I’d never find out, I guess. I don’t even know if the baby was mine. I couldn’t bring myself to do any testing…I didn’t want to know. That baby was my new chapter. My life. She wasn’t even born yet and I had every plan in the world. I was going to give her everything.”

I literally want to melt into a puddle and sob.

Tears brim my eyes but I refuse to let them fall because this isn’t my moment. I don’t want to take a second away from him and have the focus on me.

The idea of losing a child is devastating alone in itself. I couldn’t imagine being stripped of Rory and never experiencing her smiles. The cooing and the laughter that bubbled from her little body. I’ve been fortunate enough to receive those things tenfold.

“I buried myself at Rapture Ink,” Hudson continues. “Went on with my life. That’s why I’ve never searched for someone to spend time with. Why I’ve never wanted to. It died with her and that was it. I wasn’t looking to rehash old shit again.”

Because he’s fearful it’ll happen again.

I’d apologize for everything he’s gone through but I don’t regret this. What’s happened between us and how uncomfortable and comfortable he makes me feel.

Hudson challenges me to be brave. To take on the world with a middle finger. To pursue my dreams even when it’s hard.

And I don’t want to go through my life asking what-ifs and what I could’ve done differently. So, if that leads me to a broken heart down the road, I’ll pin it on my chest and wear it proudly because I said fuck fear and did it scared and no one can take it away from me.

“Sometimes…it doesn’t hurt to rehash shit, Hudson,” I offer simply. “The time on your bike was pretty hot.”

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