Page 17 of Assigned

Chapter Six

Riley

Mason and his friend are in the living room playing video games. I never knew watching kids could be so easy. The two boys didn’t argue, came to eat, scarfed the food down without a word, then rushed back off to continue playing. Maybe video games aren’t so bad. They are definitely making my first day with Mason alone much easier.

And they didn’t require me to change my wardrobe. I lean a hand on the counter and take a second to close my eyes. Blech. Nausea. Not a lot. Just a little. Just enough to make me feel slightly off-kilter. Which is why I’m still wearing my Sexy Kitten pajamas. Not that I feel sexy. They were supposed to lift my spirits when I got them. So, when I’m not one hundred percent, I sport the solid black top with sultry cat eyes made of silver glitter and matching velvet shorts that have Sexy Kitten written all over them.

They’re also my go-to for whenever the sad truth that I haven’t had sex in over five years comes floating to the front of my mind. My celibacy started because of my health. Not to mention the one guy I dated in college walked out on me during a flare-up as if he couldn’t be bothered. Then I moved back home to my parents’ house, although I’m not sure it would have been any better anywhere else. It was hard to be sick and fight to make it on my own, and be sexy all at the same time. In fact, it was impossible.

Which also happens to be why I haven’t mentioned anything to Lucas yet about my condition. Luckily no one really questioned why I didn’t eat much at his friend’s barbeque and he hasn’t said anything the few times we’ve eaten together. I just want a chance to build a solid relationship with someone who doesn’t know about my disease. To see if such a thing is even possible. Not that Lucas is my forever or anything. He’s temporary. But what better way to experiment and see if people do exist who can give me a chance to prove myself as capable before they prejudge?

Also, a premade family is perfect. While I would love to have kids of my own, all the surgeries, along with the Crohn’s, make it too risky. So, marrying a man with a child is a way to safely fulfill that need that still aches in my heart. Mason gives me the opportunity to practice being a stepmom. Maybe more than practice. Maybe really be that stepmom. Except that would mean staying married to Lucas and that wouldn’t be fair to him. “Besides, how am I going to become the new version of myself that I desperately want to be when I’m literally married to my past?”

That is the fifty-million-dollar question.

With a sigh I drop down into the chair at the kitchen table and stare out the window. Lucas has been great so far when he’s been home. We’re developing a friendship built on respect and admiration. But again, he isn’t exactly the fresh start I’d hoped for.

I reach into my purse and take out my wallet. Inside, tucked behind my license, is the very first love letter Lucas ever wrote me. He was such a romantic. Come to think about it, he expressed himself better in his letters than he ever did in words. Though I never minded. There was something exciting about finding a letter hidden in my locker or one that had been stuffed into my backpack when I wasn’t looking.

I unfold the letter and read through it, the pencil fading but the words still readable. How simple those days had been. Brighter and full of hope as well.

Dearest Riley,

This morning when I saw you walking up to my locker, I thought my heart was going to burst. The best part of every one of my days is when you smile at me and this morning your smile was even more dazzling than usual. It’s like all your goodness, your kindness, your bravery, your strength was shining from you and it was all directed at me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt luckier.

But then you took my hand in yours and then that was the luckiest I’ve ever felt.

From the first time I saw you, walking into school our freshman year, you made my heart beat faster. I know now, though, that was shallow. That was all about how beautiful you are. It was about your shining blond hair, your clear blue eyes, your cute little butt. It was about the outside beautifulness of you.

Now I know about the inside beauty of you too. I know how much of you that you give to others. I know how you’ll take time to bottle-feed a little lamb who has no mama. I know you’ll stop to give a hand-up to someone on the other team who’s fallen during a soccer match. I know you never let anything stop you or stand in your way. I know how you look out at the ocean, and instead of seeing danger, you see adventure and opportunity. From the time you jumped on that wild mare to when you backtalk your father whenever he has something to say about the trailer park I live in, you’ve shown yourself to be one of the strongest and most fearless people I know.

I liked you the second I saw you and my feelings are growing stronger and stronger every day. Every new thing I learn about you makes my love grow. Sometimes I don’t think I can love you more, but then you do something brave and smart and kind, and I do.

You are my sun and my moon, Riley.

Love,

Lucas

The letter pointed out everything Lucas liked about me, things my family had seemed to forget because my illness overshadowed the rest. That’s part of the reason I’d always kept the letter in my wallet. For days when I feel less than, for those hard days when I need to wear my sexy kitten pajamas, I can remember the girl I used to be and the woman I hope to become. Maybe I could even become that woman with him by my side. Maybe we could have the life we could have had if I hadn’t gotten sick and sent him away.

If only I could trust Lucas would see the same girl instead of the sick one like everyone else always does once they find out about my battles with Crohn’s.

My thumb grazes over the soft loose-leaf paper. I should really make a photocopy before it falls completely apart. After refolding it, I place it back into my wallet, which I then put back in my purse.

I grab the bowl of honey-flavored pretzel twists, leave the kitchen, and head down the stairs into the family room. “You boys still playing?”

Mason turns his head toward me. “Yea, do you want to play?”

I plop down onto the suede sectional couch and bite into a pretzel as I stare at the screen. “Would love to. But what kind of game is this? Soccer with... cars?”

“Yeah. Here, take the controller. I’ll show you how to play.” Mason jumps to his feet and is at my side.

“She can just do the tutorials,” Parker says.

Mason shrugs, presses a bunch of buttons, then hands me the controller. On the screen is some sort of blue race car with flames coming out of the back. Mason and Parker sit on either side. Mason points at the buttons on the top corner of the controller. “One is RB and the other is LB. If you follow what the screen says, it will tell you how to shoot the ball and move around.”

“Get the yellow balls. Those are for boosting. It helps you go faster,” Parker points out as I drive my virtual car toward a giant soccer ball.

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