Page 26 of Everything We Left Unsaid

Jacob

I groan androll over, slapping my hand against the nightstand in search of my phone. When my fingers graze the screen, I slip them up the side and press the button that affords me nine more minutes of sleep. But my raging hard-on won’t let me fall asleep again as memories from last night flood my mind, sounds of Abby’s sexy moans and panting breaths burned into my brain. It’s been more than two years since I’ve heard those sounds, but I know what they mean. She was turned on. I’ll admit, I chose a sexy movie to get a reaction from her, but I got way more than I expected, even if she did fall asleep halfway into it.

I knew she was dreaming by the way her body tensed up and how she spoke sporadically, her sentences incomplete and nearly incoherent. She even moaned my name a few times, squirming against my side and making me wish she were awake and saying my name. I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her, tangle my hands in her hair, and explore her mouth like I used to.

I finally shook her awake, praying to God she wanted the same thing I did. She startled awake, looking mortified, her face flushed and her eyes wide. I played it off, asking if she was okay and pretended that her noises sounded like distress instead of eroticism. I didn’t want her to be embarrassed. When I left, it was all I could do not to lean in, press my lips to hers, and slip my tongue in between them. Instead, I placed a chaste peck on her cheek and walked away before I did something stupid, something that could ruin the trust I’d been cultivating between us.

I get ready quickly, rushing through my shower and trying to ignore the erection straining between my legs from thinking about Abby’s lips. I don’t have time for that if I want to catch her before she leaves for work.

When she gets home this evening, we’re supposed to head out to a local music festival. It will be our first public outing as a family, and I’m equal parts nervous and excited. I’m excited to spend time with my girls, doing something fun in town. Nervous because her brother’s band is the featured group and there’s a good chance we’ll run into him. How will I explain my two-year absence to him? Will he even believe me if I try? I’m sure he knows everything from Abby’s standpoint… the shitty texts, the cruel letter, her steadfast belief that I abandoned her in the very moment she needed me most. Will he give me a chance to plead my case, or will he try to kill me on sight?

I pull into her drive and rush up the front porch steps. The door is unlocked so I let myself in. Ama has scolded me about knocking the last couple of days, saying I’m welcome there anytime and to stop knocking. So today I take my chance and walk in like an old friend, or what I really am now. Family.

Chloe is running through the kitchen, her great-grandmother trying to chase her but struggling to keep up. When she hears me come in, she stops and straightens, her obsidian eyes finding me in the entrance. She heaves a ragged breath and braces herself against the counter. She seems disproportionately short-winded, considering how slowly she was moving.

Ama rubs a hand over her chest and shoots me a weak smile. “Getting old sucks,” she declares between gasping breaths, the corners of her mouth turning up. “But like my mother always said, it sure beats the alternative.”

I can tell she’s trying to play off how bad she feels and I worry that something might be wrong, but I don’t want to overstep my bounds. Maybe it is just age. She’s easily well into her sixties, but she seems so active and healthy.

Shaking off my concern, I step into the cramped kitchen and set a cardboard drink container on the table. I’d stopped to get drinks for everyone, including a chocolate milk for Chloe. She squeals when I scoop her into my arms.

“Dacob!” she exclaims with a toothy smile. “Lub oo,” she croons in her sweet, lilting voice.

My heart swells with love and affection and I have to swallow down my emotions before I can speak. “I love you, too,” I confess. The truth of it slams into me with the force of a Mack truck. It took me even less time to fall in love with her than it did when I fell for her mother. I clench my jaws tight, attempting to quell my emotions. I really don’t want to start crying like a baby in the middle of Abby’s kitchen, but hearing my daughter tell me she loves me for the first time has me struggling to keep my head and heart in check.

When I look up, I catch sight of Abby standing at the threshold between the hallway and the kitchen. She’s frozen in place, eyes wide and shimmering. She witnessed the whole thing. A few rapid blinks and a sniffle, and the moment is lost. She glances away and walks stiffly toward her grandmother.

“Good morning, enisi,” she greets, and they exchange kisses on each other’s cheeks. I hate to admit it, but I’m a little jealous of Abby’s grandma right now. I want Abby to greet me that way every morning.

“Are you okay?” Abby asks, her brow knitted with concern, sensing something is wrong even though Ama has caught her breath and is no longer rubbing her chest. Her uncanny intuition is on par with her grandmother’s.

“I’m fine,” Ama swears with a weak smile. “Just a bit tired.”

“You’ve been tired a lot lately,” Abby laments. “I’m worried about you. You really need to go see your doctor and get checked out. This just isn’t like you.”

“I know, sweetie. I have an appointment in a couple weeks. I’ll talk to him about it then,” she promises. “I’m probably just anemic again. Remember how tired I was last time?”

“Yes, I remember. I hope that’s all it is.”

“I’m sure it is.”

The two women begin preparing breakfast, kindly refusing my offer to help. I hand over their drinks as they work and they each thank me, but Abby won’t meet my eyes. Something has changed between us. Something I didn’t feel last night. The air around us is thick with tension, disquiet radiating from her body. When her fingers brush over mine as she takes the cup from my hand, she sucks in a shaky breath.

“Thank you.” Her voice is quiet, hesitant as she quickly pulls her hand away like she’s afraid of my touch. I try to ignore the niggling feeling that there’s something she’s not telling me. What could possibly have happened between last night and this morning that could have changed things so drastically?

“Time to eat,” Ama announces, placing a platter of French toast on the center of the kitchen table. I settle Chloe into her highchair, her little legs swinging back and forth in excitement, and buckle her in, silently thanking my lucky stars this contraption is less complicated than her car seat. I’m still intimidated by that thing.

We all take our seats and fill our plates. By the time we finish, Chloe is covered head to toe in syrup and my belly hurts from eating way too much, but the food was so good, I couldn’t help myself. If I’m not careful, being around these ladies will cause me to get a little soft around the middle. Maybe I should get in a workout while Chloe naps.

Abby presses a kiss to Chloe’s temple and hugs her grandmother when it’s time for her to leave. She waves at me awkwardly and mumbles a quick goodbye before escaping out the front door.

“Time for a bath,” Ama announces, holding Chloe away from her body to avoid getting sticky handprints all over her shirt as they disappear down the hallway. When she’s finished, she runs back to the living room in a pink and purple striped romper, darting straight to her tote filled with toys.

Chloe plays on the living room floor while Ama cleans the kitchen. She tries to shoo me away when I offer to do the dishes, but this time I insist. She looks so worn down and I want to show her my appreciation for... well, everything. For cooking and feeding me incredible meals every time I’m here. For letting me spend each day with my daughter. For trusting me and believing I would never do anything to hurt Abby or Chloe.

“Do you wanna go outside?” Ama asks as she peers out the window, sunlight flooding the room as she pushes the curtains open. Chloe jumps up and runs toward the door. She stands on her tiptoes, her diminutive body stretched as far as it can go as she reaches for the handle.

“Alright, hold on just a minute,” Ama chuckles. “She reminds me so much of Abby as a child. Couldn’t stand to be in the house if the sun was shining,” she adds thoughtfully.

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