Page 41 of Unbound

“Or you could come with us….”

He stares at me for the longest moment, silence suspended above us like the rainclouds outside.

I’m sitting across from him and reach for the syrup. Our hands touch and I’m reluctant to remove my hand from warmth until he pulls away. I close my eyes, resisting the urge to find warmth where it no longer resides.

For so long everyone wondered why I kept going back to Rawley after the way he treated me. The truth is, though that warmth had been long gone, I kept holding out hope if I gave him one more chance, I might find the boy who stole my heart, and he might see that I was still waiting for him.

He never did, and I never saw that boy again.

But finally, for the first time in years, I see the slightest flicker of him.

He doesn’t answer me right away, and I think for a moment he regrets offering. I watch his chest, his breathing, looking for an indication he might, but it doesn’t come and he tips his head to the right. My eyes dart to his mouth. His lips part. “Do you want me to?”

“I do,” I tell him, attempting to force air into my lungs. “I think you should spend some time with him.” Needing the distraction, I stand from the table and make my way over to the sink where there’s a wash cloth on the counter. I stare out at the backyard as I wait for the water to warm up and then run the cloth underneath the heated water.

When it’s wet, I make my way over to Lyric to clean him up, tears stinging my eyes. I want so badly to shut off my emotions, but I can’t. Not now, maybe not ever with Rawley.

As I wash off his breakfast from his hands, Lyric fusses a little. He hates baths and water on him. Loves to get messy but despises the clean-up process. The only time he ever cries is when I have to bath him or change his diaper.

“Is that your Nissan in the driveway?” Rawley asks, standing from his place at the table. Behind him he reaches for his hoodie that’s draped over the chair next to him and pulls it over his head.

I nod and reach for Lyric in his high chair. “I just need to get his jacket and my purse from upstairs.”

The moment I have Lyric out of the chair, he practically lunges for Rawley. I struggle to hold onto him with both hands and luckily, Rawley’s quick enough to reach for him too and catches him.

The sight of him holding our son is nearly too much and tears overflow. I don’t have time to say, “Hold him for a minute,” or anything before I rush upstairs to gather myself.

From the moment Rawley arrived, I’ve been holding out hope that once he saw his son, something inside of him might change and he’d want to be a part of his life. And then I quickly realized this is Rawley Walker we’re talking about, and he doesn’t just change overnight. It takes time and maybe it’ll never happen.

When he holds his son though, I see his resentment for me fading.

With some calming breaths, I make it back downstairs to see Rawley has Lyric outside on the porch and out of the rain waiting for me.

I hit the remote to my car. “I can put him in the car.”

Rawley doesn’t look at me as he swallows hard, handing Lyric over. Lyric holds onto Rawley’s hoodie with a tight grip and whines as I attempt to take him. I should have known he’d want Rawley. He’s like that with men. Red and Tyler are his favorite people.

Rawley chuckles. The low sound makes my heart flutter. “I can do it.”

I’m kinda feeling like I’ve been replaced already and frown at my baby boy and kiss his cheeks. “You better still like me, kid.”

Rushing around the side of the car, I open the door for him so he can put Lyric in his seat and then I run to the driver side to avoid the rain that’s coming down in sheets.

Rawley sets him in the seat but doesn’t buckle him and then gets in the passenger side and stares at me. “I don’t know how the buckles work,” he admits, running his hand over his drenched hair; water beads at the ends.

“I’ll do it.” Turning around in the seat, I have to lean over the center console to buckle him up, but it’s hard when his seat is turned around backwards.

I don’t think anything of it, but my ass is literally in Rawley’s face. Curiously I peek over my shoulder to see if he’s looking. I can’t tell. His head is down.

Jesus, why do you care?

“There you go, little man.”

Turning around, I right myself in the seat and start the engine. That’s when my next embarrassment hits me. Rawley’s CD’s in my player and it’s kinda loud.

He chuckles, his hand finding his hair again.

“Lyric likes your music.”

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