Page 21 of Sacrifice
I exhale an exasperated sigh. I can’t even wrap my head around the mindfuck that is Atlas and everything he’s trying to say right now. The constant change, never knowing what to expect, always sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for the moment when he inevitably bursts.
“Yes, Atlas.” I pause, folding my arms in front of my chest before dropping them to my side. I’m not going to cower away from him anymore, not when I felt like it was finally my time to stand up and show him I’m serious. “Yes, this is what I want.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. Whatever nice guy act he was trying but failing at putting on was gone.
He stares past me into the living area. His eyes eat up the old and worn couch my mom passed down to me with the loveseat on the opposite side. The wood floors are scratched and beat up. I’ve told myself once things settle down and I find time, I’m going to polish them up and they’ll look good as new again. The walls remain bare. No pictures or décor, leaving them a stark white against the dark brown sofa.
It may not look like much to him, but it is ours and what’s important is we feel safe here. It’s our home, and even if he wants to look down his nose at me, he can’t take it away from us.
“What, you think you can leave, take my son and move into this hole in the wall? Do you honestly think you’ll be able to keep this up with all the legal fees coming your way?”
A knot in my stomach twists, the taste of bile rising in my throat.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play games with me, Haelynn. C’mon. Do you really think you can run away and think I’m going to do, what? Nothing? Sit here and watch you play house while you’re secretly trying to convince a judge to give you sole custody?”
“I’m not doing this with you right now. You’re here to take your son for the night.” I look down the hall at Huxton. “He’s ready to go. Go enjoy your time with him.”
I move to walk past him when Atlas reaches out, grabbing my arm to stop me. I grit my teeth, wincing in pain from where he left a bruise the week before. I yank my arm away from him, clutching it to my chest.His eyes widen, darting up to meet mine.
“Shit, Haelynn, I’m sorry.”
There’s a lost look on his face, mixed with sadness and despair. He wants me to forgive him, but I don’t think I can. He’s put me through so much pain and heartache leading up to now, I don’t have anything left to give him anymore.
My fingers hold my arm, massaging it, trying to ease the pain.
“Atlas, I don’t know why you keep saying you’re sorry, when I don’t think you truly know what you’re even sorry for.”
I close my eyes, shaking my head, not wanting to even get into this with him again.
I know he loves Huxton, and I believe there’s a part of him that loved me, too. While I expected him to grovel when he realized what he lost, I didn’t expect it to last for long.
Atlas isn’t the type of person to put himself into a position to make him look weak. Although I would argue there’s nothing weak about a man who can own up and admit when they’re wrong, he doesn’t see it that way.
He’d hide behind whatever lie he was using this time, convinced he had nothing to be sorry for before he’d ever apologize with genuine emotion behind it.
“The best thing you can do now, for you, for Huxton, and for me, is to focus on being a father. Okay?”
I’m waiting for the moment when he goes back to being Jeckyl and Hyde, throwing me through a loop on which side he is now. When he looks past me, down the hallway, toward Huxton, I’m surprised when it doesn’t come.
“Yeah…” he trails off. His eyes grow distant before he turns back to me. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”
I nod, forcing my mouth into a thin line. I drop my arm, not wanting to give Huxton any cause for worry.
Atlas doesn’t say anything more as he watches Huxton grab his backpack, shoving his books in it, before joining Atlas at the door. Huxton turns back to me, lifting his hand up in a small wave. Atlas follows suit with a nod, holding the door open as they both duck outside.
It’s not until the door shuts behind him that I’m able to release a heavy sigh and the tension of facing him again lifts off my chest. In the back of my mind, I know it’s still only a matter of time before things shift again and Atlas is back to being the man I’ve always known him to be.
Sooner or later, we’ll break free.
Chapter Eight
Corbin
"There he is," Layla sighs, throwing her hands up dramatically when I open the door to Oh My Goodies.
My cousin, Brit, owns the small-town bakery. Between this and the gas station at the end of the road, it's about the only place you could go nearby to get a fresh cup of coffee. I'm certain Layla and I are single-handedly keeping her in business. I rarely miss a day of stopping in before my shift, not to mention I am addicted to her apple cinnamon muffins.
