Page 12 of Make Me Whole

I was never a violent guy. Having practiced martial arts most of my life, I knew my power against an enemy and never used it unless for sport or protection.

Eli, however, was the kind of idiot who could easily lead me down that path. Even now, I craved the feeling of his bones breaking under my fists and the sight of that little prick bleeding and begging for mercy. He deserved to be as afraid as Skylar had been and as bruised as her arm would become.

But she had asked me not to kick his ass, and I couldn’t deny her request. God only knew why she wanted to spare him, but I knew that whatever she asked me with those golden eyes focused on mine, I wouldn’t be able to deny. I’d give her my life if she asked for it.

It was a troubling thought. I hadn’t felt that way about anyone other than Aiden since Margery died. To make matters worse, I knew this gorgeous, strong, heartbroken adult version of Skylar for two seconds, which wasn’t nearly long enough to deserve those kinds of feelings. It also wasn’t long enough to justify possibly losing my best friend and betraying the vows I had made to my beloved wife. It was irrational, and that was something I never was.

Control was my middle name. It was where I thrived and what I craved most. But ever since I entered that kitchen and saw Skylar in that yellow dress, I had no control over my thoughts and feelings. She was consuming everything, every sane part of me, turning me into a crazed man who desired a woman who would never—could never—be mine.

I ran a hand through my hair in frustration, but the angry chills down my arms refused to subside.

“Are you okay, Dad?” Aiden asked, breaking me away from my thoughts.

I blinked a few times, my eyes unfocused as I searched for the face of my boy. Anger and lust had taken over my mind to such a degree that I all but forgot that I was sitting at the dinner table with my son. Guilt resonated through me, adding an extra layer of unpleasantness to my insides.

Doing my best to lighten my features, I smiled at Aiden and gathered some peas onto my fork. “Of course, I am, Son. Why?”

He shrugged as I shoved the peas into my mouth. “Dunno. You just looked weird.”

“Weird how?” The words sounded funny coming from my stuffed mouth. Aiden laughed.

“Like Mel Gibson.”

My brows shot up for two reasons. Number one, I didn’t even know that Aiden, who was ten, was aware of Mel Gibson’s existence and career. Number two, I was sure I couldn’t look anywhere near as crazy as Mel did despite my anger level.

Tilting my head just slightly, I pressed, “What do you know about Mel Gibson? And in what way do I look as weird as he does?”

Eyes on his plate, Aiden forked a chunk of meat, coated it with mashed potatoes, and then rolled it in the peas like they were sprinkles as he explained, “I know a little.”

He shoved the food into his mouth and continued to speak while chewing—a horrible habit I hadn’t been able to break since I did the same thing. “He’s Ms. Hill’s favorite actor because of the movieWhat Women Want. She says that relationships would be a lot happier if all men could hear their women’s thoughts because males are insensitive and inattentive to a woman’s needs.” He looked at me with his smarty pants looks and smirked. “That means someone who doesn’t care about other people’s feelings and doesn’t pay attention, by the way. It was the one thing I learned from Ms. Hill’s speech.”

He shrugged and continued to chew as if the whole thing made no sense to him. But I was officially worried. I had seen that movie with Margery when it came out, and though it was funny and had some truth about male and female relationships, it wasn’t something I wanted my kid to watch at his age. Also, what the hell kind of comment was that? And what exactly was that speech trying to teach to a bunch of fifth graders?

“Did she play the movie for the class?”

Aiden shook his head. “Nope, just discussed it. For like half a period.” He widened his eyes as if the whole thing had been crazy, which it was. I was glad he seemed unfazed by the inappropriate teacher.

“I didn’t mind it much because I got to finish aCapitan Americadrawing I was making for Jonah, but I don’t get it. I was very happy playing with Ella today without listening to her thoughts, and I wasn’t insensitive to her wants or inattentive to her needs. I let her go on the swing first and climbed down the tree house to get her some soda when she was thirsty so she wouldn’t have to.”

“Way to go, being a gentleman.” I offered him my fist, and he bumped it.

With my mind made up about stopping by his principal’s office on Monday and my mood much lighter after his spiel, I returned the subject to where the conversation had started. “But you never replied to my question. What made me look as weird as Mel Gibson?”

“Your face. It was like this.” He widened his eyes and traced a few lines across his forehead with his index finger.

I couldn’t help but laugh. He did, too, and imitated the actor a bit longer, physically scrunching his forehead until deep wrinkles appeared and looking more and more deranged.

“A gentleman and a comedian.”

He bowed and giggled as we finished our food. I got up, carried the dirty plates to the sink, then walked to the fridge to get one of the ridiculously sized ice cream sandwiches Skylar had sent home with us. I knew Aiden would protest not eating the whole thing, but I wouldn’t risk that much sugar just before bedtime.

The dessert brought Skylar back to my mind, but I pushed her away before I resembled Mel Gibson again.

I was at the cupboard collecting a couple of dessert plates and a knife when Aiden asked, “Can I ask you a question, Dad?”

With two dessert plates and a knife in my hand, I walked back toward him. “Always, kid.”

He took a deep breath, then looked at the tablecloth. His index finger traced the lines of the pattern, something he only did when he was uncomfortable. I was almost at the table when he finally asked, “Do you think you’ll ever have a wife again?”

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