The Weight of Us

By

A.K. Hunter

Chapter Thirteen

"I must have called a thousand times." —Adele, "Hello"

Alexis woke to her daughter's screams.

"Ma!"

Groggy and panicked, she all but stumbled out of bed, hurrying to the bedroom door. It had been months since she'd been roused to that sound, and her memories paled in comparison to the terrified shrieks, like Rosie's soul was being torn from her body.

"Mama!"

Alexis hurried down the hallway, pushing the door open to Rosie's room. Footsteps thumped behind her, and she turned to see Kevin leaving his room, equally disheveled, wearing nothing but pajama pants. For a split-second, her attention was caught on the tattoo on his chest and the scar that had turned the careful black knot into a torn mess. Sloane's bullet had done that. Exhaustion painted his features, and he seemed to sharpen at seeing her.

"Hey," his voice was rough, "She—"

Rosie shrieked again, hiccuping miserably as she called for her mother. Alexis pushed the door open to find Rosie standing in her crib, her face was a violent shade of red, her tiny frame shook with the force of her sobs. Her hair was plastered to her cheeks with her tears. "Ma!" Rosie shrieked again, sobbing so hard she was almost gagging. "Mama…" she whined, hiccuping to catch her breath.

Alexis' heart snapped in two. She crossed the room in an instant, lifting Rosie out of her crib and into her arms. Alexis held her tight, rocking her and shushing her. What was wrong with her child? "I've got you, sweetheart. Mommy's here," Alexis' voice cracked.

She turned to the doorway, where Kevin watched them with a pained expression. He took a few steps closer, slowly narrowing the space between them.

Rosie's cries softened only a bit, and she buried her face in her mother's neck. Alexis could feel Rosie's tiny heart racing in her chest. Her face was burning hot. Alexis began a differential diagnosis in her head. "Is she sick? Maybe her stomach hurts?" Alexis tried to pass her over to Kevin, and she grabbed tightly onto her, wailing with renewed intensity.

"Nononono!" Rosie shrieked. "Mama! Ma."

He shook his head. "She's not sick. She's just gets this way sometimes. Anxiety, I think."

Realization hit Alexis in the gut. Rosie had glued herself to Alexis' front, holding her nightshirt in a tiny, white-knuckled grip. She looked like her world was being torn asunder. Alexis hugged her back, stroking her hair, and was temporarily lost. How did she fix something like this? And how could Kevin be so casual about it?

"Here," Kevin said, holding out a cool, wet washcloth. Alexis hadn't even noticed him leave the room. Awkwardly holding onto Rosie with one hand, she took the washcloth and began wiping tears and snot from Rosie's cheeks. "Just soothe her. It'll pass."

Again, Alexis was surprised at the evenness in his tone. He didn't seem to be half as panicked about Rosie's behavior. If anything, he just looked sad and very, very tired. "You should get some sleep, I have her," she said quietly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Go sleep. You look exhausted. I've got her." Self-loathing rose up again. Alexis hadn't slept in two days, but she was determined to see this through. "You've pulled double duty long enough."

With a little more prodding, Kevin left the bedroom, and Alexis spent the better part of the next hour rocking Rosie back to sleep. Kevin's words rang in her head, juxtaposed over the frightened way that Rosie clutched her so closely. Slowly, the little girl fell back to sleep, and Alexis just held for a long time after, inhaling her scent and savoring the weight of her body in her arms. This was what Alexis had been missing; this was what she'd given up. And though Rosie was the last person in the world Alexis had ever wanted to run from, the effect had been the same as if Alexis had willfully abandoned her.

Actions have consequences.

Alexis didn't even attempt to go back to sleep. Instead, she exchanged her pajamas for a pair of leggings and a long-sleeved shirt. A quick glance out her window revealed the pre-dawn light slipping over the horizon. She hurried down the stairs to the kitchen, her mind scrambling to deal with the events of the last few hours. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Kevin at the kitchen counter, his hands braced on the countertop, his head hanging down. Anger was all too instinctive around him these days, but there was also something like remorse there. She'd been terribly logical, totally divorced from her emotions when she'd established their boundaries: not lovers, not even friends. And much as she believed all of her rationale, it had felt just a little bit like a lie.

She heard Kevin exhale raggedly, as if he was struggling under a great weight that only he could feel. If things were better between them, she might have crossed the distance between them, wrapped her arms around him from behind, and rested her head in that perfect space between his shoulder blades. She'd done it enough times in the past to know how much comfort he gained from her touch, how much safety she gained from the warmth of his body against hers.

But they had boundaries. Boundaries that she'd carefully set, and non-friends didn't embrace like that.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" she asked quietly.

He started and turned around. She caught him wiping his face, his eyes bloodshot. "You scared me. I thought you'd gone back to sleep."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she repeated.

"What do you mean?"

Alexis stepped into the kitchen, leaning against the table they'd all sat around just a handful of hours earlier. "You don't think I deserved to know that my daughter has developed an anxiety disorder?"

"How was I supposed to tell you what was wrong with her? You were gone. I had no way of contacting you."

Alexis' anger dried up in a heartbeat. "You mean she's been like this…. Ever since I left?"

His sad expression told her everything she needed to know. For a moment, Alexis thought she would be sick. "I… I did this to her."

"I'm sorry I didn't mention it before," Kevin said. "She's been getting better lately, and I didn't see the point of upsetting you when you were trying to get better, too."

"And now I'm making it worse."

He moved from his place at the countertop, standing right in front of her. "Tonight had a lot of big changes, Alexis. It's okay. She'll adjust. You're doing the right thing by letting her be here. And you holding her through it helped a lot, I'm sure." He set a hand on her shoulder. "It's going to be okay."

Alexis didn't have the energy to argue. Exhaustion and self-loathing washed over her, almost knocking her to her knees, and she continued to the kitchen door, reaching for her running shoes.

"You're going out now?"

"I need to clear my head."

"It's barely five in the morning."

She laced her shoes, ignoring him.

"Alexis, wait—"

"I'm coming back, okay?" Alexis shrugged him off and reached for the door.

Kevin's fingers slipped around her wrist, holding her in place with a loose but unbreakable grip. "It's not your fault."

Alexis tried to yank her wrist back. "I didn't say you could touch me."

He didn't let go. "Tell me you understand that."

"Let go of me, Kevin."

"Nobody blames you."

"Stop—"

"You did what you had to do. It's not your fault."

"I said let go!" Panic and anger was spilling into her veins with each heartbeat. She raised her free hand to strike him, and he deftly caught it.

"It's not your fault. Nobody blames you," he repeated, his eyes boring into hers, his tone firm. "Say it."

"Kevin, stop."

"Tell me you know it's not your fault, and I'll let go."

"I…" she swallowed. The lie was far too big to force past her tongue. "Please just let go."

"Say it, Alexis."

"I can't!" She yanked her wrists hard, and he used the momentum to pull her against him. His arms wrapped tightly around her torso, pinning her arms against her sides—a forced embrace.

"It's not your fault," he whispered into her ear. "Nobody blames you." The mantra slipped through her defenses, the sentiment strengthening each time he said it. "It's not your fault," he repeated over and over again.

"O-of course it's my f-fault," she stammered, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I left her. I left everyone. I r-ruined everything."

Kevin pulled back, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. "How could you think that?"

A sob bubbled up from her chest. "God, Kevin. She was so afraid. I did that to her. And Dad w-won't talk to me." More tears spilled out of her eyes. Now that her confession had begun, continuing was like drawing poison from a wound. "I broke him, too. And now he's trying to take Rosie from you, and Kate's so angry at him. If he goes through with this, their family will be torn apart… I did all of this! If I had just stayed in New York, none of this would have happened."

Kevin pulled a chair from the kitchen table and guided her to sit down. She didn't fight him, and she didn't push him away when he took the seat next to hers and immediately laced his fingers through hers. "Do you remember what you said to me last night about guilt?"

"I…" she searched through her memory.

"You're carrying much more than your fair share."

"I disagree." She glanced down at their interlaced fingers. One tiny part of her recalled those careful boundaries. But mostly she wanted to hold on tight to that gentle touch, the one thing that seemed to be grounding her when all she wanted to do was run.

"If you hadn't left…" his voice trailed off, and she glanced up at his pained expression. "Kate told me what you said to your dad. How could any of us be better off in that scenario?"

"I should have just stuck it out." Alexis' voice was small. "I shouldn't have abandoned everyone."

"You were sick," he said quietly. "And maybe there could have been different ways to deal with your struggles, but nobody blames you for prioritizing your need to get better." His fingers tightened. "It scares me to death to think of you sticking it out in New York for even a day longer. I…. if anything happened to you…" He drew in a shuddering breath, his eyes shining.

He looked so bereft, so lost and heartbroken that Alexis found herself wanting to reach out to him. Wanting to touch his cheek and let him sink into the comforting gesture the way he had thousands of times before. But some logical side reminded her that she was already breaking those boundaries by allowing him to hold her hand. Did coparents hold hands like this? It had only been a handful of hours since Alexis had laid down those carefully planned guidelines, but already everything was becoming fuzzy.

She didn't know how to offer him the comfort he needed, not when his fear was of losing her to grief, while she'd been living the grief so long she didn't see a way out. And as much as he assured her that their current situation was not her fault, Alexis couldn't bring herself to believe him. Everywhere she looked, she saw the wounds left behind by her absence, still fresh. Looking into Kevin's tear-filled eyes, knowing that he'd had a glimpse into her broken depths, she hated herself all the more.

"Tell me what to do," he whispered. "Tell me how to help you."

She swallowed with some difficulty. "You're already taking care of Rosie. That's the most important part."

He shook his head. "That's not what I'm asking."

"Then I don't know what to tell you," she said. She pulled her hand from his and pulled her knees up against her chest. "What if this wasn't a good idea? What if this is just going to break her heart all over again? I," she paused, "What's the endgame here, Kevin?"

He rubbed at his face. "Ideally, we find a way to be a family again," he caught her expression and his speech sped up, "you know, going back to sharing custody like we did before. And maybe your dad will decide to cancel the suit."

It wasn't much, his expectations. He'd clearly learned a thing or two, or if he hoped for more he wasn't going to confess it to her. Still, those simple ideals held a slew of logistics that Alexis didn't know how to wrap her head around.

"You can't stay here forever," she began. "Do you expect me to come back to New York?"

"When and if you're ready." That answer must not have satisfied him, because he sighed. "I'm trying really hard to not pressure you, Alexis, but I think I am anyway. I should have asked if you were ready to be her mom again, in any capacity, before bombarding you with this whole thing. I'm sorry."

"I love her so much, and this—this is fine, I think." She checked her heart for confirmation. "But it can't last. And… Kevin, I don't want to go back to the life I had before. Truly. Just thinking of going back to my old apartment makes my stomach turn."

"There's no good memories there at all?" he asked.

Alexis frowned. "It was where I stayed during the darkest time in my life. I don't want to go back there. But to afford a new one, I'd have to get a job, and I don't know that I want to go back to the coroner's office either. Plus, if Dad is really cutting me out, then there goes a huge support system. I just… I don't want to go back to what I had before, but I don't even know how to begin to start new. I look in the mirror and I don't recognize myself. I have no roadmap, Kevin. All the things that made me me don't exist anymore…"

A crease appeared between his eyebrows. "What are you afraid of, Alexis?"

She closed her eyes, hating how vulnerable she felt, how much she was opening up still-fresh wounds, and grateful that there was at least one person in the world she could talk to without judgment. Her father wouldn't return her calls, she'd only recently begun to repair her relationship with her grandmother, and Kate was bearing the burden of gluing the broken pieces of their family together. "I don't want to fail," she whispered. "Not again."

Kevin was quiet for a long time, long enough that Alexis felt compelled to open her eyes to assure herself that he was, in fact, still there. He watched her with enough affection to make her panic cease for one blissful moment.

Finally, his tone firm in a way she hadn't heard since the day she'd invited him to Rosie's first birthday, he said, "I want to amend my statement earlier tonight."

"Which one?"

"When I asked you to try and to be patient with me. I have some changes to that."

Her heart began its panicked pitter patter once more. "Okay."

"The first change is that as long as I'm here, as long as we're trying this out, whenever you think of the past and feel sad or anxious or guilty, I want you to tell yourself that it's not your fault. As many times as it takes for those feelings to go away."

Fresh tears burned at the back of her eyes. "And if they don't go away?"

"That's where the second part comes in." He took a breath. "I think it'd help to focus on the present as much as you can. You can't change the past, and worrying about the future is only going to rob you of happiness right now. Honestly, I don't know what's going to happen with your dad, or whether or not you'll be able to come back to New York, or if you even should. I have hopes," he gave her a pained smile, "but I know that nothing is set in stone. Nothing is guaranteed. All you have is right now. You're safe, you're getting better, and Rosie's here. There are good things in this moment, Alexis. Please don't waste them on self loathing."

She nodded, even as a few tears escaped the corners of her eyes. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize." He gave her a gentle smile, reaching out to wipe some stray tears away with his fingertips. Alexis found herself closing her eyes and leaning into the touch, leaning into him, and then—just as quickly as he'd reached out—Kevin stood up, breaking their connection. Alexis' eyes shot open to find him back by the counter, looking out the window. Rain was pitter-pattering on the windowpane, the storm clouds drowning out the early morning light. "You sure you want to run in this?" he asked.

Alexis was taken aback by his sudden change of topic, and for a brief moment she wished he'd come back to that space right across from hers. She looked at his empty seat, then at the rain outside the back door. "I've ran in worse."

"Why don't you go get some sleep?"

"I was going to suggest the same to you."

He shrugged. "Not tired."

That couldn't be true. Long term exhaustion was etched into his face, into the slump of his shoulders. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he nodded. "Go get some rest. I'll wake you up in time to have breakfast with Rosie."

Alexis hesitated again, but Kevin had already turned away from her and was fiddling with the coffee machine. Exhaustion pressed in on her shoulders in the absence of panic. "Okay," she said softly. Then, an impulse occurred to her, and she didn't try to stop herself. Three strides later, her arms were wrapped around Kevin's waist, and her head rested in that coveted place between his shoulder blades. "Thanks, Kevin," she said softly, holding the embrace for perhaps a moment too long. Then she pulled away and a murmured, "you're welcome," fell on her ears as she climbed up the stairs.

The next time Alexis woke, late morning light was filtering in through her bedroom window, and every so often a squealing noise echoed from outside. She rolled out of bed with a stretch, rubbing her eyes, and walked toward the window.

Rosie and Kevin were out on the beach, the little girl all dressed up in swimwear, her ensemble topped off with a wide-brimmed pink hat. They were building sandcastles, and Rosie seemed to have discovered a fun game of tossing sand at her father. Alexis' heart ached as she watched the two of them play on the beach, and she reached for her cell phone on her bedside table. How many times had she and her own father played on that beach? How many family memories had been etched into the sand?

There was a missed call from Kate, but no response from her dad. She dialed that familiar number again, and once again her heart slumped when she received no answer. "Dad," she said softly into the receiver. She didn't know what to say. She'd already said it all, she thought. She'd made her apologies, her requests. Over and over again, she'd put herself out there, trying to reach him in some way, and over and over he'd ignored it. What was left to say? She hung up the phone.

Self-loathing began to creep in, egged on by her father's rejection. Her memories from that handful of hours earlier offer some measure of comfort. She'd opened up, showed him how weak she truly was, and he didn't hate her. Kevin deserved more credit than she'd given him. His advice rose to the forefront of her mind, but telling herself that it wasn't her fault that her dad wouldn't talk to her felt more than a little false. Alexis was the one who had broken him in the first place.

But her trespasses weren't Kevin's fault, and he and Rosie didn't deserve to pay the price for her mistakes. Again, Alexis asked herself what her dad could possibly be thinking, how he could dare to tear Kevin and Rosie away from each other. She watched the father and daughter on the beach for a little longer, desperation stringing together an idea in her mind. She picked her phone up again, this time dialing Kate's number.

"Is Dad home today?" Alexis asked Kate without preamble.

"He's at his P.I. office."

"For how long?"

"All day, I think. He's pretty much been living there lately," Kate said, a tiny dose of emotion slipping into her voice. "Why do you ask?"

"Because it'll be a lot easier to corner him if I know where he is," Alexis said succinctly.

"Alexis, that might not be a good idea. I want nothing more than for you two to talk, but—"

"I don't care. He has to talk to me, Kate. Enough is enough."

"Good luck getting through to him." Kate sighed. "And don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

Alexis hung up the phone with dread and resolution swirling in her stomach.

It was time to confront her father.

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay! I hope it was worth the wait. :) Please review!