23
The season shifted and I saw the world for the first time—vivid, crisp, and mine. Had fall always felt like this? Every season had felt bitter; every day had felt so cold. I rested my head against the wall behind me and closed my eyes, smiling slightly as the cool air whisked into my room, dancing across my cheeks and tickling my dry lips. Despite the chill, I felt warm. I always did now. Every day with him, I felt closer to being myself. Every second was a chance to start over.
A tiny giggle pulled me from my musings, and I peered down at the blissful baby in my lap. Today, he seemed slightly bigger than the day before. He always felt a bit larger than life, consuming everything around him—sucking it in until he was the only person anyone noticed.
I found myself counting his fingers and toes again, attempting to spot a difference. I gazed at his face, wondering if I would find a freckle I had yet to discover or a new strand of hair on his head. He smiled, cheeks flushing as he gazed at me. His eyes danced across my face and I wondered if he were trying to spot a difference, too.
"You look the same as yesterday," I said, sighing as I leaned forward, tickling his face with the ends of my hair.
Brunette locks moved over his cheeks, causing his skin to look more porcelain. His head cocked to the side, trying to understand my words as his brows drew together.
"You're an easy subject to draw," I continued, picking up my graphite pencil from the bedside table and placing its tip against a fresh sheet of paper. "You haven't changed much since we started." I paused, removing my pencil and flipping back through my sketchbook, analyzing my older drawings. "Well, I suppose you've changed a little."
Charlie giggled, pleased with my short assessment.
"Soon, you'll be so big I'll barely recognize you," I teased, reaching down to capture his foot in my hand. "I'm joking, buddy. I'd always be able to recognize you. No matter what."
He giggled again.
A heartbeat passed and I began to draw. Slowly at first, and then picking up my pace as my pencil lines became more and more sloppy. It was perfect for a rough sketch but not what I wanted for a finished product. Would these sketches and ideas ever turn into something more? My head was filled with dreams, and finally, I felt like I could develop them into something. Through Edward, I had rediscovered myself, feeling reborn and finally capable of chasing after what I wanted.
Thank you, Edward …
"And thank you, too, little guy," I said to myself, watching his eyelids flutter as he laid comfortably in my lap.
The sunlight flittered in through the window, moving across the curves of his face, creating shadows and a small highlight on the tip of his nose. My hand moved quicker as I drew, wanting to capture the sight before the light moved and the contouring changed. My shoulders sagged forward as I leaned over the pad, sighing as the tension began to seep from my pores. As my body became lost in lines and shading, my mind wandered to the world outside this room. Tonight, Edward would push himself one step further, and despite my words of encouragement earlier, I felt useless. Like many things in life, he would face this alone. Despite the support we garnished from others, we were still alone with ourselves when push came to shove. I wish I could be with you.
As if on cue, my cell began to ring, vibrating on the bed next to where Charlie was spread out. The muscles along my jawline tensed up as I read Edward's name on the illuminated screen. Had things gone wrong so quickly? I had been busying myself while he had been suffering. He hid his emotions well. Sometimes, I wished he could just break down all of his walls and let me in. I'm one to talk …
"Edward." I breathed in, trying to control my fluttering heart as I waited for his voice.
Cars could be heard over the line, buzzing past him as he must have stood on a sidewalk somewhere. Traffic, voices, laughter—the world encompassed him as he tried to tempt time to slow down long enough for him to breathe. I heard his breathing—ragged and strong.
"Edward?"
Another few breathes passed between us. Each of us waited for something. Time stretched forward, growing uncomfortable until he spoke.
"Hey, baby." Despite his simple response—one I had heard many times before—his words were heavy, conveying more than he realized. "I just … needed to hear your voice, I guess."
A soft smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Tonight, he hadn't run from his problems, facing the truth head on. Seeking help was horrifying. Vividly, I remembered the bleak waiting room and the dull ache in my chest as I had jittered back and forth in my seat. I bit down on my lip until I tasted iron as I swallowed the thought of speaking out. My flushed, irritated skin and distant eyes must have garnered the attention of everyone in that waiting room. I hadn't been able to stop rocking—mashing my thighs together as nerves filled me up and made me want to piss. Young, wide-eyed, and helpless—I pitied who I was.
Age didn't matter when it came to pain. Pain was universal—as unescapable as death. Suffering had been as common as air. After a while, it blended in with everything else. Darkness had surrounded my thoughts for so long that my eyes were beginning to adjust. Now, Edward was growing, spreading himself out as he searched for some sort of illumination in his mind.
"How are things going there?"
I imagined him shrugging as his cheeks reddened. He had the tendency of growing quiet whenever he became nervous, sinking into his own mind and disappearing. It always made me want to wrap my arms around him, protecting him with everything I had.
"I haven't gone inside yet. I've been watching people filter in, but I'm stuck outside the door, unable to make my feet move"—he choked out a laugh—"an inch. I don't know … I don't know if I'm ready for this sort of thing."
"Edward." My voice was stern despite my insides being soft. "I'm sure your fears are unfounded. Everyone's nervous their first time doing anything." I paused, running my tongue along the curve on my bottom lip as my mind searched for the right words. Words can't match experience. "I can get Eden to watch Charlie if you want me to meet you there?"
"No, no. That's fine, babe," Edward responded, seemingly gaining his strength. "I appreciate the offer, but I know I've got to do this on my own. I'm just … chickenshit. It's just so weird being here—like a dream. I never really thought I had a problem …"
Who ever thought they had a problem? Who would ever want to admit that?
"I know, but it might be nice to talk about things," I replied, sounding hopeful. "You know, get somethings off your chest."
A memory twitched in my brain, robbing my focus. Images filled my mind and painted a picture of a time when Edward had been completely vulnerable. A time when I had felt like I really saw him. The desire to tear each other apart had become overwhelming. I wanted to see his insides. We could tear each other down and rebuild ourselves together.
"I don't know if I can anymore—I feel like I'm falling apart. I'm afraid … I'm afraid I'm going to lose myself again. I can't do that. Not anymore. Fuck, Charlie relies on me. I can't throw every-fucking-thing away. If I let him down, I'm not going to be able to forgive myself."
Hair fell forward, covering his pitch-black eyes. I reached out for him, and he tensed for a moment before allowing his head to fall into his hands. He melted against me. Moments passed and he sat there gloomy, appearing like a broken, abandoned marionette—limbs splayed, head down, and back bent. Despite his posture, I felt the strain in his muscles.
"You won't fail, Edward. I won't let you fail."
"How can you be sure of that?" he questioned as a sardonic laugh escaped his lips.
"Because I'm sure of you."
Slowly, his head rose, and his eyes moved to capture my gaze.
"Bella … I know I'll fuck up. It's just a matter of time. I always fuck up … Sometimes, I think Seth must have been ashamed of me. He was so different. God, I'm nothing like him. Less than nothing. I can't believe we're brothers actually. He could do anything. Anything. Anything. Anything. And me … what the fuck am I good for?"
"You're good, too. Are you kidding? If he saw you, I'm sure he'd be—"
His cries stopped me. They were so quiet—so timid—just like him. His exterior may be rough and intimidating but inside, he was still a child in many ways. He was searching for something—every day, his eyes scanned the world, searching for the one thing he was missing—and lately, it seemed like he would never find it. I wondered if he was searching for Seth in the world. Or, I wondered if Seth was searching for him out there somewhere. While my thoughts became a messy haze, images of my mother coloring my mind, I wrapped my arms tightly around him and held on like I was grasping the string of a kite being threatened by the wind.
"He'd be what? He can't see me anymore. There's nothing else. I want to do right by him, but I'm not going to fucking delude myself."
"You don't feel him here at all?"
"No … I'm not sure that I want to feel him. I don't want to imagine him watching me. I would just feel worse. I would just feel guilty."
"What do you have to feel guilty about?"
"It should have been me," he muttered, no longer wiping the tears from his face as he leaned against me, defeated. "I just should have been—"
"Stop it."
He turned to me then, eyes cast down as he became fixated on his sunburned forearms. With his arms splayed out in front of him, crossing over his lap, and his shoulders hunched over, he looked like he was about to curl into a ball, wanting to be smaller—wanting to disappear entirely.
"Saying those things won't bring anyone back. You can't trade places with anyone. Instead of wishing you could die for them, hope you can live for them. That's harder anyway." I paused, feeling my chest grow heavy. "My mom used to say that she felt 'lucky' for going first. She said she couldn't imagine if the roles were reversed and she had to go on living without one of us. I never understood that. I used to wonder how she could ever wish for something so morbid … something so horrible. But, after she passed, I understood completely. Living without her tore into me every day. Something would always remind me of her. I would see a woman with similar hair color or smell her perfume … or eat one of her favorite foods … and suddenly, I would be transported back into a moment we had spent together. It was a blessing and a curse.
"A blessing because I always felt like she was there, and a curse because, sometimes, I didn't want to feel her at all. Feel anything really. Sometimes, I just wanted to be alone—sink into a void. I didn't want to imagine her peering over my shoulder, judging the woman I had become. It took me a long time, but one day, I found the feel of her to be a blessing. Make the feeling of Seth a blessing, too."
Edward smiled at this but remained silent at my side. His fingers twitched against his thighs. With stiff shoulders and a flushed chest, he felt like a caged bird beside me, fluttering to break free.
"Even if I don't feel him around, I still have a daily reminder of him. Charlie looks more and more like him every day. When I look into his eyes, I see my brother. Some days, I don't even want to look at him because he reminds me so fucking much of Seth. I wonder if that makes me a fucked person. Not wanting to look at my own nephew."
"You're doing the best you can."
"Am I really? I feel like I'm just cruising through. I'm known for being a disappointment. What's going to make this time any different?"
"You have Charlie and you have me. Isn't that different enough?"
Finally, he met my gaze again. "That's more than enough. But sometimes … sometimes, I just want to fucking scream. I just want to scream until someone out there fucking hears me and understands everything."
That's all we wanted: to be understood. All anyone wanted. I knew who the "someone" was—Seth heard him. Even if he only whispered into the void, Seth would be there, mouth opened, ready to answer.
"Then scream, Edward. Scream until someone hears you."
"Fuck it." I listened to Edward murmur, pulling my thoughts back to the present. "I've got to go, babe. The meeting is about to start."
The corners of my lips tugged upward as pride swelled in my chest. "Charlie and I will be there with you in spirit. You'll be fine … I'll be waiting for you to get home."
"Tell Charlie I say hi," he replied, allowing me to hear the smile in his voice.
"I will," I promised as I peered down at Charlie's wild head of hair that was tickling my chest. "Good luck."
"I'll see you soon."
He lingered on the line for a moment, and I knew there were so many words in his mouth that wanted to escape. He said nothing. I listened to his heavy breathes, reeling in the comfort the familiar sound provided. Truly, I knew being near him would be nothing more than a personal comfort. He wouldn't benefit. He needed to step forward on his own two feet. He was stronger than he believed and more capable than he could imagine.
"What are you talking about. You're strong, too, Bella. So, come on. Be strong for me. Be strong when I need you most. Not just me … Put on a brave face when they need you, too."
I heard my mother's voice—strong—as if she were seated right next to me. A chill trickled down my spine while the richness of the memory filled my ears and calmed my mind.
"No more tears for me, okay? I'm not crying for myself. So, I don't want you to cry for me. You don't need to hold my hand anymore. You can walk all on your own."
Walk all on my own … Could I, really?
I grew because I had to. Every minute, I was different. I became stronger by the second. If I hadn't, I would have crumbled. I had crumbled. Time and time again. If it weren't for her spirit, I knew I would be fractured beyond repair—broken beyond recognition.
Edward ended the call, leaving me to listen to the buzz coming from the empty line. I paused for a moment and allowed the phone to rest between my ear and shoulder, imagining him as he walked into the building and searched for his very first meeting. Charlie began to babble, causing me to forget about my contemplations and focus on him, instead.
With wide, guileless eyes, Charlie moved his mouth, trying to form words. His expression was friendly despite his brows pulling together as he concentrated. He wanted to speak to me so badly. He seemed so serious as he tried to force his body to do what his mind so desperately wanted to. It was almost comical, seeing someone so young so earnest. I wished his mumbles could morph into something phonetic.
"You getting bored, buddy?"
He mumbled something again, and then grinned up at me, revealing the hint of whiteness coming from a few different spots on his gums. Soon, he would have teeth.
"Okay, let's find something to do while we wait for your daddy." His grin widened at my suggestion. "You're excited to see him, aren't you? I bet he'll want to cuddle with you all night as soon as he gets back."
His eyes brightened at the word daddy. They always did. His entire demeanor would change, and he would bring his hands together, clapping at his favorite word.
"Give him lots of love tonight, buddy. God knows he's going to need it."
The lock of my front door clicked before the door swung opened, revealing a pale, baffled Edward. As soon as Charlie sensed his father's presence, he began to giggle, eyes wandering and hands clapping together as his dad crossed the barrier and ventured into the living room. Charlie abandoned his enthusiastic clap, instead focusing all of his energy on trying to stand up, obviously wanting to run toward his father.
Charlie had managed to get his bottom off the floor on many occasions but had only stood up a handful of times. Usually, he accomplished it when he wanted to walk toward his daddy, and typically, his excitement for the beautifully inked man was the one thing that would send him right back down on his bottom. Today, however, I wouldn't let him fall.
As he stood, I did, too, and walked to stand behind him. He attempted to move before falling straight down on his butt. His laughter filled the room, causing me to smile. Edward lit up as he absorbed the little boy's lighthearted energy. I took his little hands in mine and helped him to stand again. His little legs trembled as they grew used to the weight of his body. His concentration caused him to struggle for a moment before his muscles relaxed just enough for me to help him toward the one person he wanted to see more than anything.
Edward's demeanor continued to brighten. His slumped shoulders gently perked up and his facial features relaxed, the stubborn wrinkle between his brows disappearing. While his eyes seemed to be looking toward something invisible, his lips quirked into a smile—bright but hollow. He looked at his son without seeing him—looking straight through—and searched for answers in the air in front of him.
Despite his mind being in a different world, Edward dropped to his knees in front of his son and reached out to him. I felt Charlie's palms tingle before I let go of them, allowing him to grasp his father. Charlie squealed, practically falling forward before he jumped ungracefully into his daddy's embrace. Charlie gripped onto his father's shirt to avoid falling right back down onto his bottom as his legs began to shake. Edward noticed this and scooped him up. He sat back on his heels and began to tickle the baby's stomach. Charlie's eyes widened before he threw his head back and laughed.
What are you thinking, Edward? Where is your mind right now?
"He's been super eager for you to get home," I stated, breaking the silence. Edward gazed up at me, rewarding me with a slight, tired smile. "How was the meeting? You look worn out."
He shrugged, suddenly tight-lipped. Charlie's mumbles quickly became the only noise filling the small room. The air grew thick as I watched him, thoughtful and cross-legged before me. With a pensive expression, he watched his son smile, looking significantly older than he had a few hours before. While his coiled body expressed some emotion, his face was much more difficult to decipher. He bottled everything up behind a blank expression, never wanting to show me the ugly.
He peered up at the air in front of him and seemed to be debating something as he avoided my gaze and internalized. He stood up with Charlie tight in his arms and moved to sit on the nearby couch. As if tethered by a string, I moved with him, joining him on the couch and becoming sluggish.
"So—"
"I saw a friend there today." He had cut me off before I could get out a sentence. Who needed ice-breakers? "An old friend, I guess … I haven't seen him in forever. When I left Colorado, I cut ties with basically everyone here. Even my own family." His words were slow, dazed. "I never meant to. It just was what it was. I wanted to find myself. All my life, I tried to be the guy my parents wanted—someone who made them proud—so I never just went out and tried to be my fucking self. Paul was my brother's best friend. Today, he was there, too."
He paused, shaking his head as he leaned forward in his seat, hunching his shoulders as he practically eclipsed Charlie with his body.
"I just can't believe it, you know. He looked so different. It took me a moment to recognize him. Growing up, he was like the model fucking kid. A poster boy or some shit like that—him and my brother both. They were everything any parent would want: athletic, popular, and good in school. Even at my absolute-fucking-best, I was none of those things. I was barely making it by. My mom was so obsessed with both of them. So much so it used to really fucking bother me. Why would her world revolve around Paul when she had me? I used to ask myself that all the fucking time. I was an extra in their movie—always the odd fucking man out. Paul had fit right in with my family while I just … didn't."
He laughed, bitter and short.
"They would party together and shit like that, but they never had a problem with alcohol or anything," he went on, straightening up before slouching back against the couch. "That's what made today such a shock to my system, I guess. Paul was never a drunk or any shit like that. He drank, but he wasn't a drunk. And he had nothing on me. Even when he was out there hitting it hard. Of course, I don't know the sort of dude he was after I left—but, seeing him today was like a mind-fuck or something. I just felt like I was in an entirely different reality."
"Did you guys—" He cut me off as I leaned back next to him. What? Do you want to carry his weight, too, Edward? How much do you think you can even handle? We're both barely hanging on as it is.
"He sat a few rows ahead of me," he responded with a tight smirk and a shake of his head. "We didn't speak."
"Did you not want to?"
"No, it wasn't that." A humorless laugh escaped him. "He didn't want to reach out to me. He was fucking spooked or something. Left as soon as we made eye-contact."
"Do you have his number? Maybe you could shoot him a text and ask him about it?"
"He gave it to me a while ago. I don't know what I did with it. I think I crumbled it up and threw it out because I had zero intention of calling him back. I still felt shitty about him not coming to Seth's funeral. Just seeing him that day brought up so much shit I wanted to forget." He paused for a moment, thoughtful. "I'm sure he'll be back. I couldn't have scared him away."
"I'm sure you didn't—"
"I hope not."
"—but maybe he needs his space right now. Once you know something, it can change the way you look at the person. That's probably what's going on in his head. I'm sure he's just upset you saw him like that."
"Like what?" he spat out as I realized my poor choice of words. "He's worried that now I know his shit, I'll think he's like me?"
His venom chilled me, causing my mind to reel—chaotic as I searched for the words that could possibly correct my mistake. A few heartbeats passed as a heavy silence filled the room. Charlie reached out for his father, sensing the tension as he grew uneasy. Edward sighed, shoulders slumping as his body became even more sluggish.
Slowly, I met his gaze, eyes wavering as I formed an apology with my expression. He watched me, eyes trailing over the lines of my face before he relaxed a bit and leaned forward. His breath tickled the tip of my nose and the skin above my lip. My tongue darted out, wetting my lips before Edward closed the distance between us, pressing his mouth gently against mine.
They were teasing and salty, causing me to wonder if the taste was from his tears. That thought alone caused me to press further, wanting to pour every ounce of me into him. He responded, no longer treating me as if I were some fragile thing. I wanted him to wreck me. Tear me apart and piece me back together. If physical pleasure could wash the darkness away, I would give him everything I had. I slipped my tongue inside his mouth, flirting with his as he moaned gently, panting against me before breaking the kiss. His breath was ragged as he smiled, causing me to be satisfied with the little that I was able to give him.
"Sorry." He pressed his forehead against mine. "Just seeing him messed with my head."
My brows drew together. Do you think I'm upset with you?
"You're going through so much right now. Everything's changing. You're handling it well, Edward. You've got to have more faith in yourself. More confidence."
He pulled away, blanching slightly as his cheeks began to flush. I smirked, wondering if he would ever be able to properly take a compliment.
"You should be proud of yourself because I'm proud of you." I peered down at the baby in his lap and smiled. "I know one more person who's proud of you, too."