"How much stuff could one child possibly own?" You ask as you find yourself going through another box labeled with Lex's name, the small child had fallen asleep hours ago on the couch as you and Luke tackled the never-ending pile of boxes in his living room.
"You have no idea," he says, chuckling from the inside of her closet, "we donated a lot of it back in Arizona." When he emerges from the closet that you're sure is bigger than your bathroom he's smiling as you continue folding the small shirts and placing them in her drawers. "You didn't have to stay to help, I would've gotten around to it eventually." Closing the drawer you turn to him, looking up into his face from your position on the floor, and smile. You shrug, running your fingers through the hair at the front of your head, patting down the flyaways.
"It's nothing really," you reply, stretching your legs out in front of you, pointing your toes towards the window in order to stretch out your calves. Your shoes had long since been discarded as you and Luke continued to dwindle down the boxes. "I would've been home wallowing in self-pity anyway, this gives me something to do." You say in explanation before you stand to begin pulling the sheets onto the twin sized bed.
"I don't take you for the wallowing type," he says, moving to the other side of the bed in order to help you. You look up at him, noticing that his eyes have lingered on you far longer than they probably should have in his daughter's bedroom.
"I'm not usually," you reply, tossing the blanket onto the mattress and straightening it out. "But when you turn down a marriage proposal and effectively crush a guy..." you trail off, smoothing out the cases on the pillow, fixing the small stuffed animal that had fallen over in the shuffle. "You tend to reflect a lot after that, wondering what's wrong with you and all." When there is nothing left for you to fix in the room you let out a breath you didn't realize you had been holding and turn to look at him. You don't know what caused you to bare your emotions to this stranger, but you find yourself opening up to him.
"Why did you say no?" He asks, breaking down the box that is nearest to him and you reach out to trace your fingers over the doll that you had placed on her nightstand.
"We wanted different things in the end," you say, keeping your back to him. "He wanted a wife and kids and I didn't want to be trapped in a marriage because it was the right time for him. I couldn't help but feel as if there was more out there for me." You chuckle sadly, reaching out to fix the lampshade that you had knocked askew.
"That seems like a good reason to not get married," he says coming to stand by you. He reaches out to open the door, letting you walk into the hallway first before he turns off the light casting the both of you into darkness. You walk down to the living room where he pulls the blanket covering Lex over her shoulders once again before he goes to the fridge and pulls out two beers, opening them as he walks over to the back door, letting Roxy run out into the yard, the fading sun a beautiful backdrop to the galloping dog. He hands you a beer as you both settle onto the patio furniture, and you wonder if he had purchased the set or if it came with the house.
"I met Lex's mom in a bar," he begins "we were only together for the one night. I never thought I'd hear from her again until the day she called asking for my address." He shakes his head before taking a swig of his beer. "I told her I would be home around six, I was in the Phoenix Field Office that day just finishing up some paperwork, and when I looked up again I was running about ten minutes late. I texted her and got no response, I called and it went straight to voicemail." You turn to look at him, noticing how his eyes had glazed over, and you realize that it isn't looking into the yard anymore, but instead focused on a moment in the past. "When I got to my apartment the doorman told me that a woman had been by to see me and I thought nothing of it when he said that she left, I just figured she didn't want to wait for a guy she had only met once." he takes another pull from the bottle, clutching it by the neck between his open legs as he rests his forearms on his thighs. "So when I got to my door and I saw a car seat sitting there I nearly pulled my gun on her. She was so tiny. Robin left a half-assed apology note, a birth certificate, and a yellow blanket." He finishes, pressing the bottle to his lips again and taking a larger sip. You watch as he tilts his head back, the sharp lines of his jaw fading into his neck, and you find yourself wondering what it would feel like to kiss his skin. Instead, you take a sip of your beer, wincing slightly at the taste, it's been a few months since you actually drank one, the last time being with Kevin.
"She's a sweet kid." You say, letting the compliment settle between the pair of you.
"She's my entire world," he says, turning to look at you with a smile. "I'd do anything for her." You nod your head, knowing the weight of the words he speaks to you. You watch him finish his beer before you take another sip, preparing to finish yours. You sit in silence together, taking in the fading sun, the sky changing colors with each passing minute. And when your drink is gone you stand and rinse the bottle in his kitchen sink before tucking your hands into your back pockets, while turning to look at him.
"I should probably get going," you say, edging closer to the door and slipping your shoes back onto your feet. You reach down to scratch Roxy behind the ears when you grab your purse from the small hook he had tossed it on.
"Will we see you again?" he asks, scratching the back of his neck in what you've come to notice is his nervous tick. You smile from your crouched position in front of his dog.
"I've already programmed my personal number into your phone," you say, standing and reaching out for the door and opening it. "Call or text me, either one is good." You give him a slight wave before you close the door, leaning up against it once you hear the latch click behind you. Letting out a shaky breath you try to calm your nerves as you pull your keys out of your purse and take the first step away from him and towards your car. You don't notice the small face peering at you from the living room window as you pull away from the curb, but when you finally get home you can't help but feel as if something is missing.