The Man Who Has No Soul (Soulless 1)

“Dad.”

I finally sighed and cracked my eyes open, seeing my own eyes staring back at me. He was beside me, wearing his space pajamas. It took me a few seconds to understand he was real, to understand my son was really there with me, sleeping in my bed like he used to. “Hmm?”

“What are we going to do today?”

I loved the freedom of my bachelor life, sleeping alone, having no responsibilities, not having to worry about anyone but myself. But I never got as much joy out of life as I did when I was with my son, even if he woke me up at the crack of dawn, even if he wanted me to pay attention to him all the time. “Fishing.”

“We’re going fishing?” he whispered. “Here? There’s just buildings everywhere…”

“I have a cabin a few hours away.”

“Yes.” He made a fist with one of his hands then pulled his elbow toward his stomach.

I chuckled, missing his signature move. My arm wrapped around him, and I pulled him close, snuggling with him like a stuffed animal, placing kisses on his forehead, loving my son with everything I had.

He didn’t fight my affection like he used to. He seemed to miss it as much as I did. “What’s it like?”

“Lots of trees, right on the lake, a big cabin…”

“Can we go now?”

“Well, we’ve got to get ready first. Have breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said quickly.

I chuckled. “Well, we need to eat before we go, so you better get hungry.” I kissed his forehead again before I got out of bed and stretched. My eyes glanced to the clock on the nightstand, seeing it was six in the morning—on a Saturday.

Derek got out of bed and left my bedroom to explore the rest of the penthouse. “This place is so cool!”

I opened my dresser and pulled out a shirt to pull over my head. Then I walked down the hallway to the dining room and living room.

Derek grabbed the remote and figured out all the controls for the TV, pulling up the kids channel so he could watch his favorite cartoons.

“What do you want for breakfast?” I stepped into the kitchen and looked in the fridge.

“Eggos.”

“I don’t have Eggos.” I opened the freezer—and there they were. “Cleo…” I grabbed the box and pulled them out. “Never mind.” I popped them in the toaster then made myself some scrambled eggs and grilled veggies.

As I stood over the pan, I looked into the living room, seeing Derek sitting on the rug in front of the TV, watching it just the way he did at home. When the waffles were done, I put them on a plate with a squirt of syrup. “It’s ready.” I set it on the table.

He moved to the dining room and climbed on one of the chairs so he could eat.

I brought my plate and sat across from him.

He ripped the waffle into pieces, eating with his hands, kicking his leg under the table, his eyes on the TV.

I stared at him, unable to believe how normal this was, how much I’d missed doing this. I’d taken these moments for granted for the last five years.

Derek turned back to me. “That Cleo lady is nice.”

“Yes, she is.”

“I think she’s my friend.”

I smiled. “Yeah, she is your friend.”

“Is she your friend?”

I nodded.

“Or is she your girlfriend?” He chuckled like he was teasing me.

I continued to smile. “No. Just my friend.”

“She colors good.”

“Yeah?”

“On the plane, she colored a garden. But the flowers were all these different colors, every petal different. It was really cool.”

“What did you color?”

“A rocket.”

“Show it to me later.”

“Alright.” He kept eating, watching the TV.

I was done, but I sat there so I could stare at him, the accomplishment I was most proud of.

“I know you and Mom are divorced, but does that mean you’ll never come back?” Derek turned back to me.

I sighed at the question, unsure how to answer it. “Maybe someday. It’s been really hard to live here without you. I miss you every day.”

“Why haven’t you called?”

Another tough question. “Your mother and I…just have a hard time getting along.”

He dabbed his waffle into the syrup before he took a bite.

“We’ll work on it.”

When he was finished, his hands were all sticky, so he wiped them clean with the napkin.

“What have you been up to, Derek?”

“I started to build a rocket, but Mom got maaaaad.”

I chuckled.

“She told me not to, but I did it anyway. But then I got stuck on the propulsion part. Haven’t been able to figure it out.”

If I were there, I could do it with him. But I wasn’t. “We’ll FaceTime when you go home, and I’ll help you with it.”

“Okay.” His eyes lit up. “So, can we go now?”

“We’ve got to shower and get dressed.”

“But we’re just going to smell like worms anyway.”