The Boy Who Has No Redemption (Soulless 8)

We walked down the hallway and approached the front door.

Ever since Cleo had told me the news, it’d been on my mind constantly. It was so easy to forget that life wasn’t guaranteed, that it could be taken without warning and without reason. It didn’t matter if you were a saint or a criminal. Cleo was selfless and giving, and it still happened to her. She was healthy and fit, fairly young, and it still happened to her.

That was terrifying.

I stopped in front of the door. “Ready?”

Lizzie stood with an arrangement of flowers in her hand. “Will Derek be here?”

“Yeah.”

She looked down at the flowers before she looked at me.

“I know we’ve been angry with Derek, but it’s time to let that go. He needs us right now.”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

I knocked.

Footsteps sounded, and then the door opened, revealing Deacon standing there in jeans and a shirt, still looking so much like Derek, tall, handsome, with a slight smile on his lips that conveyed more emotion than a wide grin. Despite the circumstances, he seemed happy to see us. “Hello, Emerson.” He looked down at Lizzie and admired the peonies in her hand. “Hey, Lizzie. Cleo will love these. Yellow is her favorite color.”

“Yeah?” Lizzie asked. “I picked them out.”

He smiled. “I had a hunch.” He turned back to me and extended his arm to give me a hug.

I stepped into him and hugged him back, hugged him like a father, felt his paternal love surround me even though his son and I had been broken up for almost five months now. He still made me feel like family, when he was the one going through the hardest time in his life. “Hey, Deacon. You look good.”

“Because my wife told me to get a haircut and shave.” When he pulled away, he turned to Lizzie and gave her a hug. “How’s softball going?”

“Good,” she said. “I use your mitt at practice.”

“That’s great. I’m glad you’re getting good use out of it.”

“Did you play baseball when you were young?”

Deacon shook his head. “No. I was more into the science club and academic decathlon…a bit of a nerd.”

Lizzie chuckled. “You’re not a nerd.”

It was hard to watch this, to be reminded of the future I would have given anything to have. It was a miracle to find a man like Derek in the first place, let alone in-laws who would love my daughter like she was a blessing rather than a mistake.

I turned to the living room and saw Derek sitting on the couch beside his mom. He was putting away a checkerboard, as if they’d just finished a game when we came to the door. Like his father, he was in jeans and a t-shirt. He put the lid on the box and set it on the table.

Cleo’s spirit was exactly the same, the light in her eyes the brightest thing in the room, her smile warm like the summer sun at the beach. But she did look different, wearing a scarf because chemo had taken her strands, and her skin was a bit hollow, like she was exhausted from fighting a battle none of us could see.

It made my eyes water.

Derek stood up then approached me, his eyes glued to my face like old times, like I was the only thing in the room that mattered every time I came into his presence. His rover, his rocket, his colleagues, none of that mattered. It was an intense gaze with a hint of longing, with a hint of love.

I used to think I was the luckiest woman in the world when he looked at me like that.

He stopped in front of me and slid his hands into his pockets. He didn’t say anything, as if he didn’t know what to say, but he wanted to be close to me.

I moved into him and hugged him.

As if he’d been hoping for that to happen, he immediately latched on to me, his thick arms circling my waist, bringing me close, embracing me like I was the love of his life rather than his ex. With his parents right there, he didn’t care. He squeezed me and held on as long as he could.

I let it happen because he needed it…and it was nice.

He pulled away reluctantly, taking his time removing his arms from around my body and stepping aside so I could see his mother.

I gave Cleo a smile, my eyes still wet, and took the seat beside her on the couch.

Her hand moved to mine, and she gave me a squeeze. “Sweetheart, don’t be sad, alright? You know how much time I save every day doing my hair?”

I chuckled, but that made two tears escape.

She moved her hand to my shoulder and patted me gently. “Just a bump in the road. Not all bumps in the road are bad. Sometimes they force us to reevaluate our next destination before we hit the gas pedal. This made me appreciate what I have so much more, and I think it’s done the same for my family.”