Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart 3)
She chuckled out a disbelieving sound. “I’m sorry, Izzy, but whether you want to admit it or not, the two of you clearly have a ton of unfinished business.”
“Yeah, well, I’d do best to shut it down.”
Hang up a nice sign that read Closed Indefinitely to go along with that chastity belt I should have ordered.
Expedited.
“Really?” she challenged.
“Absolutely,” I returned.
Letting myself get lost in Maxon Chambers was nothing but a fool’s game.
She angled closer and lowered her voice. “How did it feel kissin’ him? How did it feel with him touchin’ you?”
Chills streaked across my flesh. I would totally blame it on the weather if it weren’t for the searing southern heat blazing from the blue, blue sky.
I wavered, fiddled with a wrapper, studied the logo on the napkin. “Like I was flyin’,” I finally admitted without looking up at her.
“And when’s the last time someone sent you flyin’?”
I sent her a glare. “I was married.”
Her expression turned dubious. “Yes, I do remember. So, I’m gonna ask you that question again.”
I huffed. “Fine. The last time someone sent me flyin’ was the last time Maxon Chambers touched me. There. Are you happy?”
It was always, always him.
Her tone softened. “It’s not a question of whether I’m happy or not, Izzy. It’s about whether you are.”
“I’m . . . satisfied,” I settled on.
She grinned. “After last night, I bet you are.”
“Faith,” I scolded, redness rising to my cheeks.
“Stop bein’ such a prude.”
“I’m not a prude. I’m just . . . cautious.”
“Maybe that’s your problem . . . you’re bein’ too cautious. Maybe you need to let the chips fall where they may.”
“You know how that worked out the last time.”
“And I also know you both were young. Naïve. Made choices that neither of you would make today.’’
My lips pursed, knowing she was right, but not sure of what the outcome would have been if I had done it differently.
In the end, Maxon would still have been the same man.
Faith tipped her head to the side. “What was he like with the boys?”
I sat back in my chair, my heart in my throat at the memory. “Amazin’. They took to him like he’d been there all along. Like he was their best friend.”
She took a bite of her salad, hesitating before she asked, “And how did that make you feel?”
I hiked a shoulder. “Scared. Ecstatic. Hopeful and terrified. Everything in between and all at once.”
Pausing, I looked out over the shopping center that was in the same plaza as the dental office, trying to process the convoluted emotions that had stalked me all night.
I returned my gaze to her. “The hardest part was watching him struggle. Seeing how Benjamin’s disability was affecting him. I know him well enough to know that he wants to make it right. Like it’s somethin’ that can just be fixed or a burden that he can shoulder. I’m not sure he’s really grasped what taking care of a child like Benjamin means.”
“And you don’t think he’s up for the responsibility?” she asked.
If I had the answer to that, things would be so much easier.
“He says that he is. That he wants to be there for him. I’m not sure if I can trust that or not.” I met her eye. “He asked if he could be there today for Benjamin’s first appointment.”
She nodded like she wasn’t surprised by that at all. “What did you tell him?”
“That I didn’t think he or Benjamin were ready for that.”
She gave me a look that promised she wasn’t surprised by that, either.
Worry trembled through my being, and I chewed at my lip, trying to put the feeling into words. “It’s more than just him being there at his appointments for support. This is a man who has been hurt so badly, and I’m not sure he can differentiate what is caring for a child, loving them wholly, and thinking he’s directly responsible for every single thing that child goes through. He was devastated when he realized that Benjamin would be in pain during his therapies. Nearly lost it when I told him the number of surgeries he’s had.”
“Can you blame him?”
“For hurtin’ for his child? Wishin’ his life was easier? No. But I’m not sure he can handle watching him suffer.”
“Like you do it just fine?” she challenged.
I blew out a short breath. “It kills me, Faith, but it’s part of our lives. Our everyday.”
“What if Maxon wants to become part of that life, too? He hasn’t had all those years to accept Benjamin’s disability. He wasn’t there. And before you say it, yes, I know full well that was his fault. But the man can’t make a change if he’s not given a chance to do it.”
My words took on a tone of desperation. “And what if he fails? What if my boys fall for him, and he walks away when it gets too hard? I’m not sure I can take that risk.”