tossed back with a touch of bravado, trying to stall for a few seconds to clear my head.
“I’m listening, Maxine. So, tell me, what’s in New York?”
He leaned against the refrigerator and crossed his arms, the damning tickets dangling from his fingertips.
I began to pace. “Val—my friend from New York—”
“I know who Val is.”
I cleared my throat. “She called and told me that…Quinn’s wife, Nikita, was killed in a car accident. The…funeral is day after tomorrow.”
For an instant there was a flash of shock in his eyes mixed with compassion. His stiff expression momentarily relaxed. His gaze met mine.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Max, but what does that have to do with you?”
“We were…he’s Jamel’s…” I blew out a breath. I was making a real mess out of this. “I should be there, Ty. He was someone important to me…once. He’s had so many tragedies in his life, Ty,” I said as the pain welled inside me—with the memories of how he’d taken care of his sister Lacy when their mother walked out on them, and then losing Lacy in that horrid shoot-out—hoping I could find the words to make him understand. “I need to be there…as a friend.”
“You sure that’s all, Max—a friend?”
I planted my hands on my hips. “What are you trying to say?” I asked, guilt toughening my voice, while my insides shook.
“I’m not trying to say anything. I said it. If it’s just about you being a friend, then why all the cloak and dagger? Why the cold shoulder toward me?”
The catch in his voice was unmistakable, even as he stood in front of me challenging, demanding. Beneath the ironclad exterior, he cradled his hurt and feelings about breach of trust.
My throat tightened. “Ty, I—”
“It makes me think you’re hiding something, you know. Like maybe you still have feelings for him. That you couldn’t tell me because you feel guilty. Is that the real deal, Maxine? Because if it is, I want to know. Now.”
A jumble of emotions and perfect-for-the-circumstances answers volleyed for position. I know he claimed to want the truth, but I couldn’t believe that he really did. And how could I explain to him the maelstrom of confusion that was waging war inside me?
“Hey. You don’t even have to say anything. Your silence is answer enough.”
He handed me the tickets, walked out of the kitchen and through the front door, its dull thud a perfect epitaph to the end of my day.
Jamel walked into the kitchen, his thumb stuck in his mouth, eyes downcast. “Where Daddy go?”
I bent down and scooped him up, anchoring him on my hip. “Daddy just went for a walk,” I said, hoping it was true. I kissed his forehead.
“I’m hungry,” he mumbled over his thumb, resting his head on my shoulder.
I looked around, dinner all but forgotten, the remnants of the half-made salad still in the sink. The casserole dish filled with grilled salmon on its bed of yellow rice and zucchini sat on the kitchen counter. Signs of Taylor’s caring touch were everywhere—the sunshine-yellow walls he’d recently painted, the new cabinets he’d put in on his free weekends, the stereo system he’d replaced when mine hit its last note. Even Jamel, who was always bathed and cared for when I arrived home from work.
I held Jamel a bit tighter. Taylor was a good man, better than good. There was nothing too big or too small around the house for him to deal with, no problem too trivial for him to listen to. I never had to worry about where he was at night because he was always home, with me and Jamel.
“I want to make a life for us, Maxine,” he’d said several months after we’d met, even as my belly grew fuller with Quinn’s child.
“But, Ty, what about the baby? I know it’s going to be hard to—”
“I can make you happy, Maxine. You and the baby. I love you, and I’m going to love the child you’re carrying just like my own. It doesn’t matter as long as we’re together,” he’d said running his hand along my cheek. “Give me a chance, Max. Give us a chance.”
When I’d looked into his eyes, the depth of love and sincerity radiated from them and entered my soul. In that moment I decided to give in to my emotions, let Taylor enter my heart and allow his love to fill me. Stop fighting what seemed our destiny. And every day that he’d been in my life was a blessing. No woman could ask for more from a man. Taylor exceeded all of his promises to me and to Jamel.
Yet, here I stood—alone—unable to tell this very same man that there was nothing and no one more important to me than him. Not even Quinten Parker. And the why not is what chilled me.
“Mommy, you cryin’?”
I blinked, then looked at my son. “No, sweetie,” I said over a wobbly smile. “I just have something in my eye.”
“I’m still hungry.”
I sniffed. “Then let’s get you something to eat.”
After fixing Jamel’s dinner and then settling him down for bed, I spent the next few hours alternating between jumping up to look out the window at every sound, and checking the phone to make sure it was working.
Every noise made me think it was Taylor returning home.
He didn’t.
And I thought I would go out of my mind with worry. By the time two a.m. rolled around, I was ready to start calling hospitals. I envisioned the worst.
From the day we moved in together, we’d never spent a night apart. Until now. I wanted to kick myself. Why couldn’t I have simply told him what he needed to hear? Why did I let him walk out believing that there was any man more important to me than him?
I stretched out across the bed, right on top of the comforter, too exhausted to pull it back. Staring up at the ceiling, I knew the answer, and it terrified me.
At some point sleep snatched me, buffeting me around on clouds of confusion, indecision, and guilt.
In a fitful sleep, I kept coming back to a fork after a long walk down an empty road. One direction was filled with light, and sounds of laughter. In the other direction the path appeared to be filtered, as if I were seeing it through a thin mist, making it difficult for me to see anything except the figure of Quinn, who held his hand out to me. He promised me he’d love me always, for real this time. We could be a family. He needed his son.
I started to walk toward him. Then I heard Taylor’s voice. “Don’t go, Maxine. I need you, too. I love you. We are a family. Max!”
I looked toward Quinn, then Taylor.
“Max. Maxine.”
My eyes flew open. For a moment the room was out of focus. When it cleared, Taylor was standing above me. It was morning. I sat up.
“Ty. Baby. I was worried. I’m
