Fragile Bonds



Jacob and I have been having such a great time exploring his new bedroom, I almost forgot about the fact that Xavier was going to be thoroughly confused when he walked in. After the first few nights spent trying to convince him that he needed to come home, I realized that having constant reminders of Alyssa was a sticking point for him. So, I made the executive decision to have all of his furniture sent to storage and gave Tyler carte blanche to decorate the new space as he saw fit. The only stipulation was that he had to remember this was for a man and his four year old son, not for a bachelor.

When Jacob and I walked in, part of me wished this was my new home. The normally white walls in the living room have been painted a rich buttercream color. Xavier’s flat screen television, one of the only things moved from the house, is mounted over the fireplace against the far wall. The furniture is rustic, but seems to fit in the contemporary space. Jacob’s room is nothing you would ever see in a rental unit. Tyler called one of his friends and had a mural painted along one wall in hopes of making it feel like a place Jacob can call his own, not a temporary bedroom. The only room I haven’t looked at yet is Xavier’s room, and if I have my way, it will stay that way. I have no need to know what lies behind the door on the other side of the living room.

Tyler takes my place on the floor of Jacob’s room, listening to the little boy ramble about wanting to build a real rocket ship and fly to the moon. Xavier and I watch for a moment, making sure the two are getting along before retreating to the kitchen. “Melanie, I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but where are our things?”

Xavier doesn’t sound angry, just perplexed. Maybe the appropriate thing to do would have been to ask what he wanted to do when it came to furnishing their new space, but I feared asking him to make any sort of decision in this regard would have caused a setback that would have kept him living the life of a beach bum in the Outer Banks.

“You said you needed a fresh start,” I say quietly. I’m starting to second guess everything about what I’ve done and that pisses me off. I know I did the best thing I could for them, even if he can’t see that right now. I force myself to look into his eyes, exuding confidence that I don’t truly feel. “Everything in that house has been through our relationship as well as your time with Alyssa. Even if we had it moved here, the memories would have remained. I thought you would appreciate a truly clean slate. I’m sorry, I should have asked you first. If you don’t like what Tyler did, we can return this furniture and move your old stuff in. Right now, it’s still at the house so it’s not so empty for showings.”

I’m aware that I’m rambling, but as long as I keep talking, Xavier can’t lose his temper. This past week, his moods have been all over the place, and this is the type of thing I could see setting him off. I’m caught off guard when, for the second time today, Xavier pulls me into his arms, pressing my head against his firm chest.

“Thank you,” he sighs, placing a tender kiss on the crown of my head. I could easily get used to these little bits of affection from him. Too easily. The thought terrifies me. “It’s a lot to take in all at once, but I know your heart was in the right place.”

“You’re not upset that you’re living so close to me?” I ask, still waiting for the mood shift I’m sure is coming. He’s made it abundantly clear that he wants space to figure out how to be the best father he can to Jacob, and living two buildings down isn’t exactly giving him that.

Xavier’s firm hands land on my shoulders. He pushes me away from his body, just enough that he can look at me with those sapphire eyes. They’re starting to come back to life and I notice today, for the first time since Alyssa passed away, just how stunning they are. “I’m not sure it was the wisest move, but I understand why you did it. Just remember that you did this the first time I happen to walk down to the mailbox as some jerk picks you up for a date,” he jokes.

“If you wanted to have a say in who I dated, maybe you shouldn’t have let me go,” I quip, immediately wishing I knew how to think before speaking. Xavier’s expression falls and I know I’ve gone too far. “Xavier, I’m sorry. You know what I meant.”

I wrap my arms around his waist, hoping to bring a bit of levity back to the day. The topic of our past has been something we’ve both worked hard to avoid for this very reason. There’s too much pain and plenty of blame to go around. Talking about that time doesn’t benefit anyone.

“I do,” Xavier says sadly. “But knowing doesn’t change the fact that I hurt you. I’m sorry.”

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