Hold On

He’d grabbed the Pringles and I was gathering up used paper plates, napkins, and the remains of the pizza, timing it just right.

I was still gathering when I called, “Ethan?”

“Yeah, Mom?”

I drew in a deep breath.

Then I told the pizza, “You’re the absolute best kid on the planet and I love you more than breath, you hear me?”

“I hear you, Mom,” he replied quietly.

I said no more.

We cleared up.

Then we ate M&M’s and kicked video game bad guy ass.

After that, my kid went to sleep.

*

I sat cross-legged on my bed, one light on, dimmed by a scarf over it.

I was barefoot but otherwise still had on my jeans and tee, my makeup, my jewelry, everything.

I had my phone in my hand, my head tipped to it.

My texts were up, specifically mine and Merry’s text string.

The last was from me.

DONE.

More evidence of my short fuse and me overreacting.

I closed my eyes tightly.

I opened them and allowed my thumbs to move over the screen.

I’m sorry. I was a total bitch this morning. It was out of hand. You didn’t deserve it. Not a word. I lost it and I really wish I hadn’t.

I stared at the text.

Then I hit backspace until it disappeared.

Ethan totally dug on you waking him up. He liked that you were looking out for me.

I studied the text for a while before I deleted it.

He just digs you. He thinks you’re cool and funny and he was hoping you being with us meant you were with me.

My eyes blazed like fire, a sensation I was getting used to as I hit backspace until the words were gone.

I woke up liking that you’d looked after me too. Looked after us. I liked that a lot, Merry.

I erased and then typed.

Then I did what I’m really good at doing and screwed it up.

I made it gone and then made more.

But I’m in love with you and that scares me.

Quicker than the last, I got rid of that one.

I’m sorry.

I stared at those two words on my phone, my thumb hovering over the send button.

It moved and deleted.

I turned off the phone and tossed it on the bed, lifting both hands to press the base of my palms to my eyes, trying to soothe the fire.

That didn’t work, so I unfolded out of bed and went to the bathroom to take off my makeup in order to start getting ready to try and get some sleep.

I knew this would be an impossible task.

And when I finally lay alone in the dark, I found I was right.

*

Garrett

Garrett stood on his balcony having a smoke, his head bent, his phone in his hand.

He engaged it, distractedly making note he needed to get a new one because that crack was fucking irritating.

His thumb sliding across the screen, he went to his texts.

Specifically his and Cher’s string.

DONE.

That was her last.

Fuck.

He turned off his phone and looked to his view.

She was right.

When he woke early, he should have woken her to discuss how they’d play the Ethan thing. He’d jumped the gun, made a decision that wasn’t his to make.

So she was right to be angry.

But she’d lost it, spewing shit that was completely out of line.

Which pissed him off.

He didn’t hide it. She knew it, and it was written all over her by the time he’d walked out the door that she regretted it. And anyway, that was Cher. She didn’t often hold back.

But since then…nothing. No apology. No Cher being cocky-cute or a pain in the ass in a good way to try to cover it up and move on.

Nothing.

The look of her waking up, the way her eyes were on him, the touch of her mouth to his throat, that fucking kiss, it all penetrated his brain.

He’d gotten in there.

You got somethin’ worth fighting for, you fight for it. You do not sit on your ass waitin’ for it to come back to you.

She’d been right.

But the way things were with them, she was also partially wrong.