Archie shook his head, eyes widening. He took on a solemn expression. “I won’t use it, mama, until they leave. The bad guys will leave, right?”
She wished to hell she had a definite answer to that, but could only hold on to hope and nod. “Yes. It might take a long time, but they will. For now, we have to lay low and not draw attention. Tell me what you want to do, honey.”
Archie considered, looking around, then paused when he glanced at the guestroom. He gave her a hopeful look. “Can I paint? I miss Uncle Edmund.”
Again, her chest squeezed, but there was no one to blame but herself. She nodded once more and carried some art materials to the living room, where Archie peered through the window, mirroring Edmund’s actions before he started drawing over a pad. Alexa decided to sit beside him with her pad in hand, sketching to pass the time and feeling the clock ticking somewhere in her head. She ignored it, willing her fingers to keep moving until Archie put down his brush and proudly showed off his work.
“What do you think, mama?”
The squiggles were messy and so were the color splotches, but Archie’s joy surpassed it all.
“It’s wonderful, honey. Do you want to paint some more?”
“Yes, mama.”
They went on until the sun went down, then greeted Charlie’s arrival with a steaming meal. Her brother descended on the food immediately, scarfing everything down with fervor and praising Archie when the boy showed off the paintings once more.
“Can I paint one more thing, mama?” Archie asked, the excitement vibrating in the boy’s small frame.
“Sure. One last, and it’s time to prepare for bed,” she granted.
When the kid was safely engrossed in the living room, Charlie stacked plates and spoke in a low voice.
“Any news from the bastard?”
“No.” At her reply, his shoulders relaxed. Then they stiffened at her query.
“Any news from Edmund?”
“No. Why would I know what happened to him?” He scowled, then mulled over it. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
The scowl deepened. “He grew tired of us, didn’t he? That’s why he was gone and didn’t bother returning.”
“I kicked him out and—”
“You kicked him out?” Charlie interrupted, taken aback. His features narrowed. “What did he do?”
“He declared his love and that he was a part of this. I told him that he didn’t need to involve himself in anything and decided it was easier if he was left out of the equation altogether…what?” she asked at his continuous staring.
“Nothing. That’s cold, but you are right. It’s for the best. We have survived on our own, and we will,” he said firmly.
The declaration made her realize that perhaps she hadn’t been the only one affected by the first heartbreak and her trust issues afterward, as Charlie had been with her every step of the way through Archie’s growth. She watched him take care of the dishes and clean up the kitchen, then the way he naturally gravitated towards Archie to ask the kid about the third artwork. She envisioned Edmund in the same role and was astonished by how natural that felt, too, then brushed it off. But there was one thing she couldn’t brush off, nagging in her system until she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Would you mind terribly if you watched over Archie for a while…?”
“Of course, I don’t mind. What is even up with that question?” Charlie scoffed, then perused her. “Where are you going?”
“I just need to make sure someone’s safe,” she reasoned out, not meeting the judgment in his expression. “I will be back quickly.”
She left it at that, kissing Archie and flying out of the apartment, then hastening her way through the streets, where she was kept hidden by the shadows and the crowds she blended into. Arriving at the warehouse filled her with a quickening heartbeat before it settled, assured that she hadn’t been followed. The silence underground made her wonder if she should have called first, and the scent of fresh paint had her wandering over to his usual painting room, where she noted the spotless floors.
“Come off it, Alexa,” she scolded herself. “This is trespassing. He can kick you out just like you kicked him out.”
A canvas facing the wall caught her attention and slowed down her steps on her way out. She hesitated. Curiosity got the better of her as she heaved it around, wanting just a peek before she left…
Peeking turned into staring. Then she was gobbling up the swirls of colors that filled the canvas, leaving no bare spot behind. To anyone’s eyes, it just looked like a gorgeous abstract piece that was beautiful to look at and would be a great display at any museum, but to her…it was a declaration of love, one so stark that she staggered back with its intensity.