The beginning of feelings, when everything is warm and urgent and so fucking charged. She gave me a short but sweet taste of that by just being near me.
I dumped out the vodka that night and paid my tab off at the bar. I took a walk with Miller and at one point, just stood on the curb and watched him run laps. And now I’m buying raw cashews and kale mix, chicken and yogurt because I’m determined to… get better, I guess.
It’s okay to grieve and I know that. But I’m starting to realize, I’ll get lost in my grief if I don’t take charge of it.
I don’t know how to do that yet, but I have hope that I can. Starting with healthy food and no more booze.
And it’s during this emotional self-talk in my head that I turn the corner at the grocery store and steer my cart right into another. Like, my wrists vibrate from the bang.
“Frick!”
All I see are feet. The person behind the cart ate shit when I crammed into him or her. I tear around the collision and double over to scoop the person up and— “holy shit, it’syou.”
She blinks lazily a few times, before I loop my arm around her, lifting her off the floor in one yank. I pat her head and my big clumsy hands start working down her hair, straightening her up.
Her beautiful blue eyes slowly narrow. “What are you…?” she pushes against me a little rough, and my stupid dick likes it. I hold my hands in front of me, giving up my cause, and shake my head.
“I’m so sorry, I had no idea I was plowing around the corner like that, and I didn’t know it was you. I mean, obviously I didn’t know it was you. It’s not like I followed you here.” Holy shit I’m talking fast. I smooth my hand through my hair, finding my scalp damp from nerves. “I didn’t follow you here.”
Wow. That’s incredibly smooth.
She blinks as my heart races.
“I didn’t think you did.”
I don’t know why but I can’t fucking help myself; I grin.
Her lips twitch, and a slow smile spreads across her face, making my stomach somersault. We smile at one another for a split second before a gurgle comes from the cart, and our eye contact pauses. I turn to face the noise.
Tucked inside a black car seat that sits snugly inside the shopping cart is a little boy.
Ababyboy.
As an only child, I haven’t spent a lot of time around kids or babies. I don’t have older siblings to give me nieces or nephews, and I didn’t have a kid brother, either. But when this little blue-eyed kid grins at me, my entire body tingles.
The grin I’d had a moment ago for Rebecca has morphed into something I can’t control. A smile so wide and so genuine that just sharing a moment with this kid is making me feel so goddamn good. Like I can turn my shit around. Icando this.
I blink at him, waving; all the while I feel her eyes on me. Only, looking at this kid brings a surprising rush of tangled emotions that have me blinking multiple times to regain my composure. I give myself a long second to pull myself together before I look at her because I’ve already been insufferable. First, I told her to calm down, then I said be quiet, next I barfed my life up in front of her, then I crashed into her with my cart and professed to her how I’m not stalking her. The last thing she needs is a stranger getting emotional over her cute ass baby.
I clear my throat, the international “pull it together” trade secret used by men everywhere.
“Your son,” I say, nodding down to the kid who is currently going to town on a Giraffe’s head. The toy squeaks as he gnaws the ear, smiling around the mouthful of rubber. Drool glistens on his chin, and the chest of his airplane t-shirt is drenched.
I finally meet her gaze. His eyes are just like hers. She has a kid. This woman is a mother.
My body feels warm and tingly so I start to fidget, grabbing my cart with one hand and stuffing the other deep into my pocket.
“I don’t know if you’re asking or just stating,” she smiles, her cheeks flush. “But yes, that’s my son.”
“You have just the one?” I ask because it seems like the natural thing to ask next.
She nods, tucking a piece of wavy hair behind her ear. Man, she looks so different today than she did the first and second time I saw her. Today she appears to be much more rested and happier.
The idea that she looks better and is happier should be a good thing, but that sick, selfish part of me twists in angst, wondering what that means forme.
“Yep. Just Jett.”
“Jett?” I cock a brow as I look at the little chubby drool monster in the carrier. He grins at me again, two tiny little chicklet teeth poking up from the bottom of his mouth.