Shattered & Mended (11 page)

He takes a bite of his pastry and washes it down with his coffee. “Columbian, two sugars and one cream?” I ask, remembering how I made it for him many times before.

“You know it.” Why does it have to be so hard to hate him? After all the mistakes he’s made
, I still can’t hate him, no matter how hard I try. Then again, they’re mistakes and they deserve forgiveness, right? As I sit here and watch his quirky habits, I begin to realize just how much I miss him. I miss seeing his messy hair in the mornings. I miss him rubbing my head until I fell asleep at night. And I really miss him running from Mom when she caught us sleeping together. She’d chase him with anything she could get her hands on. Curling iron, extension cord, broom, fire poker … he’s been hit with them all.

“What are you laughing about?” he asks.

“Nothing really, just how Mom would chase you through the house, swattin’ at your ass with whatever she could find. You remember that?” I laugh.

“Like it was yesterday,” he says, laughing along with me. 

After we attract attention and earn a few glares from surrounding customers, we silence our laughter and finish our coffee. “I miss this. I miss the sound of your laughter, being the cause of it,” he confesses.

I rest my hands on my stomach and jump out of my seat when I feel one of the babies kick me for the first time. I mean, they’ve fluttered around, but nothing to this extent. I’ve felt them for a few weeks, but they weren’t strong enough for anyone else to feel.

Wyatt jumps up and rushes to my side. “What is it?” he asks concerned.

I keep my eyes and hands attached to my belly and feel it again. “Feel.” I remove my hand and replace it with his. I raise my head and watch him as he sees my stomach jump; I want to see his reaction. And sure enough, he’s amazed. One of the babies gives a kick or punch, and his mouth falls open.

“Holy shit, that’s the baby?” he asks amazed.

“Yeah.” He positions himself in front of me and cradles my bump, but the movements stop. 

We sit back down at our table, and the atmosphere should be awkward, but it isn’t. “We broke your no touching rule,” he beams. Damn, we did. I rummage through my purse to check the time on my phone and see I have a text from Blake. 

Blake: OK. But just one cup, dammit! Love u!

Me: Promise. Be home soon.

I place my phone back in my bag, throw it on my shoulder and stand. “You’re leaving?” Wyatt asks, his smile quickly fading.

“Yeah, I shouldn’t have agreed to come here.” I push my chair under the table and make my way out of the coffee shop.

As soon as my feet hit the sidewalk outside the shop, Wyatt’s hand circles my arm. “Butterfly, please, don’t go. We were having a good time, just like old times. If this is about me touching you, I’m sorry,” he begins to apologize.

“No, it wasn’t your fault. I got caught up in the moment, that’s all. I should’ve been home. Blake should’ve been the first to feel the babies move,” I admit, cutting his apology short. I take long strides to my car and get in. As soon as I’m in the seat, I lock the doors and start the car. I don’t give my car time to adjust before I slam the gear into reverse and take off. I look into the rearview mirror and see Wyatt with his head down and kicking dust.

I shouldn’t have gone for coffee, and I sure as shit shouldn’t have let him touch our babies. Gah! I’m so fucking weak. I got trapped in our past, remembering the love I had for that handsome, blue
-
eyed teenage boy I once knew. Remembering the person, who stood by my side, never let me give up, and brought me back to life after my father died. I got lost in his see-through eyes and forgot about the piece-of-shit twenty-year-old asshole who stole my virginity, knocked me up, and left me to deal with the pain of life, all by myself. 

Fifteen

~Wyatt~

It’s a wet and nasty day. The sky is dark and the rain’s never-ending. Pulling out my phone
, I call the only person whose voice brings me peace. The only woman who can calm me down just as fast as she can piss me off. And just like the last ten times I’ve called, I get sent to voicemail. “Allie, it’s me again. Listen, I don’t know what’s going on between us, but I wish you’d stop ignoring me. We were fine at the coffee shop a few weeks ago, and now it’s like you’ve vanished. Anyway, I miss you and hope you woman up and call me soon. I’m headed to the hearing. I guess I’ll call you if I find out anything today. Just know that I miss you, and I’m thinking of you.” I finish my statement just before her mailbox shuts off. She hasn’t been home to get any clothes. She continues to ignore me, and I miss the living hell out of her. She seemed fine the last time we were together, just like we used to be.

Today’s the first hearing, the day I find out if I have any chance of getting custody of Lacy. As I enter the courtroom, I find Larry and accompany him at the table at the front of the room. As we sit at our table and adjust our chairs, my eyes catch Dr. Ruben and his wife taking their places on the opposite side of the room. I attempt to avoid eye contact with them, mainly because the woman is dabbing a tissue under her eyes to dry her tears, and I don’t want to see the hatred I assume they have for me. Who wouldn’t hate the person who’s trying to tear their family apart?

Do I feel bad fighting for what’s rightfully mine? No, not at all. Do I feel awful about the heartache they could experience if the judge grants me custody of her? Of course, I do; I’m not a heartless monster. I have no negative feelings toward the Rubens. In fact, I’m very appreciative of them. They’ve taken Lacy into their home, raised her as their own, nurtured her, and loved her. It’s not their fault we’re in this situation; it’s mine. I skim the courtroom and look for any guest who might’ve accompanied them. Really, I’m searching for a girl who looks to be around four years of age, but I don’t see her. I don’t blame them for not bringing her, but I wish they would have. I can’t wait to finally meet my blue-eyed princess.

We stand as the judge enters. Once she has a seat and orders us to be seated, she cuts straight to the chase. “Mr. Morris, Mr. Long,” she acknowledges both lawyers with a curt nod.

“Your Honor,” they greet in unison.

My phone vibrates as the judge looks through the file in front of her. I reach in my pocket to pull it out, but Larry firmly grabs my hand and stops me. “Not now,” he whispers.

“Mr. Cooper, I see that you’re here to get custody of your daughter, three-and-a-half years after her adoption? Please, enlighten me. Why the sudden interest?” she asks. Larry motions for me to stand.

I stand and answer her question. “Your Honor,” I greet. “I have a sudden interest in my daughter because I only recently found out about her existence. You see, I made the biggest mistake of my life a little over four years ago leaving her mother behind. Being young and quick to make irrational decisions, I left without letting Allie know my whereabouts. For the last four years, I’ve served my country, and when I returned home, I discovered I have a daughter who someone else is raising. Your Honor, I assure you that I had no knowledge of Lacy until a few months ago,” I continue. She replaces her glasses and looks through the papers in her hands. The courtroom’s eerily silent, except for the rattling paper and sniffling coming from the Ruben’s table.

“Mr. Cooper, are you aware that Miss Anderson and the agency reached out to you?”

“No, Ma’am. She did?” I ask. I know she said she followed state regulations and did everything the agency asked of her, but I’m unaware of what they require.

“She did. Mr. Morris, please accompany your client up to my podium,” she orders. I follow Larry to the podium, and she lays out several papers in front of us. “This is a clipping from the local paper. This is the email sent to your account, and this is where she placed an ad on a website. She reached out to you more than we required her to. She wanted you to see these articles. She was pleading for help from you,” she explains, pointing to each individual ad. “You didn’t see any of these, Mr. Cooper? No one told you about Allie’s attempt to find you? Your friends or family, anyone?” she asks.

“No. I didn’t keep in contact with anyone after I left,” I admit. I inhale a deep breath in an attempt to keep my composure. Because right now, I feel as if I could break down at any moment. The last thing I need is for this case to be dismissed or prolonged because the judge sees me as unstable and sends me off for a psych evaluation. 

Allie wanted our baby, and I’m the reason she couldn’t raise her. She reached out to me and believes I ignored her; that’s why she followed through with the adoption. Fuck, I truly am unworthy of her love. “You may go back to your seats.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Your Honor,” Larry replies.

Dr. Ruben’s eyes remain attached to the side of my face as I make my way back to the table. I chance a glance at him, and I see a look that I never thought I would see from him. It’s not a look of anger or hate, but empathy. He gives a nod and turns his attention back to his silently-sobbing wife.

“Mr. Cooper, I have to admit that this is a rare case, and I’m going to have to think long and hard about my decision. Honestly, I’m not sure that it would be fair for me to take this little girl away from her parents. Dr. and Mrs. Ruben are all she’s ever known. She doesn’t know who you are, Mr. Cooper. Now, is it fair to you? No, because every father deserves a chance to be one. However, I have to consider what’s best for the child. As of now, it’s best that she remain in the custody of her adoptive parents, Dr. and Mrs. Ruben. I’m going to take a week or two to read through this file thoroughly, read the depositions and get a feel for who you are. In the meantime, I’m going to order a DNA test to prove you’re the biological father of Lacy. Mr. Morris will inform you of the place and time to appear for your testing.”

Not what I was hoping for today, but I’ll take it because it’s not a no. “Aren’t the judges supposed to read the dockets prior to their hearings?” I ask my lawyer curiously, as we leave the courtroom.

“Not necessarily. They glance through them and get a sense of what their cases are about. Most of the time, especially in a case such as yours
, the judge wants to hear your story from you, rather than read it. Anything can look good on paper, but emotion is better seen in person. You can put emotions on paper, but it really shines through when you’re put on the spot. Now that she knows you’re sincere, she’ll read it all,” he explains nonchalantly. And since he’s relaxed and calm about her decision to hold off on her verdict, I relax. “Plus, we have to prove you’re the father,” he adds with a smile.

“I’m not sure what you’re smiling about, Larry, but you need to suppress that shit. She’s mine, no question about it,” I snap. 

“I’m sure she is. Calm down. I’m just saying that it’s not uncommon for DNA results to be different than we expected them to be.” He slaps my shoulder and strides over to his Hummer. “I’ll be in touch, Mr. Cooper,” he throws over his shoulder, ending our conversation as he climbs into his gas-guzzling vehicle Hummer.

***

It’s been two days since the hearing, and I’ve yet to hear a damn thing from Allie or Larry. “What!” Allie snaps. Yes, I’ve been blowing her phone up for days.

“Calm down, killer,” I tease.

“What do you want?” she sighs.

I want what every person wants when they call someone, to talk. “I know your hormones are all fucked up, but it’d be easier to talk to you if you’d at least pretend you were happy to hear from me,” I suggest. I remember when I could walk into the same room as her, and my very presence would light up her face. Making her happy came easy then. Now, her reaction to me is all sorts of conflicting. She ignores my calls and
texts. She says one thing, but her body and eyes say another. When she’s around me, by herself, she opens up to me. The spark between us gets stronger each time we touch. Sometimes, giving up seems like the better plan. However, I’m no quitter, and I keep my promises. Plus, giving up is easy, and anything worth having is worth fighting for.

“I’ve been calling every damn day, Al, but you know that, because you continue to send me straight to voicemail. What happened, huh?” I question, wondering why she’s giving me the cold shoulder, especially after the coffee shop.

“Nothing happened. We aren’t friends. We aren’t family, and we aren’t together. If we were, I would’ve answered your calls. Take the hint and know I don’t have anything to discuss with you.” When’s she going to learn that she can’t hide things from me? She sucks at lying, and the quivering in her voice tells me that’s exactly what she’s doing. 

“Do us both a favor, save our time and admit you want me. There’s no denying it, butterfly; our kiss said it all. I felt your legs go weak, baby. Hell, I even felt your heart pounding through your mouth as my mouth claimed yours. Fighting is hard, isn’t it? You know just as well as I do that your heart’s a slave to my touch.” I hear her breath quicken just before I hear the click of a door closing.

“You’re full of yourself. I forgot, okay? I let myself forget about all the pain you’ve caused me and reminisced about what we used to have. But don’t worry, that’ll never happen again. I already told you I love you, but not the way you say you love me. You’re the memory I want to forget. You come home after being gone for four years
; I have a baby and give her away, and had endless nights of crying myself to sleep. I cried for you, prayed for you to appear out of thin air, and finally you do—at the worst time,” she sniffs. “The absolute worst time, ever. My heart may think it needs you, but it doesn’t. You’re the douche that fucked me and left me, for four fucking years! Yes, I may have forgiven you for leaving, but you did it again the night I told you about me being pregnant. Not only that, but I saw you fucking my best friend, Wyatt. Don’t say anything,” she warns.

She knows me and my defensive habits well. “I believe what you showed me, but that’s not a memory I can erase. Besides, I already told you that Blake’s claimed my heart. He picked up the pieces you left behind and mended it back together. I want him, Wyatt. Please, let me love him. For once, put me first and allow me to be happy,” she pleads.

Her plea slices through me like frigid winds. “I can’t,” I choke. I wait for her response, expecting her to tell me ‘you can and you will’, but praying she surrenders and encourages me to continue fighting. The only thing I hear is her sigh before ending the call.

I refuse to cry because she can’t love me the way she used to; she doesn’t need to. I’m not the immature and irrational boy I once was. I’m a grown and mature man, and it’s my mission to make her love me for the man I am now, not the man I used to be. Blake can’t claim her heart when I still own it. And he hasn’t mended her heart
; he’s only temporarily fixed it. I’m the permanent fix, and they both know it. She’s always had a heart of gold and never wants to hurt anyone, but not this time. I’m not letting her take the easy way out, and that’s what she’s doing by using Blake as a security blanket; that’s all he is. I refuse to step aside while they live life playing house. Hell no. She’s going to pull up her big-girl panties and face reality, and fate.

Still jobless, antisocial, and going insane, I decide to call up an old friend from college. A friend who’s one hell of a listener and counselor. I cross my fingers and hope the number I have is still the same; I haven’t used it since I left Jacksonville. “This is Jordan.” I release a breath at the greeting and remain silent. I’m not sure what to say or the reaction I’ll receive. “Hello? Are you there? FUCK! I hate this phone!”

I laugh at the frustration that fills the line. “Jordan, hey, it’s Wyatt.”

“Wyatt? Seriously, who the fuck is this?”

Laughter fills the room, laughter from me; something I haven’t heard in a while. “Not fucking around, JoJo. It’s me. I was wondering if you wanted to meet and catch up. I know it’s been a while
, but I really need someone to talk to. My treat,” I coax.

“I’m headed into the office, but I shouldn’t be long. Want to meet me at Duck’s in an hour? We can grab some wings and long necks, just like we used to.”

My mouth instantly waters from remembering the taste of Duck’s wings. “Hell yeah! I’ll see you in an hour.” 

I could’ve called one of the guys, but they wouldn’t understand like JoJo will. She’s rough around the edges, sympathetic, but she’s not afraid to tell you to get your head outta your ass. I get dressed and head on over to Duck’s to take back a few cold ones before she arrives. When I walk in, Taylor’s eyes bulge from their sockets. He’s the last person I want to see. He’s an arrogant son-of-a-bitch. “Dude! Holy shit, bro. Where you been?” he asks, leaning over the bar for a guy hug.

“You know, here and there,” I shrug. Taylor was my spotter at the gym. Kyle introduced us my junior year of high school. He was actually Allie’s boyfriend before I came into the picture. He was more muscular than me back then, but now I’m double his size. I’d like to see his ass beat me in arm wrestling now. Yeah, that shit ain’t happenin’. We played football together, and everyone was intimidated by his size. Even our competitors would fall to the ground to avoid being sacked by him. 

“Have a seat, man. Damn, tell me where you’ve been,” he insists, popping the cap to my beer. “Bro, I thought you were dead,” he chuckles.