I smirk. “I know, I remember your mouth.”
Her eyes turn into saucers because I just reminded her ofthe fact that our bodies mold together with perfection, and we know exactly how to make one another see stars.
“Nice. Smug Nash is making an appearance tonight.” Her sarcasm isn’t appreciated.
“How about you just accept that I’m here.” My voice has an edge.
“I’m trying,” she grits out as our eyes stay locked.
“Could’ve fooled me.” I whistle a sound.
Her tongue swipes along her teeth. “Are we just going to go back and forth?”
We both take a moment to sigh, and we collapse into sitting on the floor, completely exhausted from our little tit-for-tat.
Vulnerability kicks in. “I just want to do the right thing. I’ve only ever done what everyone needs.”
She deflates and scoffs to herself. “What a lie. Then, you were only what I needed.”
It surprises me that she admits that, and it twists my stomach. “But you’re what he needed, and in the end, you have a son,” I remind us.
Summer seems to grasp my theory, and she gulps a breath. “Can we just not talk about this anymore?”
“Agreed.” I pick up a large piece of glass. “I’ll clean this up.”
“I can do it.”
Now I have to laugh. “Let’s not go down another spiral of arguing over stupid shit.”
She bobs her head in agreement. “You’re right.”
Our eyes meet for a brief second. “Can I just do what I want to do? I’ll take care of you. I’ll clean this up. Anything else? A leaky pipe. Mowing the grass. There must be something.”
Anything to occupy me from wanting to take care of her in other ways.
Her head tilts slightly to the side. “I mean… I guess the sink does have a drip.”
“I’m on it,” I promise.
The moment that she rolls her shoulder back and seems to ease sends a whoosh of relief down my body. “Actually, I really could use some help…” Her finger twirls in the air. “Babyproofing, the crawling phase will hit us at any moment.”
Reaching out, I touch her wrist. “No problem. I’ll be a pro at it and earn myself another point on the baby-experience scale.”
Her eyes flood with appreciation and proof that I’m chipping away a piece of our wall. Summer nods once before her eyes drop down to soak in the view of my fingers connecting us. After a moment, she begins to teeter up. “Thanks. Uh, if you’re okay with this,” she indicates to the floor, “I’ll go finish some laundry and things. I guess… I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
We both seem to blow out a breath at the same time.
Upstairs,I try to adjust to the fact that I’m in a guest room that has empty drawers and a closet. It’s a nice room, a log cabin meets modern feel with a quilt on the bed. Zac and Summer seem to have good taste in interior design.
Summer kept to her word that she would be busy with Bo, and I’ve heard enough squeals from a baby with the sound of water running to calm any nerves.
But it is a momentary pause, because when the upstairs grows quiet, anxiousness reappears with a vengeance.
Summer’s on the other side of the wall, sleeping, alone in bed, with her heart in pieces. She’s strong, but even warriors need breaks.
Walking, I stop and reach up to plant a palm against the white wall, wondering what she’s like on the other side.
