So maybe I couldn’t help but express to her a little the way he made me feel. The same way she did. Whole. Complete. Like there really was something worth living for. Fighting for.
I’d been a fool to let it go.
Wasn’t going to repeat that same mistake again.
Her teeth were back to roughing up that bottom lip. “He is, isn’t he?”
Emotion pressed between us. A circuit sparking. Awareness coming to life.
I peered over to where Mom was situating Everett at the tiny table that she’d set up for me and Frankie behind the far end of the counter all those years ago, where we’d share our after-school snacks and laugh and color and draw up our dreams.
Mom had broken up little bits of egg, sausage, and biscuit, and Everett was trying to pinch the pieces between his fingers and get them into his mouth.
All of it appeared so simple.
So right.
Still so fucking terrifying because I didn’t know how long I was going to get to keep my son in my life this way. If things were going to shift and get shaken or if this fucking threat was real.
If I was going to lose all over again.
All I knew was I was going to fight, and I wanted to do it with Frankie at my side.
Friends or as a lover or whatever it had to be.
I just . . . needed her.
Needed her in my life.
Was tired of breathing without her.
Everything was better with a little Frankie Leigh.
“Mom?”
Mom looked back over her shoulder. “You mind keeping an eye on him for a second? Need to talk to Frankie.”
Her eyes flitted between the two of us.
I wondered how much she knew. If it was plain as day to everyone else as it was to me. That this was just meant to be. “Sure. Of course.”
Frankie frowned in worry, hesitating, then said, “I’ll be right back. Let me know if you guys get busy.”
I followed Frankie through the door and into the kitchen.
She stood facing away, the potent aura of this girl rippling into the space.
“Frankie.” I touched her shoulder, let my hand glide down her arm, begging her to turn around. “Please. Look at me. I need to hear you.”
Words were gravel. Hard and pained. The plea I’d made before she’d taken off Saturday night suddenly there, a barrier standing like a fortress between us.
“I love you, Frankie. Tell me you still love me, too.”
Shivers raced her flesh, and Frankie slowly turned around. Cinnamon eyes flashed, affection and fear roiling all the way down deep in the depths.
I couldn’t do anything but reach out and touch her face. Set my hand on her cheek. Run the pad of my thumb across her trembling lips.
She sighed with the action, her heat speeding up my arm and spreading across my skin.
“Hey, Unicorn Girl,” I murmured.
The tears she’d been holding back suddenly fell. “Evan.”
“Hey, please don’t cry,” I whispered. “I didn’t come here to upset you.”
“I know you didn’t,” she whispered back. She blinked a bunch of times. “But that doesn’t just erase what you did. And you keep coming back here . . . pushing into my life . . . and I don’t know how to handle it,” she admitted.
I wanted to kiss away every tear. Promise her that I would make everything better. Hold all her fears and her pain the way she’d always held mine.
Be the man she deserved for me to be.
But I had to prove it.
“Frankie,” I murmured. “Unicorn Girl. I never wanted to be the one to steal your sparkle.”
I let a tiny bit of tease fill the last. This girl who’d basically bathed in glitter and color and capped it off with ridiculous outfits.
Affection and grief crested her features, and I kept brushing my thumbs over the soft skin of her cheeks. “I think that sparkle just shined brighter when you were in my life, Evan. That’s the whole problem.”
“I never should have gone.”
“No.”
I pulled my hands away so I could sign, so I could speak to her the way that I knew best. I’M GOING TO PROVE TO YOU THAT I UNDERSTAND THAT, FRANKIE. THAT I KNOW THAT I DID IT ALL WRONG. I’M GOING TO PROVE TO YOU THAT YOU CAN TRUST ME TO STAY.
I angled in closer, needing her to know. MIGHT TAKE SOME TIME. A WEEK OR MONTH OR YEAR OR MY ENTIRE GODDAMN LIFE. BUT I’M WILLING TO PUT IN THAT TIME BECAUSE YOU ARE WORTH EVERY SINGLE