Mended Affections (The Affections Series Book 2) (5 page)

"All right well, at least you smell better," Riley says, while scrunching her nose.

"Stop, Riley, she's going with you. Don't give her a hard time," Striker says, in my defense.

"Oh Christ, Striker, I'm just joking with her. Lighten up would you? You were so much more fun when I didn't know your name." Riley's tone is teasing, as she walks toward the door and grabs her purse from the counter. "Ready?"

Striker tenses at her statement and walks toward his room. I know he is still embarrassed about their past, but it's just that, the past. Riley, however, loves to give him a hard time about it since she gets a reaction from him.

"I guess so, even though I'm a little afraid of where you're taking me." I follow after her.

As we exit the house, we're greeted with the orange glow from the pending sunset. Light clouds float in the sky, amongst the soft glow, adding an array of beautiful colors that create a sense of peace, something I don't normally feel anymore. I don't even remember the last time I saw a sunset. Its beauty is something that I have always enjoyed. Maybe this is a sign that I will have a good evening out with Riley. Things just feel right.

Once we are in the car and on the main road, Riley finally speaks. "I know you're probably a little worried about where we are going, but I just want you to know that if you trust me, this will be the start of an amazing thing in your life."

I look over at her. "Oh yeah, amazing? I don't think I'm allowed to have amazing, Ri."

Her right hand leaves the steering wheel and reaches over to land on my shoulder. "I always thought the same for myself, but after tonight I hope you change your mind. I know you'll be skeptical at first, but so was I. We all are, but it changed my life. I'm a better person and mother because I didn't give up and gave this a chance."

"Now you're scaring me," I chuckle.

"There's nothing to be afraid of. If I can stop fucking the world, then you can learn to live again. Sometimes, we just need to see that we're not alone and that there's help for us." Riley finishes speaking as we pull into a parking spot, in front of a brick building.

I lean forward, looking out the windshield. My heart starts to accelerate, as the possibilities of where we are race through me head. "Where did you bring me, Riley?"

"Why don't we go inside and find out?" Riley asks.

I'm rooted in my seat. I'm feeling very anxious about walking into this building. "I don't think I can. Please just tell me. I just need to prepare myself. I'm starting to panic."

Riley exits the car, walks around, and opens my door. "Listen, I know you have a therapist. So do I, but I really started doing better meeting with a group of people, who were going through the same things as me. It's group therapy, Rea, and I think if you just try it, it may help knowing others are going through what you are."

Turning in my seat, I look up at her. "Others are going through what I am, Riley. My family. I don't need to talk about my problems with a group of strangers."

She shakes her head. "No, they are not going through the same thing as you. You lost your life long best friend."

My voice rises, "So did Striker!"

"But Striker did not spend every day of his life with Dalton, did he? He didn't marry him and have Dalton's children." Riley's voice rises to match mine.

I can't tell if I'm angry or upset. What am I mad about? Is it the fact that she brought me to talk about my problems amongst a group of strangers, or the fact that she's down playing the pain others feel, like I'm grieving more than them. "What about the boys? They lost their father."

Riley squats in front of me, until we are eye level with one another. "I know. I'm not saying that they aren't sad or hurting from the loss. I'm just saying that their loss is different than yours. You lost your partner in life Rea, your other half. Dalton was your life. When your children went to bed at night, you crawled into bed next to Dalton. You would get up early to have coffee together, before the boys came down for breakfast in the morning. Why is that, Rea? He didn't do that with anyone else living in your house, but he did it with you."

"No, he spent time alone with each of the boys." My head shakes slowly side to side, as tears build in my eyes.

"Every day? Did he carve time out of every day, to spend special moments with each one? He was a great father. That's not of question, but you were his spouse. You were his sole purpose in life. His children would have grown up and left him, but you were his forever."

Tears are streaming down my cheeks now, dripping one after another onto my pant legs.

Riley knows how heartbroken I am but continues anyway. "Forever, Rea. Those were the plans the two of you made, and it was ripped away from you, but your life is not over. I just want you to try and learn to move past the devastation from it. You will always feel the pain, I know, but there is still so much left to your life. Live it to its fullest. If not for anyone else, do it for your boys, please."

I know she is right. I don't want to cause my children more pain than what they are feeling now. I want to help them live a normal, fulfilling life. One full of all the happiness they deserve, but I'm broken. How can we live in a happy home, if it's full of sadness and pain?

I pull myself from the car, looking down at my tear soaked sweats. "Let's go then. I'd really like to go in with tears on my face, so people don't think I peed myself."

Riley laughs, stands, and wraps her arms around me. "I love you, Rea. This will be good for you, I promise."

She pulls away from me, cupping my hand in hers, giving it a squeeze before we head toward the building.

"You'll stay with me tonight?" I ask, a little afraid that she will just show me to the room, and then wait for me outside.

She stops, turns in my direction, and places her hands on my shoulders. "I'm here. Whatever you need, I'm here."

Striker

Wait. It's all I seem to do. I wait. Rea is improving every day, immersing herself in caring for the boys. Some days she even smiles. However, our relationship has dwindled. We used to talk, hug, and hold hands to support one another. I find myself missing her touch. It seems like she avoids me now. I will wait for the day, when she has worked through things, and wants to confide in me again. I'm just not what she needs right now.

Thanksgiving is this week, and Reagan has been going to group therapy for about two months now. Riley said she found a group that meets, solely for widowed women. Reagan will not talk to me about her meetings, but I can tell they are helping. Just the other day, she mentioned being bored and needing time out of the house. That's a major step for her. I would never say anything, but even before Dalton's death, the poor woman had no life outside the home besides Riley. She seemed happy about staying home, but when all you have in your life resides within four walls, it's hard to bounce back from a catastrophe like she’s experienced.

Today I decided to hunt. Clear my head. The cold early morning air mixes with my warm breath, making it visible every time I exhale.  The frozen ground is crunching beneath my feet, making it damn near impossible to enter the woods quietly.

It's still dark, and the peace and serenity of the woods surrounds me. There's nothing like this; becoming one with nature, while also having the opportunity to show my manliness at top of the food chain.

Today is even more special, because Dylan's soft footsteps are following behind me. It's our first trip out here together. He's actually really good at this quiet thing. Hopefully we get to our buddy stand without making too much noise or leaving our scent behind. I come to a stop and turn to speak with Dyl.

In a whisper, I say, "The stand is just right over there. You can go up the ladder first."

He responds by nodding his head.

Once we climb into the stand and settle next to one another, I place a hook into the tree to hang our guns. We lean back, get comfortable, and begin the wait. We sit still and motionless, letting the sound of the woods blanket over us. It's so quiet you can hear leaves nestling to the ground. There is a pair of squirrels running through the tree branches, close to where we are seated, and we go unnoticed. This is perfect. This brings me peace, which is something I have to fight with myself for these days.

My heart is stretched and bent in a way that I can't even describe. I thought losing Dalton would be the toughest thing I would be going through, but it's not even close. Knowing how badly you need someone to be your friend, at the very least, and have them push you away; when everything you do is for them, it hurts. I've been here for Reagan, at every turn. When she couldn't drag herself from bed, I took care of the boys. I even took over Reagan's job with the construction company, and am running it to this day, so she can work through her all her shit.

I would do it, no matter what, because I love her and the boys. I just wish she wasn't pushing me away, but she is and there's nothing I can do about it, so I treasure my time with the boys. Without them, I have nothing left. Maybe my aunt, but I can't think about that mess. I still haven't talked to Reagan about the chat we had at lunch. She hasn't asked, so I haven't said. When she's ready to know, she'll have to ask me about it.

I have been speaking with my aunt on a regular basis. I don't know what's changed her way of thinking, but I hope it's not too late for her to know her grandchildren. Maybe they can help her heal; find some peace with the tie that they create with Reagan's family. Once Aunt Becky and Reagan fix the broken mess that is their relationship, then I'll tell my aunt that Dylan is my biological son.

I turn my head slowly and look down at him. He turns to meet my stare and smiles up at me, like this is the best day of his life. I've missed so much with him, but I try to occupy as much of his time as I can. He’s an amazing kid and will be one hell of a man one day. His head snaps back to look straight ahead into the woods. As I turn to see what he's looking at, the sound of a branch snapping resonates through the silence of the woods, and then there it is. A huge buck stands about a hundred yards away.

My heart rate spikes immediately. This thing is huge and I would love to take a shot at it, but Dylan would die if he got his first trophy buck today. I turn to Dylan again and nod to him, letting him know that he'll take the shot. I quietly grab his gun from the hook and hand it to him. His hands are shaking with excitement as he readies himself for the shot. My heart pounds in my ears as I watch my son; it's just as great of a feeling as if I were the one holding the gun myself.

He's still too worked up and rattled. He won't make the shot like that. I place my hand on his shoulder and he turns only his head to see me. I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, exaggerating my movements, so he knows I want him to do the same. He follows my instruction and his hands begin to settle. I look back out to where the buck is standing. He has moved away, just a little, but is still definitely within range.

I count to myself, just as I would if I were the one sitting in Dylan's position. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five; before I get any further, the sound of the shot rings through the woods. My body jumps slightly in response to the noise, and so does the buck's, but for a completely different reason. Dylan hits him in the perfect place, right behind the shoulder. He begins to run for just a moment before collapsing to the ground.

The adrenaline, which has been coursing through my veins, begins to settle and I can't help but shake. "You got him, Dyl!"

He begins to laugh and cry all at once, as the emotions of his first kill wash over him. There's so much that you feel, and for a kid his age, it's got to be hard to handle. "I di..did it. Oh my gosh. He was huge!"

I take his gun from him and wrap him in a tight hug. I can feel his entire body tremble. "That was awesome, man! What a perfect shot."

"Is this normal? Why am I shaking like this?" he asks, as he pulls away and looks down at his hands.

I place my hand on his head and give it a little shake. "It's completely normal. It's all the adrenaline, bud. It'll stop soon. It's one of the greatest feelings, isn't it?"

He nods his head yes, in exaggerated motions. "Yes, oh my gosh. I can't believe I got him. This is awesome."

"Come on, man, let's head down and take a look at him," I say.

We make our way down from the stand, and I follow behind Dylan. His step is lighter, and there is joy present in his stride, as he bounces on his feet as he walks. He is so full of excitement, he can't contain it. He hasn't had a day like this yet, since Dalton died. Shit, neither have I. I'm so glad he came along today. We needed this. I look up to the sky with a smile on my face and feel him.

Dalton is present with us in this moment. I can hear his voice now, telling his son how proud he is of him. How great he did on his first kill, and that this one is going on a wall in the house.

It's almost like Dylan can feel it also. When he stops, with the buck at his feet, he looks up to the sky, too. I notice the big smile on his face, but his eyes show a different emotion. Several tears escape his eyes, leaving a wet path as they travel down his cheeks.

"He would have loved to have been here for this," he says.

I walk up and wrap my arm around his shoulder. "I know, but I kinda feel like he is."

"Yeah, me too." Dylan kneels next to the buck. "He's huge, Dad! Look at his rack. This has to be the best day of my life."

I laugh and kneel next to him. He's been calling me Dad for a few months now, but it always does something to me when I hear it. After all the loss I've been through, he brings me hope. His resilience is amazing. Looking at him I confirm, "This is one of the best days of mine, too. Thanks for coming today, bud. I needed this."

The tears have stopped and his excitement has escalated again. Jumping to his feet, "Well, what do we do next?"

We field dressed the deer where he fell, which earned a lot of gagging noises from Dyl, but hell you kill it, you clean it. I think we took enough pictures of him with it to cover an entire wall. The smile of his face was something that I’ve missed, so I couldn't help myself.

As we drag it back to the car, he goes on and on about showing his brothers and mom. I'm not ready to go back yet though. I love this feeling of belonging. I don't have to question where I fit in with the boys. Once we head home, I'm back on eggshells, wondering how to act around Rea. I'll still be excited for Dylan to share his story, but I'll be off in the shadows keeping my distance, so I don't spook his mother. She's been doing really well since she put some distance between us, and I can't bring myself to interrupt her progress for my own selfish reasons.

*****

The kitchen is filled with chatter and laughter as Dylan tells his story. I stand off to the side, leaning against the counter near the sink, while the four of them surround the island. Reagan is smiling. She watches the boys as the three of them passionately talk about hunting and Dylan's recent kill. I couldn't be more proud of him, but standing here, sipping on my bottle of water, I can't help but feel out of place. I don't want to lose the happiness that today has brought me. I want to keep this feeling around for a while. I need to get out for a bit.

While they’re caught up in their storytelling, I slowly slip out of the kitchen and make my way down the hall to my room. Fuck, I don't know what's worse. Watching her curled up in bed, or watching her be happy as she cuts me out of her life.  Maybe I need to go back to how things were before I returned here. Her heart is still and will always be with Dalton. I can't change that. I'll always love her completely. I'm not sure I'll ever find that type of love again, or if I even want to.

Suddenly feeling lonely and frustrated with how life is going, I decide to hit the bar. I want the touch of a woman; it's been so long, I can't even remember the pleasure of it. Shit, I need more than just the physical. I want a woman to look me in the eyes, and take interest in holding a conversation with me, not turn their back every time I walk into a room.

Feeling frustrated and angry, all signs of today's happiness fade away. My room is not small, but I feel like the walls are closing in. If she wants to cut me out, fuck, I'll just go back to living my life. I can't sit here in hopes that things will change. I quickly shower, get dressed, and head to my truck. Once I pull out of the driveway, I realize it's only early afternoon and a weekday. Who in the hell will be in a bar this early?

Settling with grabbing a few drinks alone, I pull into the bar parking lot. There are three other cars parked here besides mine. I guess being alone, in an empty bar, is better than feeling alone in a house full of people. Deciding to embrace the quiet, I hop out of my truck and head for the door.

The stool scrapes across the floor as I slide it out to take a seat at the bar. The bartender's back is to me, so I decide to wait until she sees me and not holler across the room. Her hair is blonde and halfway down her back. She shifts slightly on her feet as she organizes the bottles on the shelf.

I don't remember her from before. When I frequented this place, only men stood behind the counter. I take a quick look around the place and decide I'm glad she's here. The only other people to talk to in this place could be my grandfather.

"Hey, sweetheart, can I get a beer?" I say.

She jumps slightly, and turns, walking in my direction. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you came in. What can I get for ya?"

"I'll take a Heineken." Looking at her, I can't help but feel like she looks familiar.

She leans down into the cooler, grabs my beer, and rests it on the edge of the bar. Reaching into her back pocket, she slides out a bottle opener and pops the top off, before sliding the bottle across to me.  She looks up to me and leans down to rest her elbows on the bar. "You don't remember me, do you?"

Great, just when I needed to escape life, I run into someone from the past. Her face is expressionless, giving nothing away. "I'm sorry, I wish I could say that I did, but honestly you don't look familiar."

"Well, last time I saw you here, I was on the other side of this bar, and you pretty much called me a slut." Her eyebrow rises as she finishes her statement.

Shit, she's the girl from the night Rea and I came out, and played that lame ass game of truth or dare. Why does everything come back to haunt me?

"Well, aren't you going to apologize?" she asks.

Reaching for my beer, I take a sip then answer. "I'm still trying to piece the night together, but if I offended you, then I'm sorry. If I remember correctly though, I was trying to make you realize how easy you were being, and I was pointing it out for your best interest."

Reaching her hand across the bar, "Well, thank you, I'm Kelsie."

Taking her small hand in mine, I give it a slight shake. "What exactly are you thanking me for?"

Kelsie grabs a rag and begins to wipe down the counter. "For being so harsh with me that night. It made me realize how strangers viewed my actions. I won't get into the gritty details of my life, but I wish I would have changed my ways sooner."