Picking Up the Pieces (9 page)

Chapter 11: Lily

What was that look? Was he confused? Was he happy to see me? He didn’t
look
happy. I couldn’t describe what I saw on Adam’s face when his gaze caught mine as I’d entered my car.

Though I’m not sure why, I hadn’t expected Adam to realize I’d even been there.
As I stood in line, I’d glanced behind me to see him reading the paper alone. I’d been overcome with the urge to sit down across from him. To be staring into his bright green eyes like it was seven months ago and our lives together were in our future instead of in our past.

But I couldn’t do that.
He'd never allow it. Not after what I’d done to him. So I did the only thing I could do for him in that moment: I’d bought him a cup of coffee.

And now that he knew it'd been me who'd bought it for him, I didn’t exactly know how I felt about it.
Wait . . . that’s not true. I know exactly how I feel about it: like an asshole, that’s how.
As I pulled into my space at work, I shook my head and silently scolded myself for thinking I could become some stealthy coffee Robin Hood, doling out java to all of those I’d wronged.

Note to self: avoid the coffeehouse for a few weeks.

***

Work passed rather quickly, and I knew that later that day I’d have the luxury of focusing on someone else’s problems instead of my own
, namely Amanda’s problem with coming to terms with her feelings for Shane.

Scratch that. Maybe Amanda's problem was
my
problem too. She burst through the door at 5:30, clearly irritated I was dragging her to CrossFit that night. She tried to recover by putting on a brave face and remaining stoic as she changed for the gym. “Ready to go,” she nearly sang, plastering a fake smile across her face as she headed for the door.

I followed her out
, donning a grin that I hoped mirrored hers to show her how ridiculous she looked. For someone with such a hard exterior, Amanda could be so damn transparent sometimes. After she’d called me last Sunday morning to “rescue” her from her night at Shane’s, she’d spent the remainder of the week freaking out. She couldn’t handle her feelings for him, so she’d run. And as far as I could tell, she was content to keep running.

But last night, I’d finally
called her out on avoiding him, which she denied. In an effort to prove that she didn’t have real feelings for Shane, she’d agreed to go to CrossFit, a place she’d been trying to avoid like some sort of airborne STD for the past four days.

Though, the thing I should have remembered about Amanda was that, when she felt backed into a corner, she came at you like a pitbull.
So when Shane pulled her into his office for an airing out of their bullshit, she fought back in the most effective way possible: she said whatever she thought would hurt him the most with complete indifference.

From my protective perch a few feet away from the office door, I’d been too busy sending threatening glares to the nosy CrossFitters to thoroughly eavesdrop.
But what I did hear made me cringe. She denied all feelings for him. Denied all connection. He put himself out there for her, and she trounced all over every ounce of his ego. It was . . . terrible.

And as I watched her storm out of his office, I knew I was looking at a facade
—a protective mask that she’d adorned to aid in her escape from Shane. But the thing about a mask is, it doesn’t cover the eyes. And that’s where I saw it: regret. Her eyes swam with it. So I followed her silently back out to my car, knowing that I was in for one hell of a ride home.

It wasn’t until we pulled away from CrossFit that Amanda finally let go of all the tears she’d been holding back for the last week.
As much as I wanted to talk to her, I couldn’t bring myself to try. What could I say that would make her feel better? That she was an idiot for running? That she should accept her feelings for what they were instead of pretending she felt nothing?

Over the past few months, she’d been hanging out with Shane more frequently.
I could see their relationship slowly progressing from a friendship to something more intimate, especially over the past few weeks. I knew they had kissed after the pool hall, but I didn’t know anything more had happened until she had called me from his house the morning after the wedding they’d gone to together. Though she would never admit it, Shane was perfect for her. He was witty, playful, kind, and smoking hot. Ultimately, he was a male version of Amanda, minus the intense fear of commitment.

W
hy did she have to be so dense; so blind to what the rest of us could see? She could claim they were just friends all she wanted—that theirs was nothing more than a platonic relationship that had gone a step too far. I knew all about taking a friendship where it should never go. And while I would never make that mistake again, Amanda's situation wasn't the same.

Because I realized what Amanda didn’t. She loved him.
She had to. Because your heart doesn’t break like that for someone you don’t love. I knew what it was like to lose someone you loved when it could have been prevented. It was the kind of pain that could even reduce a ball buster like Amanda to tears. And my heart hurt with a familiar ache just watching her experience it.

***

I tried to leave Amanda alone most of the weekend in the hopes that by getting a little space she would come to her senses and talk to Shane. But by Tuesday afternoon she’d already joined a new gym.
So much for coming to her senses.

I’d been so preoccupied with making sure she didn’t hang herself with the cord of her hair straightener that I hadn’t even thought about my “encounter” with Adam.

              Until Wednesday morning, that is.

Chapter 12: Adam

“Eva, you ready?” I walked toward the front door, not waiting for her to reply. I stood there, trying to force patience into my countenance. It was nearly friggin’ impossible.

Finally, she bounded down the stairs and eyed me suspiciously.
“Why are you standing there like that?”

“Like what?
I’m just waiting for you.” My eyes narrowed in confusion.
Why am I answering to my thirteen-year-old daughter?

“Waiting for me, why?”

“So I can have you help me drag a body from my trunk,” I said with an eye roll. “So I can take you to school. Why else?”

Eva checked her phone and then looked back at me as if trying to fit pieces of a puzzle together, but no matter how she spun them, they just didn’t fit.
“I haven’t missed the bus. Why are you driving me?”

“I thought I’d be nice and drop you off.
Am I not allowed to do something nice for you?” The look on her face let me know she wasn’t buying it. The truth was, I didn’t offer her the ride to be nice. I did it in the off chance that I’d get to see Lily. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was going to do when I did see her, but I’d figure all that out when the time came. “Fine,” I sighed. “I read a story in the newspaper about a bus driver who kidnapped one of the students on his route and held her hostage for three weeks before they found her. She’s so traumatized that she hasn’t spoken in four months. I guess the story makes me a little nervous about you riding the bus.”

Her eyes narrowed.
“Are you going to pick me up in the afternoon too?”

Shit.
“No.”

“Why not?”
She put a hand to her hip and awaited my response.
When had she become so skeptical?

“Because I don’t view sixty-year-old Doris Callahan
as much of a threat to your safety. Can we go now, please?” Thank the Lord her afternoon driver was a female. Otherwise I would've been totally fucked.

Eva’s face softened and she dropped her hand from her hip.
She started toward the door, but stopped in front of me, suddenly wrapping her arms around my torso.

“Thanks, Daddy.”

I hugged her back firmly and dropped my cheek to the top of her head. “Anytime, baby. It’s my job to keep you safe.”
I am really going to burn in hell for this one.

Eva pulled away, bounced out the door, and got in the car.
As I locked the house, I hoped that, however things played out with Lily, it was worth lying my ass off to my daughter.

***

Eva had actually kissed me on the cheek before exiting the car and making her way into the school building. I should’ve felt disappointed in myself for getting her affection in such a devious manner, but I was eating it up. The way I saw it, this was retroactive payment for all the things I had done for her over the past thirteen years that I hadn’t gotten a shred of appreciation for. Like talking to her about her period. I was
definitely
owed for that one.

But Eva had left the car five minutes ago and I was still at the end of the driveway leading up to Swift Middle School.
I had scanned the teacher parking lot and didn’t see Lily’s car.
She’s probably running late, as usual.
Why I was still sitting there though, I didn’t know. I just couldn’t bring myself to pull away. So, instead, I sat there like a third-rate stalker hoping to catch a glimpse of a woman I wasn’t even sure I liked.

             
Then I saw her. I had somehow missed her pull in, but I hadn't missed her walking toward the school. And as soon as I caught sight of her soft, brown hair blowing gently in the wind, the confidence of her gait, and the cool collectedness on her face, I knew why I was still sitting there. I damn well did like her. Maybe even loved her. And I had about fifteen seconds to determine what to do about it before she stepped into the building and I lost my chance to do anything.

             
“Fuck it,” I muttered as I threw my car in gear and drove toward the school entrance. She was approaching the front doors, and I felt my opportunity slipping away. I racked my brain for something to say, but nothing came. Finally, I just said anything. “Thanks!” I yelled as I leapt from my car, not even bothering to close my door. I watched her jerk to a stop, but she didn’t turn around.
Does she not recognize my voice?
I immediately realized what a stupid question that was. It was
because
she knew it was me that her body was so tense. Maybe this had been a mistake.

             
“Uh . . . Lily, I just wanted to say thanks for the coffee.” I stood there, waiting for her to turn around and acknowledge me in any way. Christ, this had
definitely
been a mistake.

             
Finally, after what felt like hours, she turned around to face me. I watched as her eyes looked me over, and I prayed that she liked what she saw. “Hi,” she ground out, clearly at a loss for anything else to say.

             
I felt my eyes widen, waiting for her to continue. This shouldn’t feel so awkward. At least not for me. She was the one who had cheated.
She
was the one who had betrayed
me
. Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that both of us owed something to the other. Though I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out what I could possibly owe
her
.

             
When she didn’t speak, I felt the urge to clarify, if for no other reason than to end this debacle as soon as possible. “The coffee the other day . . . I just wanted to say thank you.” I was clearly on the verge of setting some sort of record for repeating myself.
Come on, Carter; get your head out of your ass.

             
I noticed her lips lift slightly before spreading into a small laugh. “Yeah, you said that already. And you’re welcome, by the way.”

             
I thought that her silence had been weird, but hearing her speak to me was even more disconcerting. Not to mention that she had just called me out on my redundancy, thereby highlighting my awkwardness. “It surprised me, that’s all.” At some point today, my brain would catch up to my mouth and prevent this stupid shit from leaving it. But evidently my mind had not yet reached that point.

             
Confusion lit up her face. “That I’d buy you a cup of coffee?”

             
“No . . . well, yes, that too. But I was more surprised that you knew how I
took
my coffee.” I felt like a teenage girl who harped on the fact that a boy knew her favorite color. But I couldn’t help it. The fact that she knew this small detail meant that she had
wanted
to know it. That she cared enough to pay attention to the subtle idiosyncrasies that only someone who loved you would think to notice.

             
“Black. Two sugars,” she said simply, as though it were information that were obvious to everyone who knew me. It wasn’t. “I’ve always known that, Adam.”

             
It shook me a little to realize how much I loved hearing her say my name—how much I wanted to hear her say it again, preferably in a more intimate setting. She licked her lips and my need to hear her say my name again morphed into a need to hear her scream it as I slid inside her, as I branded her so everyone knew that she was mine.

             
“Well, I should probably get going. I don’t want to be late.”

             
I was tempted to point out that she probably already was, but thankfully my brain caught that comment before my mouth spewed it. So this was it? This was how things ended? Did I want that? Did she? “Right, sorry,” I quickly grumbled, sounding much harsher than I had intended. I softened my voice before I spoke again. “I don’t want you to be late either. I guess I’ll talk to ya later.”

             
The last part slipped out. It was a standard farewell. An easy substitute for goodbye. But with Lily, it held countless possibilities. I could talk to her later. If I wanted to. And as I watched her walk toward the school, my heart ached with how badly I wanted to.

***

Two days. Two torturous days of thinking about her and how fucked up our entire conversation had been. Couldn’t I have played it cool? Just one time? I glanced over at the clock next to my bed. 2:15 AM. I had barely slept the previous night and was having a repeat performance this evening as well.

             
It wouldn’t have been so bad if I could just figure out what the hell I wanted. I shouldn’t want Lily. She had destroyed me. The entire time she was dating me, she was also seeing that cocksucker Max. How could she do that and have genuine feelings for me? It wasn’t like we had been dating for years and the relationship had gone stale. Not that that would have provided a valid excuse for her behavior, but at least then I could’ve understood on some level. But we had only been together a short time. We were still in the honeymoon stage of our relationship, and she had fucked around on me. I couldn’t reconcile
that
Lily with the one I thought I knew. The one I had loved.

             
My
Lily was kind and caring and considerate. She was gentle and sincere. Suddenly, my mind was plagued by the Lily I had known: how her hand fit perfectly in mine. How my arms felt at home when they wrapped around her. How her lips melded to mine in a blissful frenzy whenever we were together.

             
I thought back to the last time I had been with her—how perfect she’d felt when I pushed inside of her. How her soft moans had made me harder than I had ever been in my life. And when her orgasm ripped through her, her pussy had clenched down on my pulsating cock, milking the cum from it in long, bursting squirts. But
as great as that had been, it hadn’t been enough. I’d needed to have her again, but that time, I took her mouth. The thought of that warmth enveloping my hard cock caused my entire body to tingle.

And as I remembered the feel of her tongue swirling over my tip and drinking me dry, I couldn’t stop my dick from hardening at the thought. Involuntarily, my hand drifted under the covers, grabbed tightly and tugged with long, hard strokes.
As I continued to work myself, I let my mind wander. To think about how, after she had sated me with that delicious mouth, I had wanted to return the favor. To show her that our relationship was about give and take. I gripped my shaft harder, pulling faster as my mind replayed the images of my fingers having their way with her body, thrusting inside of her until she came all over them. I remembered telling her we needed to go on a vacation so that I could touch her for an entire weekend without interruption. It was that memory that caused my orgasm to come barreling down my spine. That image—of touching her like she belonged to me—that caused me to finally explode, catching the hot bursts of semen in my hand.

             
It was in that moment that I knew the truth. She couldn’t have faked that passion. She couldn’t have feigned the physical reaction she had to me.
Holy fuck. She had loved me.

***

I woke up the next morning feeling lighter than I had in months. My relationship with Lily hadn’t
all
been bullshit. We had felt very real things during our time together—things that had stuck with me throughout the last however many months, no matter how much I tried to deny their existence. The only question I was left with was just how much of our relationship
had
been bullshit. And as I swung my legs over the edge of my bed and ran a hand through my rumpled hair, I decided it was time to find out.

***

I sat at my computer screen, my email open, and the cursor blinking. This had seemed like such a great idea three hours ago. But now that I was faced with the task of following through with my plan, it seemed less appealing.

             
Already having drafted and deleted five emails to Lily, I was beginning to get frustrated. I was supposed to be reviewing our budget for our current project, but I couldn’t focus on numbers right now. Well, there was one number I was able to focus on, but I had sworn to myself that I wasn’t going to use it.
I had barely been able to hold a conversation with her when I had a clear purpose for doing so. There was no way I’d be able to sustain idle chitchat. So I had opted for an email instead. But there was so much to consider. Did I try and be funny? Did I immediately get to the heart of the matter? Did I ask some random, mundane question about the school? I grew more and more frantic as the minutes ticked by.

             
Finally, with my new motto of “Fuck it” ringing in my head, I began typing again. This time, I just let my fingers do the talking and hoped for the best. Once finished, I previewed what I had written.

Hi Lily,

It’s Adam. I just wanted to say that it was good seeing you yesterday. And, in the spirit of paying it forward (or in this case, paying it back), I wanted to get you a cup of coffee as well. So here ya go. One caramel macchiato. Enjoy.