14. Henry

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

henry

I don’t know how long I lay in Felix’s arms last night, remembering all the shit that happened with Maggie. I still feel so much fucking guilt for convincing her we could do this when I knew she didn’t want it.

She may have wanted me, but I was never enough. I thought for sure a baby would be, but I knew the instant Hazel was born how wrong I was. It didn’t matter, though, because Hazel was mine. From the moment she was born, she was mine, and I can never regret trying to make it work with Maggie.

I still feel like I broke her even more though. I swear she tried. She wanted to want it, but she just couldn’t.

Now I have no idea where she is. If she’s okay. I tell myself I hate her, but I know that’s not true. I want her to be okay. But I don’t know how to help her. I never did.

“What did you do after you had to leave your apartment?”

I rest my face against his wide chest, so warm and inviting, breathing him in when I answer, “If it would have just been me, I’d have slept on the street and saved up some money. But with Hazel, I couldn’t do that. So, we went to a shelter. The first of a few.”

He strokes his hand over my hair. I want so badly just to close my eyes and stay like this. But in the back of my mind, I know how dangerous this is. I can feel myself falling, and I know it’s stupid.

My heart is an idiot.

I can’t risk losing another person. I know that, but still, I don’t pull away.

“That had to be so damn hard.”

“I just wanted Hazel to be okay. I knew Maggie wasn’t. I know she isn’t. For all I know, she’s dead.”

His big arms wrap tighter around me, and I let him. “Have you tried to look for her?”

“No. You don’t find Maggie. She finds you. And since we were evicted, I’m not sure how she would. I don’t think she’ll want to.” I pull back enough so I can look up and into his intense eyes. “I saw it in her eyes, Felix.”

“Saw what?” he asks quietly, and I feel transfixed by his eyes and his plush lips. For a moment, I want to forget talking and just lean in and taste him, but it wouldn’t be fair to him. Felix is good.

God, I don’t want my mess to touch him.

“The emptiness.”

His eyes widen. “It was the drugs.”

I shake my head. “No. When she saw Hazel, there was nothing there. Nothing. She’s been through hell her entire life. I thought maybe if we were a family, she’d feel complete, but it somehow did the opposite to her.” My stomach lurches, and I feel like I might throw up, but I need him to know what kind of person I am. “I did that to her. I made her go through with it.”

“No.”

I start to argue, but his eyes hold me in a trance, and his voice is firm. “No. She wanted to want it. She wanted you.”

“Not enough,” I say, pain ripping through my insides because I know it’s true. I was never enough for her or my parents. Never enough for anyone.

“Some people just can’t, Henry.” I look into his eyes and see so much more than I think he even realizes. How he can think he’s not good enough for anyone—like the super smart artist—is beyond me. Anyone would be lucky to have Felix.

“I’ve never met anyone who could.”

He nods his head, and the movement makes his forehead drag over mine. Our noses brush, and God, I just want to feel something other than bad. But the last time I did that, I wrecked Maggie’s entire world. “Can I ask you something?” he asks so quietly I almost miss it.

“Yes.”

“You said you hooked up with people.” It’s not a question, not outright. But I know what he’s asking me. And I don’t think I can lie to him.

“Occasionally. When I wanted the pain to stop. But it felt like I was cheating on her somehow. Even when we weren’t together.”

“But you said people,” he hedges cautiously.

“Yes,” I say, our noses touching, and I can feel his breath fan over my lips.

“So, you’re . . .”

“Bi,” I answer so he doesn’t have to ask. “Yeah. I’ve been attracted to men and women, but it was all poisoned, tainted by Maggie. Because she was always in the back of my mind.” I have to be honest with him. He needs to know how broken I am, that Maggie has owned me since we were kids.

His lips brush over mine, and I feel that same electricity spike I felt when he did it earlier. I gasp slightly, but when he pulls back, I follow him.

Maggie is nowhere on my mind because all I feel is Felix. His plump lips against mine, my fingers curling in his soft hair. I kiss him hard, but it’s still not enough. He moves forward, his hand on the back of my neck as he kisses me back. When his tongue runs over the seam of my mouth, I open for him.

Our groans mix as our tongues tangle, his sweeping over mine, exploring. Our bodies are flush against each other now, and I can feel how turned-on he is as his hardened shaft brushes against the evidence of my own arousal. It feels so damn good. Too good.

If my daughter’s sharp cry wouldn’t have broken us apart, I’m not sure where the kiss would have led, but we both jump up. He sits on the edge of the bed, watching me with a fierce intensity as I walk to Hazel’s crib.

I try to calm my libido and take a deep breath, letting her know I’m here. My body regains control, and I clear my throat, softening my voice. “I’m here, sweetie. It’s okay.”

I reach into the crib and pick her up, soothing her when I look over at Felix. I’m terrified I’ll see him leaving, that he can’t deal with this and has come to his senses.

But he’s just watching us, his finger absently brushing over his swollen bottom lip, where I kissed him so damn hard and with so much passion, I couldn’t breathe.

He sends me a sweet smile and stands up, my heart rate ticking up with fear as he approaches.

This is it.

Where he tells me that kiss was good but not good enough. That he’s young, and he just wants easy hookups that aren’t interrupted by a child screaming.

But he doesn’t say any of those things.

He just sweeps a hand over Hazel’s hair and looks at my daughter with a sweet, caring gaze that nearly cracks my heart apart. “I’ll go get you another bottle, sweet girl.”

He leans in and gives my lips a quick, yet sweet kiss on the lips, leaving me with a smile as he goes to the kitchen to make her a bottle, and I stare down at a now-calm Hazel in my arms.

I sit down on the edge of the bed with her, and I try like hell not to hope, not to fall for it. Because as great as Felix is, and as much as he seems to care about my daughter and me, all too soon it’ll become too much.

I can’t have this.

I know that deep down, and I need to keep reminding myself of that.

Because the only thing worse than being alone is the hope that someday you might not be.