At Any Moment (Gaming The System Book 3) (36 page)

“It’s complicated.”

“It usually is.”

I let out a long breath and then changed lanes again. Not such a great idea. Some jerk-off honked at me and Jordan sent the driver his middle finger.

“Jesus, you’re gonna start a road rage incident. Put that thing away.”

“So how is it more complicated than any other relationship out there?”

“We have…issues.”

“What issues do you have with Mia?”

“Oh, so you like her all of a sudden, huh?”

He shrugged. “I think she’s a nice girl.”

“She is a nice girl.” A nice girl with a lot of problems.

“So what’s the deal? Is there, like, someone else? Did you fuck around on her? Don’t tell me it was Carisa, because—”

“I didn’t cheat on her.”

“Well?”

“We’re taking a little time off from each other. We have some shit to deal with.”

“And you’re not going to tell me what it is.”

“I would, if I thought you’d take it seriously and not be an ass about it.”

He pulled off his sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt. “Do I look like I’m going to stab you in the back?”

I swallowed. “No.”

“Lay it on me. What happened?”

“I don’t trust her.”

“She fucked around on you?”

“God, nobody fucked around on anybody. Let me just get it out, okay?”

He held up a hand as if to stave off my irritation. “Okay, okay.”

“We broke up because—well, because of stupid shit, really. But while we were broken up, she found out about the cancer and didn’t tell me.”

“Okay.”

“And then in Vegas—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know all about what happened with you and her in Vegas.”

“I have no idea how you know that and it’s kind of creepy. However, what you don’t know is that she got pregnant.”

There was a long silence from the other side of the car. I focused on the traffic and when I finally glanced over at him, he looked pale. He reached into his pocket, grabbed his sunglasses and stuck them back on his face.

“I think I can guess what happened since she has just gone through chemo and is obviously no longer pregnant. That’s uh… that’s some heavy shit.”

I didn’t answer. The silence lasted for a few more miles—which took almost a half hour in this damn traffic. Finally Jordan cleared his throat. “So you said you don’t trust her. This must mean you blame her for it…and if that’s—”

“I don’t blame her. But yeah, I don’t trust her. It’s more…general. I don’t trust that she’s not going to shred me again. That she doesn’t believe in this enough to—”

He laughed—
laughed—
at me. “Damn, Adam, that’s such a pussy thing to say.”

I clenched my jaw, gripped the steering wheel and ran my mind over the last few things I’d just said. “Adam’s afwaid he’s gonna get huwt. Poow widdle Adam.”

“Do you need me to let you out here? I think you can thumb a ride home with a serial killer or something,” I ground out.

“I don’t mean to be a dick but—”

“Too late—”

“You need to sac up, dude. Whenever you put yourself in a serious relationship, you run the risk of getting hurt. It’s how it works.”

“But usually you trust the other person not to do it.”

He shrugged. “Yeah. And what makes you think she will? Because of last time? You mean when she was scared out of her mind with a life-or-death diagnosis right after breaking up with her boyfriend? You really think that’s a time to judge how someone’s going to act under more normal circumstances?”

I swallowed, suddenly feeling like a dick myself.

“Here’s the deal…and you can consider the source and shitcan this advice if you want, but here’s Uncle Jordan’s take on things. It doesn’t matter who the person is, when you make a commitment like being in a relationship, you are always going to open yourself up to be shredded. It’s the nature of the beast.”

I turned and looked at him but didn’t reply, adjusting my sunglasses. The traffic was starting to loosen up and we’d made it up to about twenty miles per hour with not a brake light in sight.

“She hurt you before. I get it. You hurt her too, right?”

I nodded.

“I’m your money guy so I’m going to put this in terms that are familiar to me. You need to look at this like a cost versus value decision. Is the risk you take of getting hurt worth the benefit of what you get from having her in your life? If yes, then stay with her, be with her and try to make it work. If no, then end it.”

“I guess that’s what I have to figure out.”

“Yeah. But for what it’s worth I thought you two were good together, for all that it irritated me.”

The rest of our trip devolved into bouts of silence or small talk and I was relieved. Jordan’s words were abrasive but not unwelcome. I wasn’t above admitting that sometimes I needed to be called on my shit. And I was sick of licking my wounds in silence.

So to get over the bouts of loneliness—especially on the weekends—I went over to my uncle’s house for Sunday dinner. They all knew about Emilia being up in Anza with Kim, of course, so no one asked after her—not even Britt’s kids, so I had to give props to their mom for schooling them before hand on that.

After dinner, we sat on the couch, one boy on either side of me while we played Mario Kart on the console. They thought it was hilarious to play teams and gang up on me. After my second victory—this one by the skin of my teeth, they gave up.

I put a hand on each of their heads as they tried to wrestle me down. They lost at that game, too. I loved those kids—even when DJ was trying unsuccessfully to shove his fingers up my nose. And given the state I was in lately, as I sat back and watched them get involved in game of checkers, I let myself think about the fact that at this time, I might have been an expectant father in other circumstances.

I’d never given myself the chance to even consider that possibility. The situation had been so dire. My every thought and goal had been toward Emilia’s survival. And when she’d been around, I’d never let myself go there, even after we knew she was healthy. Was it fair, now, to regret what I might never have after urging her to do what she did? When I gave them their hugs goodbye, I couldn’t ignore that little pinch that reminded me of my own loss. And that date—that date that Emilia had recited in the doctor’s office on that bleak morning: August 18. The due date.

I hung around after Britt and the kids left. Liam had already taken off and I think Peter could tell that I wanted to talk because he went to the fridge without saying a word, pulled out two beers, opened them and sat next to me on a stool at the kitchen counter. We sipped in awkward silence for the first few minutes before I cleared my throat.

“How go the wedding plans?”

He smiled. “Great, for me. I don’t have to do anything. Britt’s handling stuff on this end and Kim and Mia are doing the other stuff from theirs. I just have to show up with a wedding gift and a ring.”

“Sounds like a great deal to me.”

Peter cast a sidelong glance at me as he sipped again. “You doing okay?”

I put the beer down, resting my elbows on the counter. “Kinda.”

“So…I know things are delicate right now with you two. Kim and I are a little worried.”

I knew what that meant. They were a
lot
worried. In a lot of ways, their future happiness as a married couple was dependent upon how well Emilia and I could manage our relationship. Things could get messy for them very quickly if the two of us couldn’t get along, considering how close our family relationships were now.

“That makes a lot of worried people, then,” I said.

“I’ve also been worried about you. I know in cases like these, the person with the medical problems gets most of the attention—and rightly so. But sometimes it’s hard to be the silent partner who has to keep it all together for the sick one.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t mind that. It’s one of the rare few times she actually accepted any help from anyone.” And I cut myself off after that sentence, punctuating it with a long pull of beer because I hated the acid tone of my voice when it came out. It was getting harder and harder to hide the bitterness.

But he’d heard it and, like the sharp man that I knew he was, zeroed in on it like I was a witness he was cross-examining in court. “That’s the other difficulty…to deal with and stockpile the rightful resentment you’ve felt all these months. And you can’t express the anger when the person you are angry with is so sick.”

I cleared my throat. It felt tight with my own shame. I looked straight ahead, my hand opening and closing on the table in front of me.

He put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself for feeling that way. You’re human. Your feelings were hurt pretty badly. You have a right to those feelings whether she’s sick or not.”

“How were you and Kim able to figure it all out so quickly?” I said finally, mostly to take the heat off of me a little, but also because I was genuinely curious.

He laughed. “Quickly? She’s forty-three and I’m almost a decade older than her. I wish I’d found her when I was your age. But life doesn’t work that way. I’m just glad I found her now.” He shrugged. “And when I knew she was the one for me—well, I wasn’t about to waste any more time with being alone.”

I nodded. His words ran through my mind, over and over again during the drive home and the rest of the evening. That night, I refused to go in my office and drown out my thoughts with work when I seemed to come upon something valuable, something to think about.

Instead, when I hit the top of the stairs, I went into her room—that private sanctuary that I’d made for her. I sat on her window seat and watched the lights on the dark water, my throat tight, my head aching and heavy with thoughts. Glancing over, I saw a well-worn blue bandana on the night table. Picking it up and not knowing why, I brought it to my face, smelling it. Smelling
her.

The scent washed over me and I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by feelings that I’d been steadily attempting to block out. The feel of her slight body pressing against mine for a hug, for reassurance, tucking her head under my chin. The way I’d lie next to her, my hand on her back to make sure she was still breathing. The shine in her beautiful golden-brown eyes when she was being particularly witty or funny. The pout of her luscious lips right before I kissed them. The sound of her heartbeat when I laid my head on her chest. The taste of her tears when I comforted her.

These feelings gripped me, held me hostage in this one point in time, assailing me with every memory from the moment I’d logged in to Dragon Epoch and first met her online as FallenOne to the last time I’d seen her, slowly, sadly tucking herself behind the wheel of my car and driving away. My eyes stung with unshed tears and I actually wept into that damn bandana. I missed her. I needed her. But I was still unsure of her.

And I had no idea if I ever could be.

***

The night before Peter and Kim’s wedding, we met at a nearby restaurant to share a quiet dinner as a family. I knew I’d see Emilia there for the first time in eight weeks and I was both excited and nervous to see her. I had no idea what she had gone through during her time away. I only knew how difficult my own journey had been.

I hoped that we could sit down and talk calmly like adults. I hoped that we could find our way through this in a way that left us both able to face the future.

I met Peter out in the parking lot. My cousin had already gone inside but Peter, catching sight of me, stopped and hung back. I walked up with my gift in hand. “Hey! How’s the happy groom-to-be?”

Peter clapped his hand on my shoulder. “Nervous as hell.”

“Ah. What’s there to be nervous about? You’ve found yourself an amazing woman.”

He grinned and nodded. “It’s not her I’m nervous about. It’s living up to deserving her that makes me think twice. It’s a tall order.”

I hesitated, smiled and congratulated him, a sudden inexplicable knot of emotion in my throat. Why had that simple statement of anxiety choked me up?

I followed my uncle in and glanced over his shoulder at the party that was already partially seated at the table at the private room they had rented to us. When we arrived, everyone stood up. My eyes were sifting through the group of people—Britt, Rik and their kids, Heath, Liam—when a hand grasped my arm and I turned.

“Adam,” Kim said, smiling up at me, and then taking me in a tight hug.

I hugged her back. “Congratulations to the lovely bride.”

“Thank you. And…there’s someone here who I think you might like to see?”

I smiled to cover the nervous jitters inside, pulling back from the hug. “I think you’re absolutely right.”

Kim gave me an encouraging smile. “She just went to the bathroom. She’ll be right back.”

I let out a tight breath and turned around to watch the entryway. She was standing there, frozen in her spot, staring at me. I stood still, taking her in.

She wore dark colors, black jeans and a dark grey shirt. But nothing on her head because it was covered with a thick layer of her own hair. It was short, but it looked almost as if she’d cut it that way. And her natural eyebrows, although thinner, were back. And her skin…it glowed with healthy color.

She took a hesitant step toward me, a shy smile on her mouth.

I stepped toward her at the same time she stepped toward me and we met in the middle distance between us. “Hey,” she said, and she leaned forward as if to hug me, but when I didn’t reach out to hug her, she swayed back, a question in her eyes.

“Hey,” I said, throwing a glance at the table and the eight pairs of eyes all fixed on us.

Emilia’s gaze followed mine and she laughed. “Wow, it’s like we are a reality show or something.”

With her thus distracted, I leaned down and gave her a peck on the cheek before turning to sit at the table. Without a word, she sat across from me. We spent most of that meal engaged in a full table conversation about the upcoming nuptials, teasing the bride and groom, discussing various memories. Kim told some stories from Emilia’s childhood and I found out some new things about her. My cousins got revenge on me for some of the things I said by sharing some embarrassing facts about me.