Page 78 of Between Hate and Desire

“Well, not as long as you’re with me,” she says. “At least I’ll have you.”

Her words nearly have me gasping for air and choking on it. When she says things like that, I know she doesn’t mean it the way it sounds, but it still affects me. I wish with everything I am that she meant them the way I mean them.

“And I’m not going anywhere,” I confirm.

She rewards me with one of her sweet Lennon smiles that always turns me to mush. I’m a fucking love-sick puppy, a whipped one at that, but I don’t even care. She’s not mine to claim, but she’s mine to protect now.

Once we’re finished eating, Lennon stands and cleans up the mess, then we go to our spot on the couch to watch our show. She yawns over and over before she eventually drifts off, and I fan a blanket out on top of her. Since I’m not anywhere near tired, I decide to try to get some work done from home.

I catch up on emails and reply to as many people as I can, and by the time I look up, it’s nearly dark outside. Instead of ordering food, I throw a pizza in the oven, and the delicious cheesy scent eventually wakes Lennon.

“What’s that smell?” she asks with a raspy, sleepy voice.

“Pizza,” I tell her.

Five minutes later, it’s done, and I’m putting pieces on plates and delivering drinks to the coffee table for us. As we sit and eat, I realize how fucking envious I am of Brandon for everything he had. I try not to allow the dark thoughts to take over, but I can’t help it. I try to push them away, not wanting to have them at all.

“What is it?” Lennon asks with concern in her voice. Maybe she notices me as much as I do her.

“Nothing,” I say around a mouthful of the saddest pizza I’ve ever eaten.

She gives me a weak smile. “You can tell me. It won’t upset me. I know it was about Brandon.”

I swallow hard, wondering how the hell she knew that. Shrugging, I decide to tell her some. “Just hate that he can’t be here for you. That he doesn’t know he’s having a kid. That he can’t eat this shitty pizza with you.”

The last part has her chuckling. “I wasn’t going to say anything. But yeah, I’m never buying this brand again. It was a total fail on my part.”

She doesn’t say anything about my other admissions, though, and I’m happy she doesn’t because I know she feels the same way too. It’s the elephant in the room. Once we’re full, Lennon gets up and lets me know she’s going to take a shower.

She typically showers in the mornings, but after Brandon’s death, she’s used the bathroom as an escape to cry, so I don’t question her about it.

I pick up our mess, and just as I throw the rest of the pizza in the trash, I hear the water come on. Then I hear her singing.

Slowly, I walk down the hallway and stand outside the bathroom door to make sure I’m not imagining things. My eyes flutter closed, and I rest my head against the door, wishing I could tell her all my secrets and put my heart out on the line. Her soft and sweet voice sings so beautifully, I nearly give her a round of applause when the water turns off.

I go into my room and shut the door. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I rub my hand over my face. It’s the first time she’s sung since Brandon’s death, and it has me crumpling, falling, so damn happy that I can barely compose myself.

The bathroom door creaks open, and I hear her walk to her room and shut the door, then moments later, she knocks on mine. After a second, she turns the knob.

“Hunter?”

I straighten my stance, and she grins. “Just checking on you.”

“I heard you singing…”

Heat hits her cheeks. “I’m sorry?—”

“I’ve missed it,” I cut her off. I never want her to apologize for singing again. “It sounded perfect.”

“I thought you hated my singing.” She crosses her arms over her chest as she scowls, but I notice the pulse point in her neck throbbing.

“If I told you I liked it, do you think you would’ve kept it up?” I chuckle, reminding her of our antics.

A smirk spreads across her face. “Fair point.”

She walks into the room and looks around the space that once belonged to her and Brandon, then sits on the bed next to me. “It was a lullaby my mother used to sing to us when we were kids. It’s a song called ‘Baby Mine.’”

She carefully rests her hand on her stomach, and it fucking breaks me. I can see the tiniest bit of a bump there.

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