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Boxer Next Door by Summer Cooper (21)

Lydia

“Lydia…”

I winced as Ken called my name, his voice quiet like he knew what was coming. I couldn’t even look at him, and I hadn't since Mike left because I needed to think things through. Because, if what he said was true, then I’d been accusing him wrongly for some time now.

Thank God I never badmouthed him where Bryson could have heard.

My little man, who knew where his father was the whole time and what he was going to do. It was probably why he’d acted lonely for a bit then recovered quickly. I knew his depression could have lasted way longer than a couple of months, and when he started to come back into himself, his teachers had praised me, saying I must have done something right.

Oh. I did absolutely nothing. Can I even say I acted as a good mother, getting rid of everything that reminded him of his father because I thought it would be best?

My chest ached just thinking about it.

“Lydia.”

Ken called my name again, more firmly, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts. This time, I turned to look at him instead of ignoring him. He was frowning at me, looking distressed, but I didn’t think I could tell him what he probably wanted to hear.

“Can we talk about this?” he asked.

I laughed, and the sound came out hollow. My body shivered, and I wrapped my arms around myself.

“What’s there to talk about? You heard everything he said, didn’t you? I don’t understand a lot of it, but… when you think about it, even if he went about it in the wrong way, all Mike was doing was being a good husband and father.”

“He still divorced you,” he argued. “Legally, he’s no longer your husband, and you have the right to do what you want with your life. I get letting him see Bryson because the two of them were obviously close. But don’t tell me you’re thinking of giving him a second chance?”

I blinked rapidly, my arms tightening around my body. I hadn't quite thought that far. I wasn’t even sure exactly what was going through my head at the moment because there were too many thoughts clamoring for my attention.

“I don’t know,” I muttered, looking away from Ken.

“That isn’t a no, Lydia,” he said.

I grimaced. “What exactly is it that you want me to do, Ken? I can't make a decision now, considering how it’s going to affect my son. I want nothing but the best for him, but I have no idea what the best is in this situation.” I looked at him in sudden desperation, my eyes wide, body trembling. Ken saw the state I was in, and his own eyes widened in shock. “Ken, if you have some wisdom that will help me make this situation make sense, then I’m willing to listen to you. So just say it.”

He blinked at me, not answering for a long while. Then, I could see his whole body deflate, and it was his turn to look away from my gaze. He cleared his throat and slowly shook his head.

“I don’t have anything to say,” he admitted quietly.

I sighed out in a shudder. I’d known that would be his answer, but still. A part of me had hoped.

“So,” he started, “does this mean that this… is the end of us?”

No! The answer was internal and immediate, but I couldn’t say it out loud.

Seriously though. Fuck. We only just became a real thing after talking last night! I knew now that he wanted me. I was confident enough in the relationship to come out to my son and to let it go public. I was still worried about the age difference, but more because of what other people would think. I was sure my old hang-ups would have come back as I grew older, but that was for the future.

A future I might no longer have because stupid Mike chose the perfect time to visit. The sarcasm in that little tidbit had me snorting out loud.

“I don’t want us to end,” I admitted. “You’re one of the best things that has happened to me in a long time, Ken. I don’t want to let this go.”

“But…?” he prompted, arching an eyebrow my way.

I sniffled. “But I am so fucking confused. I don’t know what to think about that load of shit Mike told me. Supposedly, everything he did was for love, and you have no idea how much I’ve been cursing him since he decided to leave us. I wanted to erase him from my son’s mind. Once he was gone, I acted like he never existed in the first place. When I talked to my son about it, he was the one to give me reassurances. Whether I believed them or not, because he was so young at the time…”

My voice trailed off because my throat grew tight and itchy. I was blinking fast again, this time to hold back the tears that wanted to fall. Yeah, even if Bryson had told me his dad would come back, all I would have thought was my little boy was delusional because he missed his father.

Fuck! Why couldn’t things just be simple?

Out of nowhere, I felt an extra pair of arms circling me, pulling me into a wide, solid chest. I froze in place. But he wasn’t moving away, and little by little, I relaxed against him. I removed my arms from around myself and wrapped them around his waist, burying my face in his shoulder.

“It’s all right, Lydia,” he whispered, one of his hands carding through my hair.

I wanted to shout back that it wasn’t, that things would never be all right again. Instead, I sniffled and snuggled further into his arms.

“Look. If time is what you want, then you don’t need to worry. Trust me, Lydia, I do understand. I might not have gone through what you have, but I’ve had my own issues, and while they might not be any comparison, I know you need time to sort your thoughts out and decide what you want to do for your future.”

“I’m sorry, Ken,” I whispered, the sound muffled against his shoulder. I tightened my hug. “I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. And there’s no need to cry, alright? You need a clear head for this. Come on.”

He backed away from me, and I whimpered, refusing to let go. But he was patient, making soothing noises as he led me over to the couch, then sat me down. He wrapped the blanket around me, then disappeared into the kitchen. My body was shivering, as if I felt cold, so I didn’t leave the couch, curling myself under the blanket for warmth.

Ken was back minutes later, holding a mug.

“This is hot chocolate,” he said when he noticed me eyeing it. “I thought coffee wouldn’t be the best thing right now, and this usually calms you down. Besides, it’s the weekend, and neither of us has work.”

I rearranged myself, setting my feet on the floor and sitting upright so I could take the cup from him. My eyes were growing wet with how grateful I was to have this man around. Here I was, calling a halt to our still so new relationship, and he was worried about me.

“Thanks, Ken,” I said in a whisper. It wasn’t enough to show him my gratitude, but it would have to do for now. I took a sip of the hot chocolate and sighed. He knew just how I liked it, extra milk and sugar with just a touch of honey.

“It’s fine, Lydia. Just call me when you need me, all right? I’ll go home and clean my place up. I haven’t done it in days.”

He pecked a quick kiss on my forehead and then he was leaving. My chest tightened, my hands twitching against the mug. I wanted to follow after him, tell him he didn’t need to go. But the words wouldn’t get past my throat because I knew I needed to be alone, even if I didn’t like it.

So, I sat there and continued to drink the hot chocolate as I rearranged my thoughts into something that made sense.

The topic of thought was, of course, Mike. And what he’d done.

All of it, the divorce, disappearing for years, reappearing a rich man. All of it was for our sake. I could understand that much now.

But why go through the divorce at all? Yeah, I might have started worrying he was dead when I didn’t get any calls or contact within the first year. But Mike and I had been together for years. We trusted each other. That was what hurt me the most, because he’d sprung a divorce on me out of nowhere, and it had messed me up. It must have been hard for him to watch it, if he really hadn't meant it, but why not say something then?

He should have told me.

Yeah, maybe he couldn’t give me details, but he should have trusted his wife of more than a decade instead of telling our young child. He might have done it to give Bryson hope for when he was gone, and I was sort of glad about that. I wouldn’t have wanted my boy to suffer more than he already did. But why tell me nothing at all if he was going to tell Bryson something?

“Did he not trust me?” I thought out loud to myself. “I can't think of anything else… and knowing all this, can I ever trust him again?”

The answer to that wasn’t simple. I believed what he was saying, but the shit I went through during the divorce and his disappearance afterward was hell for me, and not something I could easily forget. What if something similar came up again? If he decided he wanted to leave, and then told me nothing, just disappeared into nothingness? I couldn’t do that.

And as long as I stayed indecisive like this, I probably shouldn’t be contacting either of them.

I took a week to myself, I even called work and told them I wouldn’t be coming in for a while. All so I could spend enough time thinking everything over. I couldn’t afford to pick the wrong choice, considering it would be the decider for four futures. I didn’t want to be wrong.

It was the weekend again, and Bryson had been picked up to stay over with his friend again. I’d barely paid him much attention when he was back home from school during the week, and I felt a little guilty. I made a call to Martha to keep my son with Jason over for the weekend and just send him to school on Monday since I’d already sent him off with a bag of clothes and his things. She was glad to. It was only when I put the phone down when I thought something, and I wondered why it hadn't occurred to me before?

Mike said something to him, so why not ask Bryson about this?

So I called right back and asked to speak to him.

“Of course, Lydia,” Martha said. “You can talk to him anytime. And, when you’re no longer busy, let me know, and I’ll drive him back immediately, okay?”

I smiled, though it was strained and she couldn’t see it. “Thank you, Martha.”

A minute later, Bryson was on the phone.

“What is it, Mom?” he asked, sounding curious.

I sucked in a sharp breath, then let it out slowly. “Um, Bryson. I’m calling because I wanted to ask you… some things about your dad. If he ever told you anything, like would he be coming back, or…?”

I was floundering for something to ask. I wasn’t sure what to say, and I didn’t want to give anything away just yet. Bryson didn’t seem to think anything was wrong, though, his voice as chirpy as always when he answered.

“Sure, Mom. He told me everything when he went away.”

My breath caught in my throat in surprise, even though I’d been expecting it.

“What did Daddy tell you, honey?” I asked, my voice breaking a little on the words.

Bryson hummed. “He told me that he had to go away for work. That no matter how long it took, I had to believe he would come back. He told me he’d be working underground for the government for a few years, and I had to be a brave boy and wait for him.”

I was stunned, yet again. It had been years ago, yet Bryson said it with such confidence, like he never once doubted his dad. Something I’d done constantly. I started to doubt myself. I wanted to be happy with Ken, but Mike… he was Bryson’s father, and he never left us. I just didn’t trust him enough.

Could I… give us another chance?

Before I made a huge mistake, I called Annara. I knew she was anxious, because we hadn't talked for a whole week. She didn’t even know what was going on, and I explained it all to her. She was quiet for a minute, then she was shouting at me over the phone.

“Lydia, are you fucking mental? You do not go back to a man that left you the way that bastard did, no matter how justified his reasons! Fuck him, all right? He has no right to ask you for a second chance after he shattered your heart the way he did! Besides, don’t you have someone you love? A man that is damned fine, I might add? If you leave him, I fucking swear, Lydia, I will take him from you and never speak to you again!”

I was surprised at first, her loud voice causing me to pull the phone from my ear a little. But I heard everything she said clearly, and after a moment of sitting there and blinking in befuddlement, I laughed.

“Honey, you’re a genius,” I told her after her rant was over. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, you’re right! Ken’s been there for me, Ken makes me happy. Mike deserves to be with his son, but he has no right to my heart anymore because I’ve already given it to someone else.”

She hummed pleasantly. “There you go, honey. Now, don’t you feel great that you talked to me before doing something so stupid?”

I laughed. I didn’t even care that she was still insulting me. “He’s been so good to us, Annara,” I admitted. “To me and Bryson. He made me and my little boy smile. And everything is so much better with him than it ever was with Mike. I’ve been thinking of the wrong shit this entire time! There’s something I need to do, okay? Expect a really big present this Christmas!”

I didn’t wait for her goodbye before cutting the call. Immediately, I called Ken's number, biting my nails, waiting as the phone rang.

It rang until it cut off. Ken wasn’t picking up.

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