BEAU

The living room in this shitty apartment isn't big enough for me to properly pace. I need to release this energy, this frustration.

It's bad enough that I can't call Emma mine. Can't touch her, kiss her, when I want.

It's worse that she's spending a weekend with Adam.

And it's the absolute fucking worst that I can't sock the prick for thinking he can tell me what Emma deserves. Like I don't already know.

Emma wouldn't like it if I hit her friend.

Zeus whines loudly, following my every step with his puppy eyes. I glance at him, as if he could give me advice, say something to calm me down. He cocks his head to the side, big ears pointed forward to listen.

It's not even an hour of being home when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I almost ignore it, I try to.

What if it's Emma?

Sighing, I finally grab it, momentarily clever enough to check the Caller ID.

Jesus Christ. What do I have to do to get some peace?

"What?" I press the phone to my ear, giving Zeus a head scratch with my other hand as I sink to a spot at my kitchen table.

"Hello to you, too." Zoey murmurs. The rhythmic hum of traffic wanes in the background. Baby crying, of course, he's always crying. "I just took a visit to see my mother - she moved once she and my dad split up so I don't see her as much. Brought Jack-Jack to see his Gran."

My eyes roll to the ceiling, frustration grinding my teeth together. "And?"

What the fuck does this have to do with me?

Zoey scoffs, having the nerve to sound offended. "And I was hoping I could stop by, I'm only like, an hour or so away."

"Only an hour or so." I narrow my eyes. "Not exactly on the way, is it?"

"Look, Beau. I've given a lot of thought to how we can see Max. Just let me come by and explain it in person."

Fuck. Why'd she have to say the kids name?

Zoey latches onto my silence, speaking louder over the shrill cries of her baby. "Please, Beau? Just hear me out. If you don't like it, I'll leave it alone." A pause. "I'll leave you alone."

I perk up at the offer, hand stilling in my hair. "If I hear you out, and I say no... That's it? You swear?"

Zoey sighs, her voice sounding deflated when she finally replies. "Even better, Beau, I'll pinky-promise."

My jaw ticks, fingers resuming their assault on my hair.

"You remember how we used to-"

"Yeah." I snap, cutting her off completely. "I remember. See you in an hour or so."

I hang up.

This is it - it'll be easy.

"Hear" her out.

Tell her no.

And then she's gone.

Simple.

Zoey is, in every sense of the word, a mess. Her normally pretty brown eyes are lined with dark circles, almost hazy from exhaustion, her golden blonde hair a frizzed birds nest around her head.

Her shirt is stained over the shoulder, I don't think she can see it. Like the baby threw up over her back and Zoey hadn't realized.

I offer her a water bottle from my fridge.

She doesn't smell, but I distinctly remember particularly enjoying the fragrant mix of her shampoo and the perfume she wore. Now... I'd believe you if you told me she'd just come from the gym.

"Say hi to Uncle Beau, Jackie." She grips the baby's chubby wrist and waves his tiny hand at me.

Uncle Beau?

Jackie?

Gross.

Despite her clear exhaustion, there's no doubt she loves her kid. She cooes every time he blinks, smiles, turns his head, shits.

"Here, hold him for one sec, and I'll get the stuff out of my bag." Without waiting, she thrusts the wriggly ball of squish over to me, seemingly instantly relieved when she has use of both her arms again.

Zoey sets her bag, a combination of her baby bag and purse it seems, on the table. Immediately frustrated with the clutter inside, she dumps its contents out entirely, mumbling under her breath. Diapers, bottles, makeup, a hair brush, wipes, stuff I don't even recognize all spread haphazardly across the surface, in no sense of order at all.

Feeling equally as uncomfortable watching her as I am holding the baby, I turn away from her tantrum, awkwardly cradling the infant in one arm and doing my best attempt at a slow, rhythmic rocking motion.

"Blemph," Jack blinks at me, before pinching his face together tightly, little bubbles of spit coming from his mouth.

What the hell? Is he okay?

I look over my shoulder to his mother, still organizing what appears to be better arranged piles of clutter. At least now there's a folder, some wrinkled sheets of paper.

Looking back down at the kid, I notice his face is back to normal. Smiling a little, even, eyes closed as his tiny chest rises and falls steadily, slowly.

I cock my head to the side, brows furrowed, confused by the feelings within me, the urges I've never felt before.

Without even thinking on it consciously, I extend a finger, gently poking Jack's chubby cheek, double chin area.

Oh, my God.

"Beau?"

I snap my head up instantly, removing my finger so abruptly that Jack begins to fuss again. Feeling heat spreading over my neck and up my cheeks, I thrust the baby back to his mother, holding him out until she accepts the chunker.

"You ready?" I mumble, nodding towards the table. I approach carefully, barely reading the words as I scan the pages she's laid out, still disturbed by the pleasant plumpness of the baby's face.

Or how it felt to touch it. I shake my head, focusing more seriously on the documents in front of me.

Max's picture, at the park and so happy, stands out.

"Yes. I'm ready if you are." Zoey adjusts the baby into some sort of contraption, like a sling over her chest, and continues talking, using both hands to point out various tidbits in front of us.

For a second I can't focus, wondering instead if Emma will wear one of those things. Walking around the kitchen, barefoot, humming to herself, a little her strapped to her chest.

"So with the rest of the money you gave me, I think we could go there. His school gets out around three in the afternoon, but he stays for after school care."

What? What is she saying now?

"After school care always starts with outside time in this playground." She taps a map, before flipping it over and showing me a real image of the playground.

"How do you know this?"

"His dad is the one who gets him, just before five." Her confidence wavers. "Poor baby."

Oh for Fuck's sake. "Zoey, where the fuck did you get this information from?"

"The private investigator we hired." She blinks at me innocently.

"You hired." I shake my head, raking my fingers through my hair. "This is fucking crazy."

I can't take it anymore. I nearly jump from my chair, back to pacing the small square footage of my apartment.

"What? What's so crazy?" Zoey follows closely behind me, talking into my ear like the devil on my shoulder. "We'll just be outside around play time after school. We'll see him for five minutes, just fives minutes, Beau, from way behind the fence, and we'll go. We won't talk to him, we won't -"

"Jesus Christ," I snarl, turning on my heel and startling her to an abrupt stop.

The momentum wakes the baby and he lets out an angry howl.

"What are you thinking? Are you even thinking at all?" I tap the side of my head frantically.

"Shh," Zoey bounces, lowering her head so she's breathing right atop his face. "It's okay, Jack. Momma's here." Unable to quiet his cries, she faces me again, eyes broken and tired. "I'm thinking that I want to see my son. With or without you,"

She finds a spot perching on my couch, gently resting the baby so his head is over her shoulder as she rubs his back in slow circles.

Probably how she got the puke stain.

Breaking momentarily from the massage, she reaches into a pocket, becoming frustrated as she can't find what she's looking for. Jack screams as she searches another, finally finding the pacifier but clumsily dropping it to the floor.

"Have you grown up at all? What if you get caught, Zoey? People would think you're crazy. It's like you're stalking him," I gesture to all the information on my table. "Fuck, they'd think you're kidnapping him, probably."

Zoey bends to pick the pacifier up and Jack hollers, the sound reverberating against my eardrums. My blood is racing, like everything inside me is tearing at my skin, the energy too much to contain.

Zeus lifts his head from his dog bed, eyeing the noisy child before letting out a deep bark. And another, and another, each one sending the baby into a deeper fit.

"Zeus, stop it." I scold, but still, he doesn't listen. He only gets louder.

"Shh, baby, it's okay." Zoey murmurs, slowly rocking back and forth, giving up on the sucker all together, as she determinedly meets my glare. "We won't hurt him."

Zeus barks again, overwhelming my senses.

"Enough!" I snap and he stops immediately, cocking his head to the side at me. Annoyed with me, he huffs quietly a couple of times before finally putting his head back down on his bed.

The baby still crying, but quieting somewhat, Zoey shakes her head. "We're just checking in on our son."

My eyes drop to her shirt, to her breasts. Not because I'm looking. Because they're leaking. A dark stain spreads from her right breast, down to her abdomen. The left is just starting.

"Um, Zoey." I mutter, neck hot. "You're, um... wet."

I gesture to my own chest area, looking down at the floor.

Zoey's mouth pops open in shock, face turning bright red. Tears of mortification build in her eyes, her chin trembling, bottom lip shaking.

Clinging to her son, she lets out a sad whimper, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

Tears and snot flow down her face as her breathing becomes more ragged. Her cries only fuel her child's, and soon they're both sobbing together.

My head is pounding, my throat aching hotly.

"Hey," I mumble, sitting tensely beside her, keeping at least a foot between us. I place a hesitant hand on her shoulder, letting it drop when she pulls away. "Zo, look at me."

Like a child, she refuses to, turning her face away from me. Like I won't know she's crying.

"Look at me." I repeat, waiting until she finally does. She looks so lost. So tired.

For a second, I lose my words as Zoey's doe eyes turn into Emma's coffee ones, Zoey's desperate expression now plastered on Emma's sweet face.

Is this what will happen to Emma? Is this what our baby will do to her?

"I know you want to see him, Zo. But you gave him up, gave him a better life. Now he has it." I shrug. "We should be happy."

"I will be," She nods, lip still quivering. Using her wrist to wipe her nose, she continues. "When I see for sure that he is."

I shut my eyes tightly. Like a dog with a fucking bone.

My frustration turns to anger, coursing through me with rapid speed.

Breathe in.

Out.

In.

"Like I said, Beau. I'm doing this with or without you."

Out.

Eyes still closed, I feel the weight shift on the cushion beside me as Zoey stands.

Finally opening them, I see her shoving all her belongings back, only carefully folding the information on Max and cautiously sliding it into it's own compartment in the oversized bag.

I watch her silently, gritting my teeth together.

Why does she have to be so difficult? So immature?

She warily adjusts the straps on her bag, throwing it over her shoulder but misjudging it's weight.

So pitiful?

The bag throws her balance and she stumbles, getting a strap booked onto one of my cabinets and spilling the contents in all directions across the kitchen floor.

The baby, who only just settled, screams again at the sound of heavier objects, her phone, keys and loose change, clanging loudly on the ground.

Zoey's eyes squeeze shut, her face crumbling before my eyes as she sinks to her knees, sniffling erratically as she picks up everything within reach.

Fuck.

Don't be a sucker.

This could all be over.

Just say no.

Still, I rise to my feet, quietly kneeling beside her. Placing a hand on the boy's head, I reach for a stray pacifier and hold it out to Zoey.

"Fine." This is a bad idea. "I'll come with you."

I couldn't keep you waiting!!
all I've got to say is: yikes
(and please don't hate me too much!)
love ❤️ thanks for reading - remember to vote if you liked it!