The next morning, as I was walking her out, Tyler had been walking in.
That’s when my friendship with my best friend in the entire world had blown up right in my face.
Words were said by both parties, me trying to salvage a friendship that I needed more than anything, him saying that what I’d done was unforgivable. And before I could backpedal, Tyler was out of my life.
Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Tara.
Forty weeks later on the dot, a bouncing baby boy had been delivered into the world by a pleased Tara. Although, that had more to do with money and less to do with the fact that she just became a mommy. Unfortunately for me, in her mind, my son would net her a lot of money and influence.
The sad part is that I wanted nothing to do with Tara, and I never really did.
If I ever wanted to have Tyler back in my life again—and I prayed that it would happen one day—I had to steer clear of her.
Which I tried to do…well, at least as much as I could considering that I did have a baby with her.
But every time I tried to breach the gap with Tyler, he’d just pull farther away.
It wasn’t until I’d managed to run him out of the city in my desperate attempt to get him to understand that I saw the light. He’d have to be the one who’d come back to me, and it had to be on his terms. Meanwhile, I’d felt like my heart had been ripped out of my body for a couple of reasons.
First, I no longer had my best friend, the man who had been with me through everything in my life at a time when I needed him more than I ever had.
Second, my son, Matias Tyler Pierce, wouldn’t know his uncle—my brother, although not by blood.
Another ping, this time with a message from Tyler’s woman, lit up my phone.
Reagan: If you’re laughing at that meme he just sent, you’re going to hell.
Snickering even though I was on the verge of a complete meltdown, I replied back.
Reagan had been the woman who got through to Tyler. She healed him, she helped him work through what happened, and she orchestrated the rekindling of a friendship I had given up hope on.
Which couldn’t have come at a better time.
When they came back into my life a month ago, I’d been on the brink of losing it because my baby boy, my everything, was dying.
The leukemia was winning, and I was losing my mind every day that he lost ground in his fight.
Taking a seat on the recliner that Tara also hated me sitting in since I had taken it from her house, I stared at my son who was sleeping on the couch.
Then I looked down at my hands and felt the first drop of wetness hit my thumb.
I didn’t know what to do.
I couldn’t fight something that I couldn’t see.
***
“Daddy?”
I sat up and rubbed my eyes, looking over at my son who was picking his little head up from the bathroom floor.
“Hey, buddy. How you doing, buddy?” I asked, running my hand over his little bald head as he breathed softly. Easily.
“I want to watch the Dragon Riders.” He looked at me. “Can we do that?”
I felt a lump in my throat. “It’s two o’clock in the morning. Are you sure you don’t want to try to go to bed?”
About two hours ago, Matias, lately known as Ty-Ty, thanks to Tyler coming back into my life, had started throwing up. Throwing up so violently that we couldn’t even leave the bathroom because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to let me know that he wasn’t feeling good in time.
Matias had done a lot of growing up over the last six months or so. No longer was he my little buddy—my toddler. No, he was my little man who said and did things that were beyond what you’d expect from a four-year-old.
“No,” Matias shook his head. “I want to stay here. Can I watch it on the phone?”
I handed him my phone, as I’d done many times before, and I watched as he expertly navigated the electronic device.
Moments later, my phone was playing his favorite show, and my eyes again started to droop closed.
I idly wondered what Tara did when things like this happened. She didn’t seem the type who would care whether he was sick or not, and that thought was making me a little sick.
But now wasn’t the time to bring that up. He was doing well, not asking why I was with him instead of Tara, and I had a feeling that I didn’t want to know why he wasn’t asking.
As a sense of dread filled my chest, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever be ready to hear the answer.
Tomorrow—or later today—I’d have to contact my lawyer and get some papers drawn up to make sure that this was all done legally. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if Tara tried to come back and shake me down for more cash by making it out like I was the one in the wrong and not her.
“Daddy?”
I looked down at my son.
“Yeah?” I asked, trying to drag my thoughts off of Tara and the awful person that she was.
“Mommy usually calls the cleaning lady to come clean up after me when we are at her house. Can we call her? I like her.” Matias said suddenly.
I blinked. “You like her?”
“Yes. Her name is Isadora.” He paused. “She brings me cookies. And she makes sure that they’re the kind that’ll still taste good in two or three days because that’s how long it usually takes for me to get hungry again.”
I felt my heart warm at that.
“You didn’t make a mess…but I’ll call her if you want me to. I’m sure she can just do a general cleaning.” I hesitated.
I was all for doing anything that made my boy smile, so if he wanted Isadora here, I’d find a way to make that happen.
“Are you going to work tomorrow?” he questioned.
I closed my eyes and thought about my job.
I’d taken a position at the prison as a guard. Not because I needed to work, but because I was fuckin’ bored.
I’d originally planned on hiring on at the police station, but with Matias being so sick, I needed something with more flexible hours.
“Not tomorrow,” I told him. “But I’m supposed to go back to work on Thursday. I’ll have to see about finding someone to cover that shift.”
Matias didn’t ask why.
And that feeling in my chest grew.
He knew that Tara wasn’t coming back. I didn’t know how he knew, but he did.
“Don’t quit.”
I looked down at my boy who still had the phone blasting away, but his eyes trained solely on me.
“I don’t know that I have a choice,” I admitted. “Without…” Tara. “Someone needs to watch you, and…”
“We’ll figure it out,” he said solemnly. “We always do, don’t we, Daddy?”
Yeah, we fuckin’ did.
I moved until my head was resting on a new package of toilet paper, the length of my body spread out along the tub, my feet next to the toilet. “I love you, Ty-Ty.”
Matias’ eyes took me in, and finally, he smiled. “I love you, too.”
***
Dear Rome,
I can see how your life would be complicated. What I don’t see is how you waste what you’ve been given.
In my previous letter, I was in no way saying that you led a glamorous life, I was just saying that you’ve definitely got possibilities that I’ll never have.
I have a boring job, one that doesn’t require a college education, or really require any skill at all to do.
It was never my intention to belittle your life, and I’m sorry if it came across that way.
I’m also sorry to hear about the paparazzi and your ex. Neither one sounds good.
One day I hope you find your happy.
From,
RP’s Biggest Fan
Chapter 2
A Southern goodbye is saying goodbye twenty times and exchanging four hugs as you slowly inch your way toward your car.
-Izzy’s secret thoughts
Isadora
“Hey there, Isadora Rosalynn Solis.”
I looked over at my brother and raised an eyebrow at him.
“What do you want?” I asked carefully.
Oscar grinned. “I have a last minute clean for you. It’s the football player’s house.”
I felt my heart jump into my throat.
That’s when my friendship with my best friend in the entire world had blown up right in my face.
Words were said by both parties, me trying to salvage a friendship that I needed more than anything, him saying that what I’d done was unforgivable. And before I could backpedal, Tyler was out of my life.
Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Tara.
Forty weeks later on the dot, a bouncing baby boy had been delivered into the world by a pleased Tara. Although, that had more to do with money and less to do with the fact that she just became a mommy. Unfortunately for me, in her mind, my son would net her a lot of money and influence.
The sad part is that I wanted nothing to do with Tara, and I never really did.
If I ever wanted to have Tyler back in my life again—and I prayed that it would happen one day—I had to steer clear of her.
Which I tried to do…well, at least as much as I could considering that I did have a baby with her.
But every time I tried to breach the gap with Tyler, he’d just pull farther away.
It wasn’t until I’d managed to run him out of the city in my desperate attempt to get him to understand that I saw the light. He’d have to be the one who’d come back to me, and it had to be on his terms. Meanwhile, I’d felt like my heart had been ripped out of my body for a couple of reasons.
First, I no longer had my best friend, the man who had been with me through everything in my life at a time when I needed him more than I ever had.
Second, my son, Matias Tyler Pierce, wouldn’t know his uncle—my brother, although not by blood.
Another ping, this time with a message from Tyler’s woman, lit up my phone.
Reagan: If you’re laughing at that meme he just sent, you’re going to hell.
Snickering even though I was on the verge of a complete meltdown, I replied back.
Reagan had been the woman who got through to Tyler. She healed him, she helped him work through what happened, and she orchestrated the rekindling of a friendship I had given up hope on.
Which couldn’t have come at a better time.
When they came back into my life a month ago, I’d been on the brink of losing it because my baby boy, my everything, was dying.
The leukemia was winning, and I was losing my mind every day that he lost ground in his fight.
Taking a seat on the recliner that Tara also hated me sitting in since I had taken it from her house, I stared at my son who was sleeping on the couch.
Then I looked down at my hands and felt the first drop of wetness hit my thumb.
I didn’t know what to do.
I couldn’t fight something that I couldn’t see.
***
“Daddy?”
I sat up and rubbed my eyes, looking over at my son who was picking his little head up from the bathroom floor.
“Hey, buddy. How you doing, buddy?” I asked, running my hand over his little bald head as he breathed softly. Easily.
“I want to watch the Dragon Riders.” He looked at me. “Can we do that?”
I felt a lump in my throat. “It’s two o’clock in the morning. Are you sure you don’t want to try to go to bed?”
About two hours ago, Matias, lately known as Ty-Ty, thanks to Tyler coming back into my life, had started throwing up. Throwing up so violently that we couldn’t even leave the bathroom because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to let me know that he wasn’t feeling good in time.
Matias had done a lot of growing up over the last six months or so. No longer was he my little buddy—my toddler. No, he was my little man who said and did things that were beyond what you’d expect from a four-year-old.
“No,” Matias shook his head. “I want to stay here. Can I watch it on the phone?”
I handed him my phone, as I’d done many times before, and I watched as he expertly navigated the electronic device.
Moments later, my phone was playing his favorite show, and my eyes again started to droop closed.
I idly wondered what Tara did when things like this happened. She didn’t seem the type who would care whether he was sick or not, and that thought was making me a little sick.
But now wasn’t the time to bring that up. He was doing well, not asking why I was with him instead of Tara, and I had a feeling that I didn’t want to know why he wasn’t asking.
As a sense of dread filled my chest, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever be ready to hear the answer.
Tomorrow—or later today—I’d have to contact my lawyer and get some papers drawn up to make sure that this was all done legally. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if Tara tried to come back and shake me down for more cash by making it out like I was the one in the wrong and not her.
“Daddy?”
I looked down at my son.
“Yeah?” I asked, trying to drag my thoughts off of Tara and the awful person that she was.
“Mommy usually calls the cleaning lady to come clean up after me when we are at her house. Can we call her? I like her.” Matias said suddenly.
I blinked. “You like her?”
“Yes. Her name is Isadora.” He paused. “She brings me cookies. And she makes sure that they’re the kind that’ll still taste good in two or three days because that’s how long it usually takes for me to get hungry again.”
I felt my heart warm at that.
“You didn’t make a mess…but I’ll call her if you want me to. I’m sure she can just do a general cleaning.” I hesitated.
I was all for doing anything that made my boy smile, so if he wanted Isadora here, I’d find a way to make that happen.
“Are you going to work tomorrow?” he questioned.
I closed my eyes and thought about my job.
I’d taken a position at the prison as a guard. Not because I needed to work, but because I was fuckin’ bored.
I’d originally planned on hiring on at the police station, but with Matias being so sick, I needed something with more flexible hours.
“Not tomorrow,” I told him. “But I’m supposed to go back to work on Thursday. I’ll have to see about finding someone to cover that shift.”
Matias didn’t ask why.
And that feeling in my chest grew.
He knew that Tara wasn’t coming back. I didn’t know how he knew, but he did.
“Don’t quit.”
I looked down at my boy who still had the phone blasting away, but his eyes trained solely on me.
“I don’t know that I have a choice,” I admitted. “Without…” Tara. “Someone needs to watch you, and…”
“We’ll figure it out,” he said solemnly. “We always do, don’t we, Daddy?”
Yeah, we fuckin’ did.
I moved until my head was resting on a new package of toilet paper, the length of my body spread out along the tub, my feet next to the toilet. “I love you, Ty-Ty.”
Matias’ eyes took me in, and finally, he smiled. “I love you, too.”
***
Dear Rome,
I can see how your life would be complicated. What I don’t see is how you waste what you’ve been given.
In my previous letter, I was in no way saying that you led a glamorous life, I was just saying that you’ve definitely got possibilities that I’ll never have.
I have a boring job, one that doesn’t require a college education, or really require any skill at all to do.
It was never my intention to belittle your life, and I’m sorry if it came across that way.
I’m also sorry to hear about the paparazzi and your ex. Neither one sounds good.
One day I hope you find your happy.
From,
RP’s Biggest Fan
Chapter 2
A Southern goodbye is saying goodbye twenty times and exchanging four hugs as you slowly inch your way toward your car.
-Izzy’s secret thoughts
Isadora
“Hey there, Isadora Rosalynn Solis.”
I looked over at my brother and raised an eyebrow at him.
“What do you want?” I asked carefully.
Oscar grinned. “I have a last minute clean for you. It’s the football player’s house.”
I felt my heart jump into my throat.
