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Flawed Heart: Chapter 41

Zander

Being a father has truly humbled me. Seeing Asher everyday reminds me what I almost lost.  I don’t blame Amelia for not trusting me not to hurt her again. I also can’t let her go. I gave her a month, but I should have bargained for longer. We’re parenting together, but she is as closed off as before. Nothing I do or say is changing her mind. I wonder if I am hurting her more by keeping her. Would she be better off with someone else? The thought makes me angry. I want her to be happy, but I’m running out of ideas on how to do that for her.

I get home from work and find Amelia on the floor playing with Asher. He’s intrigued by the toy she holds next to him. My heart squeezes, it’s an image I want to come home to everyday. Time is running out, but I’m not above playing dirty.

“York will be here in two hours,” I tell her. Amelia’s eyes snap up to mine.

“Why?”

“To watch Asher. We’re going out,” I shrug. She sits up on the floor, her hand running over her hair.

“Zander–”

“It’s dinner, Amelia,” I chuckle and try to let her hesitancy roll off me, “You need to eat, right? Plus York is complaining he doesn’t get uncle time.”

Her eyes drop to the floor, “You guys are talking again?”

I shrug, “When we need to. He asked about Asher after the meeting today, so I asked if he wanted to hang out with him for a few hours.” I don’t mention that he curses me out every other time I see him. We’ve come to an agreement that we won’t be partnering anytime soon. Our childhood dream is put on hold again, and it’s my fault. I’m to blame so I don’t push. Things are good right now for both of us, so it’s not needed.

She bites her lip, quietly thinking. It feels like forever before her ocean eyes look at me, “Okay. I’ll go get ready.” She moves her hand over her sweatpants and tank top like it should bother me, but it doesn’t. I like seeing her relaxed and comfortable. I nod and drop to the floor to play with my boy.

York rings the doorbell two hours later. I grab Asher off the floor to answer the door.

“There’s my buddy!” York grabs him from me, and I let him. His face lights up and Asher smiles at his antics. “Missed you Rookie.”

I roll my eyes, “He’s not playing for the Dodgers.”

York glances at me before going back to ignoring me. It’s how we communicate now. “You’re right. Maybe he’ll play guitar like his other favorite people.”

“Fuck you,” I grunt and walk away to change my shirt. I hear Amelia and York talking. She goes over all of Asher’s favorites and instructions for his bedtime.

They both get silent when I walk back into the room, “Ready?”  I turn to Amelia who gives me a small smile.

“Sure.”

With my hand on her back while I guide her out the door, I glance one more time at York, right as he silently mouths “I’ll kill you.” and drags his finger across his neck. I smirk and close the door. Amelia is already in the passenger seat. I climb in the driver side and start the car.

“Where are we going?” She turns to me, and for the first time I catch a hint of the old perfume she used to wear. I love that smell.

“It’s a new spot downtown called the Chandelier Bar. Katie and her husband went last weekend, she said the food was amazing,” I tell her.

“Good, I’m starving actually,” She laughs softly and I shiver from the sound.

The outside of the restaurant is purple with a bluish-neon glow. True to its namesake the minute we step inside hundreds of chandeliers are on the mirrored ceiling. The room practically glows and is muted only by the dark stained wooden floors.

“Reservation for Knight,” I tell the hostess. She glances at me and Amelia and a huge smile breaks apart her lips.

“You two! Oh my god, I’m so excited to see you here, together!” She glances around and leans closer to Amelia, “I was rooting for you the whole time. My heart burst from his interview.”

“Ahh,” Amelia tucks her hair behind her ear.

“Our seats, please?” I jump in, my arm wrapping around Amelia.

“Right this way,” the hostess leads us to a back table, completely oblivious to Amelia’s discomfort, while she keeps talking.

Once we sit, she hands us menus before leaving. I glance at Amelia who grabs for her water. “Wasn’t so bad.”

She snorts, and water sprays slightly. I grin, “Because she’s Team Zander.”

“I think I remember her saying she was rooting for you. She’s clearly Team Amelia,” I shrug, a smile still on my lips. Amelia smiles too. “At least I won someone over with my interview.”

Her eyes drop to the table. I know it shouldn’t bother me that she’s never brought it up, but it does. I bared my heart in that interview. It was the realest I’ve ever been, and I did it in front of the nation, hoping she would see.

“I have a doctor’s appointment on Monday. Can you be home early to watch Asher?” Amelia changes the subject, and I let her, following her lead. Tonight is about her.

“Yes,” I nod, “Is everything okay?”

Her cheeks flush and she takes another drink, “It’s just my six week follow up appointment. To clear me for activity and make sure I healed well.”

My brain stammers. My eyes heat when I look at her, picturing her long, pink hair spread out over my bed.

“Don’t look at me like that,” She blushes more.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m dessert,” She counters, her brow raised.

Holy shit, she’s flirting with me. I smirk and lean across the table, “You know I always liked dessert before my meal.”

Our gazes lock and the old familiarity floods my chest. For a split second it’s as if the past year didn’t happen.

“Can I take your order?” The server interrupts.

Amelia blinks, and the past fades. The love in her eyes is pushed back again. We order our food and drinks. When the server leaves, I notice how heavy the silence is at our table.

“There’s only one week left.”

I glance at Amelia, forcing myself to stay calm. I don’t want to fight with her. She has to know though that I will do anything to keep her. “I know.”

“We’ll be leaving,” She keeps pushing.

“Is that what you really want?” I challenge her. “We’ve been good here. We have a routine. Asher gets to see us both daily. You want to go back to work soon, how will you juggle both? Daycare? What if you need to work late?

“I’ll figure it out,” She jumps in, her guard up.

I sigh, my hands tugging at my hair, “I know you will. I’m not saying you can’t do it, I’m asking if that’s what you really want. Stay here. Stay with me. You have to work late, or run off to a concert. I’m already here. You need to sleep in, I’ll stay up with him. We can make this work, Amelia.”

“I can’t live with you forever, Zander,” She whispers.

“Why not?” I frown at her. “You think I’m going to move on? Is that it?”

“No,” She shakes her head, “I don’t know, but it’s a possibility.”

My eyes fall to the table, “I will never feel for anyone how I feel for you Amelia. I keep telling you I love you, but I can’t make you believe it. I want us to be a family. Just…before you make this decision, just think about it. Think about what you really want.”

“I can’t give you any more of my heart, Zander. There is nothing left,” My eyes find hers when her voice cracks.

“Bullshit,” I shake my head, growling in frustration, “You’ve loved me since you were a little kid. Anytime I had a hard day, when my grandfather was a dick. You forgave me for being a jackass about the contract. You have the biggest, kindest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. You still love me, and it scares you.”

“You were a jackass. You did hurt me. Should we continue this cycle because that’s what it’s becoming? I am scared. I do feel hopeless. You made me this way,” Her eyes gleam with anger.

I jerk back, her words hitting me square in the chest. Everything felt like it was caving in on us and there was no way to escape. It felt like dying.

“Did you ever listen to my interview?”

Amelia bites her lip and shakes her head. I sigh, and almost laugh in frustration. I thought maybe she was just avoiding it. Hearing she’s never even seen it, or heard it makes me feel dead inside. Dread fills my gut every day we get closer to the end. Knowing Amelia hasn’t even swayed in her feelings for me is a knife to the chest. This time I really might lose everything.


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