Memories That Still Haunt Us

Chapter Fifty-Five:

When I wake up the following morning, wrapped in the sheets with one of Ellis's arms tossed over my side, I debate remaining here and falling back asleep in his embrace. But decide against it. It's rare that I'm ever awake before Ellis is, and I'm surprised he's not already down in his study. Despite Millie's death, Ellis only took the day of the funeral off and has been working all hours of the day.

It's been slightly annoying that we've hardly had any time together because of his insistence on burying his head in work. It's his way of coping—his way of pretending what happened didn't really happen. I wish he'd turn to me for that instead.

Carefully, I move his arm off me, then sneak quietly out of the room to cook us all breakfast. Except when I reach the top of the stairs, I hear muffled cries coming from Beck's room.

When I open Beck's door, I find him sniffling on top of his bed, clutching a stuffed animal tightly, his eyes red and puffy. I step into his room, and when his eyes fall on me, he begins to cry harder. I've only seen Beck cry once since working here, and it was silently at the funeral.

I drop on my knees before him. "Beck, what's wrong?" I ask.

He sniffles, a sob catching in his throat. "It's...all...my...fault." His words come out in between each raspy breath.

My eyebrow raises. "What's your fault?"

His bottom lip puffs out, and his watery eyes peer up at me, cracking a bit of my icy exterior. I inhale deeply and try to build the ice fortress back up. "It's my fault Mom died." His eyes fall with shame, his knuckles turning white from gripping the stuffed animal so tightly. I see his body shiver.

"Why would you think that, Beck?"

"Because," His voice grows quiet. "I wished you were my mom instead."

I think back to our brief conversation in the pool over the summer, surprised he even remembers. His whispered voice said he wished I was his mom. I'm slightly thrown off by Ellis and Beck's grief. She was hardly around, and when she was, she was horrid. It was clear everyone secretly wanted her gone, and now that she is, they're sad? I understand Beck lost his mother and Ellis lost his wife, but are they genuinely this crushed over it?

"Don't be ridiculous." I say it sternly. "It wasn't your fault just because you said that."

He rubs his eye roughly. "What if it was, though? What if she heard and I made her want to die?"

I awkwardly place my hand on Beck's knee, hoping to offer him some comfort. "Becks, it wasn't your fault. Your mother's death is not on you, okay? Now, come on. Let's make your dad breakfast before he wakes up." I extend my hand out for him to grab, and he nods somberly before placing his small fingers in my palm.

He continues to whimper like a wounded puppy as we move down the stairs. In the living room, he sits silently on the counter stool, watching through tear-soaked eyes as I crack some eggs into a bowl. I slide it over and ask him to stir. His movements are lazy, delayed, and overall frustrating.

Exhaling a breath of frustration, I yank the bowl back and finish stirring myself. "Beck, stop blaming yourself. If you're not going to help, why don't you put on something to watch?"

He nods quietly and slips into the living room. I imagine Beck as a younger Ellis. What he must've been like as a child. The smallness of his hands, the dirt on his face, the ruffled hair. I imagine his clothes having holes and shoes that barely fit him. I imagine him strong, never emotional or dependent on anyone else. It was him against the world. How perfect he would've been for me in high school. He would've protected me and loved me.

I think about the teacher tending to his wounds after our last encounter, feeling defeated in his quiet, dreary house. Never married, never will be. Unable to find another girl as vulnerable and easy as me. Unable to find another child as broken.

"What are you making?" Ellis is beside me, secretly sliding a hand behind my back, his fingers slipping under my shirt and creating circles on my skin.

Goosebumps form, and I smile down at the bowl. "French toast."

"Yum." He glances over at Beck, sees he's focused on the TV, and quickly plants a kiss on my cheek before moving over to Beck in the living room.

It feels like a sixties sitcom. I twirl happily towards the stove and dunk a slice of bread in the mixture. I should start to sing or get everyone up and dancing. I should make the house mine by adding touches of me to each room. I mean, this is basically my home now. My family. My life. Just as I've wanted for so long now. It's finally happening.

"Why don't we do something today?" I ask Ellis over my shoulder. "Get our minds off everything."

"What do you have in mind?" Ellis asks.

"Pumpkin patch?"

I see a smile sprout on Beck's face. Ellis taps Beck's nose. "How's that sound?" He asks him.

Beck nods eagerly. "That sounds fun."

"Alright, we'll go." Ellis agrees, and I smile triumphantly.

***

Beck dives headfirst into the bounce house with the other kids while Ellis and I stand off to the side. "Beck was crying this morning." I decide to tell him.

Ellis looks at me. "He's been oddly unemotional since her death."

"He thinks it's his fault she died."

This makes his eyes widen. "Why would he think that?"

"Because he told me once that he wishes I was his mom instead." I hope the revelation will make Ellis happy. That his child sees me as a motherly figure. It'll make him realize that keeping me around is the best thing for Beck and him.

Ellis looks away, hand rubbing along his jawline. He remains quiet for so long that I wonder if I've made him mad in some way. "What did you say back to him?"
"What?"
"When he told you that, what was your response?"

I hesitate. Unsure of what to say. What would Ellis have wanted me to say in that moment? Ellis switches his gaze to me, peering at me as if he already knows what my response was. Smoothing the front of my sweater, I stand straighter. "I told him the mom he already has loves him very much." I hope my voice is convincing.

"Mhm." Ellis replies shortly, eyes slightly narrowed, before moving over to the bounce house and ordering Beck to come out. "Let's pick a pumpkin to bring home." He says to Beck.

"Do you not believe me?" I ask Ellis quietly as we walk towards the pumpkins.

Ellis locks eyes with me. "You're lying to a liar, Reign. You don't fool me." He smirks slightly before moving over to Beck to help him carry a large pumpkin over to the counter.

I wonder what he means. What has he lied about? I suppose our affair for months. But what else? I watch the way Ellis is with Beck. Caring, loving, nurturing. Always looking out for him. The father he always wanted for himself. Ellis is perfect in every way, and I find it hard to imagine anything that would turn me away from him.

I force a smile on my face and take out my phone, telling Ellis and Beck to smile for the photo with the giant pumpkin.