Back to You (Sequel to Take Me Away From Here)

Chapter 3

Faith POV: 

The backyard booms with chatter as the girls laugh at something Kim said. I should really be concerned that she's talking to them... The smell of burgers on the grill makes my stomach growl, while the sound of a baby crying makes my heart ache slightly. I turn toward Sara, seeing her rock Peyton gently while talking to Byron. I shake it off, before looking back at my babies. God, they've grown up so fast... 

"Baby, what do you want on your burger?" He asks, catching my attention. I stand up and walk over to the grill, seeing him smile at me. "Cheddar?" He says, knowing that's what I always pick. I nod, leaning against the railing of the deck right beside the grill. "Cheddar makes it better." He chimes, making me laugh while rolling my eyes. 

"Did you call me over just to make that joke?" I ask, seeing him shrug with a guilty smile. My smile fades away after a moment, causing him to watch me for a second. "What?" I catch, making him shrug once more. 

"Nothing. You just seem... I don't know... off." He informs me, making me take a deep breath. He's right, but this really isn't the right time to talk about it. "Is everything okay?" He asks, before I shake my head slightly, forcing a half-smile. 

"This isn't a good setting to delve into it." I say, glancing toward the girls. He follows my eyes and nods, getting the hint. He leans over and kisses my cheek, making me feel a little better. 

"Byron, can you watch the burgers?" He asks quickly, before Byron nods. He wraps his arm around my waist, leading me inside, and up to the bedroom. I sit down, my mind replaying the last time Byron grilled out for us. I was about six months pregnant with Audrey, and literally pushing the vomit back down. He had undercooked the burgers to the point where they were completely raw inside. Tim stated he was going to put mine back on since I "like them over-done", which he said to trying to keep Byron from feeling bad. Byron offered to do it instead, and came back with a charcoal brick. "Alright, so what's weighing on your mind?" He asks. 

"The whole therapy session with Tim... and the fact that he's getting out this week." I admit openly. He scratches the back of his neck, nodding slowly as I pick at the comforter. The rehab held him back a week, just to make sure he was completely ready to be released. It's been two weeks since I've seen him, and it's still weighing on me. "I'm scared he's going to pull something. I don't want him showing up here unannounced with some apology or stunt." I express, biting my lip. 

"Babe, you can't go to the worse case scenario. I'm sure the therapist went through all of that, and he knows his boundaries." He says, trying to play devil's advocate. I shake my head. 

"West, I know him. At the session with him, I could tell that it's coming... the big guilt-trip, apology parade he does after screwing up." I argue, hearing him sigh deeply. He sits down on the bed, beside me, reaching over and squeezing my hand. 

"Honey, I know this is a lot to take in, and try to push through... but you have to think about what he's going through too. He's got to be a little jumbled inside after all that's happened. I know that he loved you, so I think it's going to be a bit of a struggle for him to move on. You just need to be firm, and prepared. You're going to have to face him eventually, with the girls, so just... arm yourself." He says, pushing my hair back behind my ear. I nod, biting my lip while carefully considering his words. He leans over and kisses my cheek, making me turn my head toward him. He kisses my lips, causing a smile to appear. "Now that's what I like to see." He says. He gives my hand an extra squeeze, before standing up and ushering me back downstairs. 

"I think I'm going to stay up here for a minute... catch my breath." I release quietly. He nods, sparing me a smile before kissing my forehead. 

"Don't hang up here too long. I just might miss you." He teases, making me smile. He walks out and shuts the door, leaving the room silent outside of the rumbling of distant voices. I stagger over toward the window, staring down at the crowd gathered below, laughing and smiling. Why am I letting Tim run my mind again? I should be down there, moving on... 

I lean my forehead against the glass, looking down at the floor as I try to sort my thoughts. My eyes land on a little black notebook jammed behind my desk, attached to a dust bunny. It must've fallen down there...I lean over, pushing my desk out away from the wall and grabbing onto the leather-bound book. I brush off the dust, trying to figure out when I got this one. I flip open the pages, feeling my heart drop out of my chest. 

His handwriting and words coat each page... The pages are crinkled, like it's a prehistoric relic. The pages have yellowed, and the ink has dimmed, but his words are still as permanent. This must've been one of the notebooks he left me when he tried to kill himself... 

You're gonna run out of cigarettes
And we're gonna run out of wine
We haven't even started the good stuff yet
It's okay, we've got plenty of time
So pull up a comfortable chair, baby
And put on those records that drive me crazy
You look so good in this light
Oh yeah, you look like nothing but mine

I wanna love you like the world's gonna stop
Til the very last second, last tick of that clock
I'm gonna slow it all down and then take you from zero to ten
Oh, I wanna love you like I'll never love you again

I shut the notebook quickly, my heart pounding in my chest. I couldn't help but notice the date at the top of the page... It was the day we hooked up after we the divorced was finalized. I close my eyes, trying not to think about the context, but I can't help it. It's like I can hear him breathing in my ear, and the sound of him telling me that he needed me. I hit my knees, feeling tears push their way out as I lose the ability to breathe. 

I grab my chest, pressing my forehead against the hardwood while hearing myself howl. My arms shake, as I hear the cicadas. His voice echos in my mind, making me feel nauseous. 

"Faith, I was scared..." I place my hands over my ears, shaking my head quickly to try and force the sound out. "I can't lose you..." 

"Baby?" Weston lets out, resting his hand on my back. He kneels down beside me, while I tremble on the ground. "Honey, what's going on?" He asks gently. I force myself to breathe, my head feeling like it's spinning. 

"Mom, are you okay?" I hear Gracie release, rushing in. She kneels down beside him, running her fingers through my hair. I nod, sitting down and trying my best to catch my breath. She glances over toward where the book now lies, seeing a random page open after it fell from my hands. "That's Dad's handwriting..." She says quietly. Weston follows her eyes, looking at the notebook, before sighing. 

"It was lying on the ground... I... I didn't know it was..." I begin, before feeling a sickening feeling in my chest. They both nod, Gracie sparing me a forced smile. 

"That's alright." Gracie says, walking over and picking it up. She shuts it, and places it down on the desk. She stretches her hand out toward me, helping me onto my feet. I take a few deep breaths, collecting myself, before she hugs me tightly. Her hands slowly glide up and down my back, in a soothing manner. I shut my eyes, and tell myself that everything is going to be alright. 

Everything is going to be just fine...