Fool-hearted

I don't wanna be fool-hearted.
Baby, I'm out-numbered in my head.
I don't – I don't wanna be fool-hearted.
Baby, I'm out-numbered in my head.

It was times like this that made her wonder what love really was, and if she would ever have the chance to experience it.

Isabel Evans had found that once again, she had screwed up. Walking through a park in the middle of the night, her cheeks were slick with runny mascara and her body shook with the sobs of a girl whose heart was gradually blackening and slowly dropping out of her chest. Her inhalations constricted her, and all she could do was let out a guttural moan and a large sigh of relief when she finally made it across the darkest part the neighborhood to the tin can that she and her mother lived.

She quietly shut the door behind her and peeked over her shoulder to find her mother passed out in front of the TV, an empty bottle of vodka on the floor by the recliner her mother slept. The young woman shook her head in disdain and continued her way through the home to the bathroom where she stripped and stepped into the shower stall, reveling in the hot streams of water that soothed the aches in her sore body.

Yet again Isabel had believed that she had found a guy that would take care of her and give her everything she ever wanted, but again she let that fantasy of prince charming cloud her vision only to end up with her legs wrapped around his waist and her back against the headboard of his bed. Like every other man she had been with, he had only wanted her for the sex, and for the third time in two months, she was in the shower washing her body of an uncaring man's scent and attempting to scrub away a memory that would haunt her 'til her next mistake.

It was a cycle with her. Meet a handsome man, receive a smile from a cute guy at school, flirt with said male to receive a date or two, and a month later find herself adding another guy to the list and her reputation of serial monogamy continuing to supply ammunition to the gossip mill. It was terrible, she knew, but she couldn't muster the strength to stop her habits, and if she was honest with herself, she didn't want to. The only times she ever felt alive was in those moments of sexual exploration, and to stop that would mean to stop living, to stop being.


It was a couple months later that Isabel found herself sitting in her Aunt Diane's kitchen, eating a fresh batch of homemade cookies when the doorbell rang only to meet the most gorgeous green eyes she had ever laid her own upon. She had almost choked on her food, his eyes bore so deep into her, but she caught herself and invited him inside, to find that her Aunt knew the young man in question.

"Who is he?" Isabel whispered from next to her, where they watched him from the doorway to her uncle's home office while he attempted to fix her uncle's computer.

"Oh, he's Chuck Whitman's boy. He's a bit older than you, a college student. He attends the university in Las Cruces. He's a smart kid. Won numerous awards from his school and received a full academic scholarship to attend."

"Wow," was all Isabel could supply, finding herself staring at said young man's rear as he crawled underneath her uncle's desk to rewire the CPU. "Approximately, how old is he?" she couldn't help but to ask.

Diane, sensing a bit more intrigue than she would've thought to come from her niece, raised an eyebrow and asked, "Why? I would've have figured him not to be your type, though I have no qualms with you being interested!" She surrendered her hands slightly into the air. "Rather see you with someone who could give you a run for your money than some of the boys I see your runnin' 'round with."

Isabel shrugged her shoulders. "I don't believe in types," she replied shortly. "For a computer geek, he's cute. Gorgeous eyes, decent body, and a nice butt to go with it. If I were to possibly pursue him, I'd just like to know what legal statutes I might be breaking."

The girl's aunt fixed a disapproving frown on her face, having often times been of help to the girl in her time of need since her husband's sister couldn't provide her with it. Diane was well-versed with Isabel's reputation at school. And as much as she tried to speak to her about the dangers of having multiple partners and to keep her from having these meaningless relationships, it was up to her niece to do make the choice and do the right thing.

With an exasperated sigh, all Diane could say, "Don't make him your next conquest. He's a sweet boy, with a lot of potential. And though I will always love you unconditionally, try to help with the things you need, there are some things I just cannot take your side on."

Isabel stared at her aunt with a perplexed eye. "The guys are never the conquests, I am," she corrected bitterly. "All I want is a date with a guy who I believe to be nice, and if that requires a bit of reciprocation, then so be it. I just want a guy who will respect me, who won't write me off," she ended quietly, crossing her arms and looking down at the floor.

Diane let out another sigh and took her niece by the shoulders and led her back to the kitchen where she had been sitting. Gazing at her straight in the eye, she said, "Sexual favors do not equal reciprocation, Isabel. It's something I have been trying to get through your stubborn head since you first became sexually active." She stopped to take a breath and then concluded with defeat, "You want the guy to respect you, but you first need to respect yourself. If you can't do that, you're giving him the upper hand to walk all over you, to use you."

When she noticed Isabel's eyes beginning to water, Diane brought her into a simple embrace and rubbed her back when those watering eyes turned into sobs. She spoke softly into her ear, "I may not approve of the things you do, and that I tell you this all the time, but I will always love you. Just know that you are a beautiful, intelligent young woman, and that one day this behavior will cease, and you will then be 100 times the woman you all ready are." Pulling away, Diane swiped her thumbs across her niece's cheek and handed her a few tissues from her purse on the counter. "Now cheer up."

"Thank you," Isabel said, wiping the Kleenex across her nose. "Why couldn't you have been my mother?" she questioned earnestly.

"Each night I ask myself the same question, dear, but God works in mysterious ways." Isabel nodded, and Diane continued, "Well, I have some errands to run, so I'll be back in a bit," she grabbed her keys from the hook by the back door, "and, as always, you may stay here as long you'd like."

Isabel smiled and hugged her aunt again, then watched from the kitchen as her aunt left out the front door, but not before giving Isabel an encouraging wink. She laughed and headed up the corridor to fix her make-up in the bathroom, taking a quick glance into her uncle's office on the way to see that Alex–as she remembered him introducing–was seated at the computer, typing with impressive speed. When he realized that she was watching, she ducked out of sight before he could turn his head to see her giggling from behind her hands.

After touching up her mascara and lip gloss, Isabel retreated to the guest bedroom where she often stayed and took from her backpack a book she was reading for class. A half hour and ninety pages later she heard a soft knock on the open door and gazed up to find that Alex was standing at the doorway.

"You need something?" she politely queried, sitting up from where she lay on her stomach, placing a sticky note on the page where she had discontinued.

He didn't speak right away, but only stared at her but soon spoke up, "I've finished with your uncle's computer. Tell him, or your aunt, that I left some instructions up in a Word document for him to follow, if you could please."

She nodded, "Sure," and before she could stop herself she asked, "How old are you?"

"Uh, twenty-two," he answered and in return asked her the same, "You?"

"I'll be eighteen in a few weeks," she supplied and saw that he shifted on his feet uncomfortably. Inwardly, she giggled again at how awkward he seemed, but his eyes held such intensity that she couldn't deny that she found it incredibly sexy. Halting her thoughts, she pressed, "So that means you'll have your Bachelor's?"

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his baggy trousers and looked her in the eye then shyly stated, "Actually, I'll have finished my first year of grad school this coming May. It only took me three years to complete my bachelor's."

Izzie noticed how the blood flowed to the tips of his ears, realizing that he was actually embarrassed of his accomplishments. "Don't be ashamed of your achievements, Alex," she admonished. "That's really amazing. I bet your parents must be proud of you." She smiled softly at him when he silently nodded, then walked toward him where she leaned on the opposite side of the doorway. "So I assume your degree is in computers? You seemed fairly adept at fixing my uncle's."

He chuckled a bit with a beaming smile to accompany it. "Computers are really more of a hobby, though my entire family wanted me to go into the engineering aspect of it."

"Why didn't you?" Isabel asked, leading him down the hallway to the kitchen. "I mean, if you're good at something, shouldn't you make something of yourself by doing it?" She reached into the cabinet above the counter and retrieved two glasses. "Thirsty? What would you like?"

"Uh, water's fine, or juice if you have it." After she had poured and handed him a glass of Kool-aid, he downed half the glass before moving on, "Just because you're good at something doesn't mean you love it. I mean, yeah, I do enjoy computers, but I just didn't have such a passion for it that I wanted to make it a career, you know?" She nodded. "Like, my parents tried to push me into it, especially my mother, since I have always helped people with their technology, but that's just something I like to do. I simply like to help people."

"Well, it still looks as if your parents are proud of you; even if they would have rather you went a different route. You must have really known what you wanted to do to have finished your bachelor's so quickly."

He laughed coldly, "My parents like to brag about my spotless academic record, but they've disagreed with a lot of my post military academy plans. I didn't go into the Air Force – big no-no in my family. Since that fell through, they expected me to go into engineering, especially something that would get me to NASA. The look on my parents faces when I told them that I planned on a double major in Ethics and Psychology; you'd have thought I'd told them that I was gay."

She filled his glass again and joked, "Are you?"

The light returned to his eyes when he answered, "No, thank you very much. I have nothing against homosexuality, of course, but I can say that my parents tend to stick on the conservative side of things when it comes to personal issues and choices." He took a few sips of his drink and succeeded, "Enough about me. What about you? What are your plans?" He sat down on the stool next to the counter, staring up at her, waiting for her to speak.

Isabel looked to the floor at her bare feet, watching herself wriggle her toes, not necessarily blowing the question off, but trying to formulate a reply. Much like Alex, she was a great student with an excellent GPA and test scores, but with almost no extracurricular activities and only a few volunteer hours here and there, she hadn't received the full scholarship she had desperately needed to go to college. Though her Aunt Diane and Uncle Phillip had offered to help her out, they had three children of their own, two of which who planned on going to college, and she didn't feel right taking money out of her relatives' pockets when they had others to support.

Quietly, she admitted, "My plans consist of work, work, and more work. I mean, if I were to have gotten a full ride, hell I'd be heading to school in the fall, but I can't."

"What about partial scholarships and student loans? What are your grades like?" His curiosity was increasing with each word that escaped her soft, touchable lips. Her voice held a slight huskiness that he founded he couldn't get enough of.

"Unfortunately, it doesn't matter your academic standing if you don't have any extracurriculars. A straight-A student with excellent test scores can get you into any college in the country, Ivy League or otherwise, but without those activities, you're just the money that goes into their pockets. I've been working since I was 14, and I try to get as many hours as I can get, but since my mother can't be bothered to do so, I end up paying the bills just so we have a roof over our heads. I've thought about student loans, but at the moment they don't sound very appealing, and partial scholarships are just that – partial. I'm an all-or-nothing-kind-of-girl, Alex. I guess I'm stuck.

"I really need to get out of my current living situation, so that means I'll need an apartment or something. If I were to move out of this two-bit town, I'd need a mode of transportation besides walking or riding the bus all the time. Then if anything were to happen where I really needed cash, to be able to have that on hand would be a very nice convenience." She looked up to see that Alex's expression held sympathy. "I don't want your pity," she defended. "There are just needs that have to be fulfilled before I consider college, again."

Alex's heart had gradually fallen down into his stomach as he had watched the brightness in her beautiful brown eyes extinguish, and it made him sick to think that a young woman who had so much potential couldn't fulfill her dreams of academia.

Before he could stop himself, Alex got up from where he sat and walked around to the other side of the counter and embraced her. "Though I do not have the means to help you out, not that I'd believe you'd accept it, but I can give you support."

Though they were practically strangers, Isabel welcomed his long arms enveloping her body, and let her head rest against his chest. His cologne was wonderful, and the scent made her dizzy, but in a non-nauseatingly good way. Her heart beat hard beneath her ribcage and she grew very comfortable within his embrace, and prayed that he would never let go.


Due to a falling out with his parents, Alex had not stepped foot in Roswell for five years, but he received a phone call from his mother that his eldest brother was arriving home from Iraq the coming weekend and told him that he'd better make it his damn business to be there for Ben's homecoming. Knowing that his mother never left empty threats and that he and his parents could pretend for a few weeks that there was no altercation between them; Alex had figured that it was the perfect time for a vacation from his hectic schedule. He planned to spend a week in Roswell, and then spend a week in Mexico at a resort recommended by one of his colleagues, where his itinerary consisted of surf, sun, and much needed relaxation.

Upon arrival home, he was greeted by his parents with a stilted hello and his brothers had opted to crush him in rib-cracking bear hugs. His parents may not have agreed with his choices, but his brothers didn't give a rat's ass what he'd opted to pursue, as long as he was happy and still made wise-ass remarks at the most inopportune moments like he did when he was a kid. Though, he knew that this week would not be the best time to do so. He'd probably end up playing with his nieces and nephews in the backyard than stay in a room of sappy, crying adults.

It wasn't that he was unhappy that his brother was coming home, quite the contrary really. He was happy that Ben would be out of harm's way and that he was coming home in one piece, physically. Alex wasn't sure what his mental state would be after fighting in a war, but if his brother ever needed someone to talk to that didn't require 100.00 an hour, Alex was his man. It was just that out of all of his brothers, Ben had always made his life the most difficult. Their personal views diverged so much that often times they couldn't have a single conversation without it becoming an argument. His oldest brother also accused him of being gay on more than one occasion because Alex had always been a bit more in touch with his feminine side than everyone else. Basically, his dear brother Ben was his father's junior, and his father couldn't have been prouder.

The night of his brother's homecoming, Alex stood in the backyard with his second eldest brother Charlie's wife, holding their one year old son, Riley, making funny faces for him. His niece ran and hid behind his legs as his other nephew Clarence chased her through the yard, tripping in front of Alex but getting back up without any problem, continuing to go after little Kayla.

There was one thing about these gatherings that Alex always enjoyed, and those were his brother's children. At the moment, only he and Vince, the two youngest, didn't have any children. Throughout high school and college, Alex had dated inconsistently, only having ever brought home two girlfriends his entire life, but neither had lasted. Vince, on the other hand had one steady girlfriend all four years of high school who he broke up with graduation day, and in college had never even mentioned having a girlfriend. Alex suspected that his older brother was gay and hadn't come out to his family or that he just wasn't interested in dating and settling down like their parents wanted. Otherwise, Alex liked children very much and loved his nieces and nephews to death, but he preferred to be able to give them back to their parents at the end of the day.

Realizing that Riley was getting fussy, he handed him back to his mother and went inside to see that Diane Evans had stopped by to say welcome home and give his mother a cheesecake she had made.

"Hello there, Alex!" she greeted, bringing him into a gentle embrace and letting go to get a look at him. "My, have you always been this tall?" They both laughed and he nodded. "How are you?"

"I'm all right. Nice to be back in Roswell, though nothing's changed I see. How are you? Michael keeping out of trouble?"

"Oh, did you really expect it to?" she quizzed. "I'm good, and yes, all my children are keeping out of trouble, though Michael did have a run in or two with breaking and entering, but that was a few years ago. Luckily, Phillip and I were able to convince him to at least get an Associate's so that he can at least move up on the career ladder. We're open he'll go into business and open his own garage one day."

"That's good," Alex said; smiling at the woman he'd always wished his mother could have been more like. "Everyone else in the fam' good, too?"

"Yes! Max received his Bachelor's a couple years ago and is now at Dartmouth working on his medical degree, along with Liz Parker. You remember her? Jeff and Nancy's daughter?" Alex gave a vigorous nod. "Tess just received her degree in Fashion Design and was offered a job at a high-end New York designer in Manhattan and just got engaged to her long time boyfriend Kyle."

"That doesn't surprise me," Alex quipped. "She was always very ambitious."

"Phillip's all right. He's had some health problems recently, but we're hoping those will be alleviated soon. So we've changed our diets a bit and walk twice a day to keep our hearts healthy." Diane beamed and then inquired, "So I hear from your mother that you're contemplating opening your own practice?"

Alex was taken a back that his mother had remembered that little detail from the last time they had spoken, surprised that he even came up in conversation. "Yeah, give it a couple more years and I should have the resources and connections to do so. My hope is for it to be the go-to place for mental healthcare."

"Dreams never cease, dear, and I am happy to see that you continue to thrive and prosper."

"Yeah. . ." he trailed, but then asked the unavoidable question, "How's Isabel? I haven't spoken to her in three years, but the last I heard she was doing well."

The crestfallen expression on Diane's face made his breath catch in his throat, and all he could do was ask, "Is she all right? Did something happen?"

"You know, it's getting late and I need to get home, make sure Phillip's not cheating on his diet." Diane gave Alex an apologetic look and hugged Patricia, Alex's mother. "It was good seeing you Patty. We'll have to do lunch one of these days, and Alex, it was so nice speaking to you and seeing the young man you've become. Please do, stop home more often so that we can see you." Before officially leaving, Diane waved goodbye to the rest of the Whitman's and glanced over her shoulder to Alex with another unnerving face, and left.

If Alex wasn't stressed enough from being at home again, he was now that he knew that something was wrong with the woman he hadn't been able to release from his thoughts for the last five years.


It was the next night that Alex founded himself venturing to the convenient store to get a few necessities for his parents' home. It felt good to walk through the city, with a cool breeze at his neck and his hands deeply drawn into his pockets. It was like old times when he'd stop on his way home from school at the convenient store for a fruit roll-up, granola bar, and a 20 oz. of orange soda.

He entered and saw that Mr. Jenkins, the old WWII veteran who owned the store, working on a pyramid of canned goods in the middle of the small store. Careful not to startle him, Alex made himself visible to the senior citizen.

"I'll be damned, if it isn't the youngest of the Whitman clan," his raspy voice exclaimed, resting his elbows on the top of the ladder. "How are ya, old boy?"

"I'm well, sir. How are you?"

"Eh, still fighting these pesky teen punks who feel the need to rob me of my goods, but I continue to grouch them right out of my store. What a night it's been, though. Seeing to of me favorite customers in the same night; it must be my lucky day," he cackled, and all Alex could do was laugh.

"Yeah, and who is this other customer?"

"Right behind ya, boy."

Alex stopped mid-turn when he saw the shocked face of Isabel Evans behind him, a small basket in her hand, minimally filled with miscellaneous items. "Isabel?" Though he knew it was her, it was baffling to him that after having her on his mind for years that he would run into her here so late in the night.

"Hi," she softly said, not stepping closer.

Alex walked toward her and she continued to stay put, the incredulous expression still upon her face. As he got closer, he noticed something he hadn't expected . . . she was pregnant.

"Wow," he breathed when he got close enough to really get a look at her. "Um, it's great to see you." He eyes darted down at her enlarged abdomen, where she then rested one of her hands and moved the basket to her left side.

Although pregnant, Isabel was still a very beautiful woman. He had seen many pregnant women since having worked at a private family practice for the last few years, and many had a tendency to gain weight everywhere. But besides having larger breasts, Isabel only seemed to have put on about 20 pounds around her abdomen. The glow that is often rumored and seen on many expectant mothers' faces was not there on hers. Her eyes seemed dead, like her entire world had crashed down around her.

Trying to be friendly he questioned, "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

He thought the question was innocent enough, but it seemed to have triggered something so bad in Isabel that she dropped her basket and quickly left the store, leaving Alex standing there in shock.

"What'd you do, boy?"

Alex turned to Mr. Jenkins who had stopped working on his display and stared at the sliding doors at the front entrance. "I don't know, sir. I really don't know."


It had taken Alex a couple days to track Isabel's address, but having pried it out of her aunt, Alex now stood in Roswell Haciendas, at apartment 5C. Inhaling deeply, Alex cautiously knocked and hoped that she would answer her door.

When he heard the lock click and the door knob turn but no one there, he gently pushed the door open and entered, closing the door shut behind him. He wondered for a moment where she was, or if she was waiting to strike him or something, but he wandered down a short corridor where he the closer he got the bedroom ahead, the louder Isabel's cries became.

Opening the door, he discovered her sobbing into her pillow on what he assumed to be her bed, and the only thing he could do was go over to her and make her sit up. Where she fell into his chest and soaked his shirt with her tears. For an hour he sat with her in his arms, his own eyes watering at how distraught she was.

Once she was calmed down, Alex stared her straight in the eye and said, "Tell me everything that happened after the last time we spoke."

Alex had found her number while going through his things when he was moving to a new apartment a few years ago, and had called her. When he had spoken to her, she had sounded so happy. Like her heart was bursting at the seams with all consuming passion and joy. Seeing her now though, all he could think was what had gone so wrong that what once had her smiling ear to ear had left her in heap of sobs?

He wiped her nose with his handkerchief and let her keep it. Her nose and eyes were both red and her cheeks incredibly flushed, but she spoke, "You know, when you last called me, I was so happy. I was going to attend UNM. I had paid my dues was getting the chance to make something of myself. And I had the most perfect boyfriend I could ever imagined having. When everything was so perfect, it really wasn't.

"It was two weeks after I had talked to you that I went up to UNM to pay my tuition. I worked my ass off to earn that money, that I was waiting tables 60 hours a week, taking anyone's shift who fell ill or when we were short-staffed. I was exhausted, but the satisfaction of having earned the cost of two years worth of college tuition and books had me elated. I was all signed up for my classes when I went to the cashier to pay with my debit, and she swiped my card and I was ready to sign when she said that my card wouldn't take.

"I had all these different thoughts running through my head about why my debit wouldn't slide. The cashier tried again three times and I told her to let the other students through while I make a phone call to my bank. So I went outside, sat on the bench, and dialed the authorized number. When it picked up and I typed in all the information needed, it said that my account had no money in it!"

"Damn," Alex swore, then urged her to go on.

"I called my boyfriend, Jesse, to ask him to check something for me, but he didn't answer his phone. So I drove home from the school and got to my apartment to find my door wide open. Without thinking, I ran inside and all the nice things I was finally able to get myself, they were all gone. All my electronics, the furniture that the apartment had come with, the important payers I kept in my closet were all over the floor; even my personal effects had been ransacked. So not only was I completely broke, my place was no longer my home.

"Jesse was a con artist. He took everything, even the doll that my aunt and uncle gave me for my fifth birthday. I found his cell phone on the floor, shattered to pieces."

"Isabel, God, I'm so sorry that happened to you," he breathed, his ears were practically steaming that someone would intentionally do this to her.

"The land lord let me stay until I could find a new place, but I was too devastated to even go to work, so I called my aunt, told her what happened, and had her come get me. He took my dignity, Alex. All that I had worked so hard to build outside and within myself was gone, and I was fell so hard for it. I started sleeping around again, trying to numb the pain, smoked and drank. I'd come home drunk at least three times a week. I'd never been able to hold my liquor well. My Aunt Diane would have to care for me in the morning, my hangovers were so bad. This went on for a year and a half, Alex – a year and half."

"We do everything we can to cope, but many times the way we cope may be even worse than what happened in the first place." The Psychiatrist in him supplemented, and again he asked her to carry on, to finish.

She put a pillow behind her and leaned against the wall, placing her hands on her enlarged belly, caressing it. Taking a breath, she said, "I think Gretchen was right when she said some people are born with tragedy in their blood."

Alex laughed, "I used to think that was sort of an exaggeration, but when you go into healthcare you learn, whether mental or physical issues, it's true."

"So I had finally begun to rebuild my life. I had finally taken my aunt and uncle's offer to help me through school when I met Sean DeLuca."

Alex raised an eyebrow in question, "DeLuca? He wouldn't happen to be related to Maria DeLuca, would he?"

"In fact, he is. She's his cousin. I met him through her when she and Michael began dating. And yes, they are an odd couple, but somehow, it works."

"Your aunt didn't mention that Michael was dating Maria "Hurricane" DeLuca."

Isabel giggled at the nickname, remembering her uncle once similarly calling the ball of energy that was Tess the natural phenomenon of Supernova. "Well it fits; but anyway, I began dating Sean about a year ago. The difference between Sean and many of the other guys I've ever been with was that his background is just another extreme of my own, and it was like this mutual attraction. It wasn't instant, but very slow, in the manner of speaking a few months.

"Since Jesse, I have a lot of problems letting a guy remotely close to me, except you of course, but my instincts were telling me to trust him."

"He didn't betray that, did he?" Alex couldn't help the jealousy that rose within him at the mention of either of the two men's names.

"For once, a guy didn't. I mean we had fun together, but it soon became apparent to us we were much better as friends than a couple, and we both found we were okay with that. Unfortunately, that realization came a few weeks too late."

"You found out you were pregnant." She nodded. "Is he still around?"

"Well, he was. We had decided to keep the baby, and that we would continue to be friends that as long as we both stuck around, we could come up with a routine."

"Was?"

"Sean suffered from a heart condition, and six weeks ago we were about to cross the street when a guy came speeding 'round the corner. Sean pushed me out of the way and he was hit. He died instantly." Tears rimmed her eyes once more and all the memories of his death came flooding back.


His week in Roswell was up, and the only person on his mind for the last 24 hours was Isabel. He loved that they could catch up in a night on five years of worth of life stories and events. He stood outside Roswell Haciendas, leaning against his red Lancer with his arms crossed and his brows creased in deep concentration.

Exhaling, Alex stepped toward the complex and went through the maze of buildings and up the steps to 5C, where he used the knocker and waited, nervously bouncing on the balls of his heels, hands in his pockets.

Isabel came to the door and smiled when she saw him. "Come in," she said, opening the door farther to let him pass. "Came to say goodbye?" she quietly asked, not really looking him in the eye.

He took a few deep breaths and maneuvered around to face her, placing his hands up as if to demonstrate something. He then said, "Actually, there's been a change in my plans."

"Oh, was there a mix-up with the reservation at the resort you're going to?" She was perplexed by why that would affect her, but let him proceed.

"Not quite. Uh, my reservation is still set, but instead of a solo excursion . . . it's a duo, even a trio if you consider that my traveling partner is eating for two," he rushed out, the tips of his flushed.

Isabel almost dropped the glass that she had been drying in her hands and stared incredulously at Alex. "You – you want me to come to Mexico with you?"

"No," Alex began, taking the glass and rag from her hands, throwing them on the couch, and squeezing her hands in his own, "I want you to come to Mexico, then come live with me in Massachusetts."

Her eyes widened in complete shock and her hands shot out of his to her mouth. "What about my job? My apartment lease?"

"They have you put first and last month's rent for a reason. You said last night that you needed a fresh start. You're going to have a baby in a few months, and what means do you have to take care of her? Her father sacrificed himself to save yours and her life, and would want that baby to have everything that she needed."

"You're volunteering to help care for another man's child?" Isabel interjected, absolutely baffled as to what had gotten into Alex.

"I-I know I sound absolutely crazy right now, but I – I have never stopped thinking of you! Since we first met when you were 17 and I was 22, you have been in every other one of my thoughts. And I am giving you a chance to escape! Whether we last or not, I know we'll always be there for each other. So take it or leave it, Iz, because I have scrounged up the courage to ask you now, and it could be a whole other lifetime before this offer's out on the table again."

Her bottom lip quivered and her eyes flooded into blurriness as she gazed at him from where he stood with his cheeks flushed and stray tears gracefully trailing his cheeks. Without preamble, Isabel placed both of her hands on either side of his face and brought his lips to hers. He pulled her closer, feeling her stand on her toes due to him towering five inches above her, and deeper invested the kiss. Neither of the two had ever felt so strong a connection to anyone in their lives, and there was something about the way her curved body meshed with his lanky frame that made all the more indisputable.

Breaking the kiss, she whispered, "Yes."


Isabel didn't remove her attention from the bundle in her arms when Alex came in with a refilled pitcher of water to put on the nightstand of their bedroom. Though the child wasn't his, Isabel was amazed at how attentive Alex was to her and how much he acted as if she were his from the get-go.

The baby girl stirred and stretched her arms, to which Alex reached his pinky out where the she gripped it in the air. "What a strong hold," he whispered, looking to Isabel where her face was still quite red and her hair in a sweaty disarray from the delivery, but her smile was so bright that he ignored all of it.

A few minutes later one of the midwives came in to take the baby's weight and other statistics, and Isabel gently handed her Abigail. Alex watched her wriggle and fuss when she was taken from the warmth of her mother's arms, and grinned when the healthy set of lungs she demonstrated only a little bit ago showed their potential once again. He saw from the corner of his eye as Isabel relaxed exhaustively into the pillows against the headboard of the bed. He was happy that they'd opted for a home birth, mainly because neither was too keen on hospitals, but this had worked out better than either could have imagined.

It was later that night when the midwives had left, everything was cleaned, and the baby was asleep in her bassinette that Alex finally crawled under the covers beside Isabel, where she slept peacefully, and lightly kissed her forehead. About to turn out the light, he saw that a romance novel that he had never seen before lay on top of the nightstand. Though he was tuckered out, his curiosity got the best of him and he decided to look at the last page to see how it ended. Upon reading it, he somewhat smiled that the ending line wasn't completely cheesy, and founded that he actually agreed with it:

"Love endures. Love makes you hope. Love sometimes brings you pain. I wouldn't change anything at all. I'm just happy to have found it."

Song excerpt from Anna Nalick's "In My Head."