Chapter Text
He came around the corner, caught sight of her and stopped. She was seated on a bench just a few yards from him. On her lap, a small child squirmed as the woman’s fingers tightened the laces of two tiny shoes. From where he stood he could only see their profiles but he knew absolutely that it was her, despite her hair having grown and the age that three years…was that right? three years?…worth of time had etched into her face.
Leah. That was her name. Leah.
He remember how differently her name sounded when she said it. That Midwestern accent cutting hard at the vowels: Lee-yah. Not nearly as soft and subtle as how he pronounced it, the rare times he said it.
“Lay-ah”
Her name escaped from his lips the second he remembered it. The airy word reached his ears and pushed a memory forward in his mind: Her short hair contrasted against blue bedsheets. Her warm body underneath his, rocking with him. Her fingers gripping his forearms, the tips just beginning to push into his flesh. An audible smile in her voice as she gasped and moaned.
He blinked and felt the weight of the memory sag into his arms and back as he let escape a sigh.
Focusing on her, he watched Leah push the girl gently from her lap. He was close enough to hear her say “Better?” nodding to the child’s shoes which lifted and stomped the concrete path in response, a bright smile bursting across the child’s face. Separated from Leah’s body, the child’s features were clearly visible to him: the mop of curly copper-colored hair, the vivid blue-green eyes, the pale skin. All features that one could say came from Leah herself.
It was the child’s mouth, those little mountain peaks and the full valley below, that held his attention. Leah’s mouth was large but her lips were thin. No, it was clear that the mouth was a gift from the girl’s father.
“All right? And we’re off!” Leah said, rising and clasping her daughter’s hand.
His own hand closed in on itself. As his fingertips pressed into his palm, something heavy and empty filled his gut and he suddenly gasped, unaware that he’d been holding his breath.
She was nearly to the end of the block. The urgency to run after her was strong but he couldn’t move.
Swallow.
Inhale.
“Lay-ah?”
Her feet stopped abruptly. Her head tilted up – as if to attention – and then quickly looked down to the child at her side.
A bit louder. Step forward. “Lay-ah.”
She turned her head over her shoulder while gently pulling the child’s hand closer to her body. Her eyes met his. The recognition was immediate.
The corners of her mouth crept slowly up as she turned her body to face him.
“Ben.”