‹ Prequel: Trouble-Maker
Sequel: Summer Boy

Infinite

To Save His Dreams

It was barely morning when I was roused from my empty bed, sans Charlie, by Arch, who was standing next to it, shouting about the phone blaring and how it could be Ronnie, who hadn't called again last night. I groaned and rolled over, reaching for my cell phone that was charging on the nightstand.

Arch climbed into my bed and sat next to the dog as I answered it. "Hello?" I asked, my eyes still closed, sensitive to the light of the screen in the darkness.

"Atticus, it's Max," my brother said frantically from the end of the line, instantly rousing me from bed and setting panic into my bones, It's Gina, she's in the hospital. They think there's something wrong with the baby. Please, hurry."

I practically jumped out of bed and gathered my things, slipping into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt as I responded to my brother, promising that we would be there soon. I slid the little device into my pocket and then turned back to Arch, who was terrified and tearing up.

"It's alright, baby," I said, pulling him into my arms, "We just have to get you some shoes and a jacket and we're going to the hospital."

"What's wrong?" he asked as I carted him into the bedroom, "Who's at the hospital?"

"My mom," I replied, setting him on the bed so I could get socks and shoes on him. He didn't fight me, and I could tell that he was scared of the hospital and relieved that someone closer to him wasn't the one there. I pulled him to the floor and pushed his arms through one of his jackets and then picked him up again, pressing a kiss against his forehead.

Charlie followed us down stairs, barking angrily as if he knew something was wrong. He jumped and whined as we headed out, locking him back inside. Arch, sensitive to the dog, shouted out to him, "It's okay, Charlie," he promised as I shut the door, "It'll all be okay."

I tucked Arch into his car seat and buckled him in before getting into the front. Quickly, I dialed the number for comfort and listened for the sound of his voice, upset when it went to voicemail.

"Ron, it's me," I said, although that much was obvious, "Gina's in the hospital. Something about the baby. I just- I needed to hear your voice. I'm absolutely terrified. I love you. I'll call you soon." I hung up and continued the drive to the Pasadena General Hospital, pulling up to the door closest to the Maternity ward. Gina was very pregnant now, and I was incredibly nervous for her and the unborn baby.

Arch and I tore inside. The clock above the station said it was five AM, but the nurses seemed awake and ready. Holding Arch in one arm, I pressed my palm against the counter and waited impatiently for someone's attention.

One of the nurses turned around and looked at the two of us. It was obvious that we were frightened so she smiled softly, comfortingly, and asked what we needed.

"I'm looking for Gina Gurewitz," I said quickly, "She's my mother."

The nurse nodded and checked something before looking back up to us. "She's down the hall, to the left, room 83."

I nodded frantically and lugged Arch with me. We barreled down the hall towards the room and almost collided with my little brother, who looked more distraught than I'd ever seen him before. "Max," I breathed, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. I pulled back and looked into his dark eyes, needing answers. "Is she okay? Is the baby okay?"

Max shook his head, confused, and then shrugged. "We don't know," he muttered frustratedly, "They don't know anything either, or if they do, they won't tell us. We don't even know if the baby is alive at this point. Dad is losing his mind. Frida had to take Nico for a walk, she doesn't understand anything that's happening."

I put my hand on his shoulder and breathed deeply, willing him to calm down before he gave himself an aneurysm. "Max, relax, it's going to be alright. Gina is tough and this baby is a Gurewitz, you know it's going to pull through."

"We don't even know what's happening," he rebutted, worrying himself sick, "I can't believe that nobody realized something was wrong. I thought doctors were supposed to monitor these things?"

"Max, they can't be watching all the time, this could've happened quickly, within minutes. We don't even know how this happened or what's happening, it could be over already."

He nodded lightly, trying to believe my words. If anything, family was everything to Max. He was the only boy in a family of girls, the second man of the house, and he always looked after us. When Frida was born, he stayed up all night with his fingers crossed in hopes of a little brother, but the minute he saw her, she had him. And then came Nico and he was lost to her. She was the most perfect thing that he'd ever seen, even if she was a girl.

Max was my baby brother, but he was also one of my best friends and closest relatives. He was the one, although he had his phases, that could always be counted on in a time of need. He worried too much about things like this and couldn't see the 'okay' on the horizon, because he loved us too much, and loved the unborn baby too much.

I coerced him into one of the chairs and sat Arch next to him. They were both quiet and calculating, but Arch continued to whisper words of encouragement as time passed. Within a half hour, Frida reappeared with Nico, who was almost asleep and I took the little girl and let her doze in my arms, even though she was dead weight - and heavy.

We sat lined up along the wall outside our step-mother's room. The five of us were family and we felt the terror of losing one of us before we would even get the chance to meet him or her. Ronnie called back and promised to be on the next flight out, but I stopped him and decided that having him on the phone was good enough for now. We were stronger together, but his voice made me courageous enough.

So us six, the kids of our family, waited to hear what was going on with our seventh member and our mother. Our dad finally appeared after an hour or so and he looked relieved rather than sad, so we were too.

"Everyone is all right," he said, crouching down in front of us, "The baby was distressed because it wasn't getting enough blood and oxygen, they're not sure why, but they managed to help her before anything worse could happen."

We were all thankful, but Frida grinned, picking up on something we hadn't noticed in our eagerness to hear the outcome. "You said 'her'," she said, looking at our dad with wide eyes, "She's a girl?"

Dad sighed and nodded, obviously not planning on letting that slip out. He explained while we cheered and Max groaned, yet another sister on the way. "We were planning on keeping it a secret," Dad said over the sound of our cheers, "But I guess the cat is out of the bag."

"A little girl," I breathed, imagining another one of us, "Another Gurewitz girl. I bet she's going to be beautiful."

Dad nodded. "I know she will be," he said, "Just like the rest of my beautiful children."

Despite my apprehension about my father and step-mom having another baby at their age, when it was almost my time, I couldn't imagine anything happening to the little girl that would soon be tangibly and completely my sister. I didn't want anything to happen to her or for anyone to hurt her, ever. She was one of us now, and we would stick by her for the rest of her life.

I felt selfish in that moment between getting Max's call and knowing that everything was okay. Part of me wondered if the universe was listening and twisting what I thought I wanted. That maybe, since I was so terrible, they were trying to make it right, like they thought I wanted. I prayed to the universe that she would be okay because I couldn't have lived with myself knowing she wouldn't be.

Frida, always the first to spit out whatever was on her mind, grinned and questioned, "So, have you and Gina picked out any names yet?"

Dad laughed, exhausted, and shrugged his shoulders. "We've got a few in mind. I was sort of hoping for a boy, so I picked out more boy names than girls'."

Max chuckled. "So lets hear them," he said, "Maybe one of those boy names will fit her. Who knows, maybe she'll inherit Atticus' tomboy phase permanently."

Dad continued, "For girls, we were thinking Madison, Margaret, Ginny, or Jada." He looked to us expectantly, and Frida answered before he could even ask.

"Those are all so boring," she commented, "And they don't fit the pattern. I mean, is she was a boy you could pick any old name because there's no pattern with 'Max', but you've got to live up to 'Atticus', 'Frida', and 'Nico Moon'."

"And what do you suggest, Frida?" I questioned, looking at her pointedly. Max leaned forward and glared at her over me, obviously not liking the insult directed at his name.

"His legal name is Maxamilian," Dad rebutted, offended by how commonplace Frida had summed his name up as.

"Kahla, Mernia, Calpurnia!" she sputtered over him, "I don't know! Just something that has a little personality. Something worthy of being a Gurewitz name. Something very… Dad-like."

Our father chuckled and shook his head, unable to think of anything that would live up to our sister's standards. We knew that he would come up with something before it was actually time to brand her with it. Even with Frida and the rest of us, he did the naming because it came so natural to him.

"Honestly though," Frida continued, "You should just let me name her. I could probably find something that would fit her better anyway. She is my baby sister, after all."

"I think I have this covered, Frida," Dad argued, not letting her anywhere near the naming process due to the dousies she'd just thrown out on a whim. "I've got a few that I'm not ready to share yet, either."

He quieted down and looked over us as we sat in a very tired row. Ronnie had long been dismissed from the phone to go back to bed and the two youngest clunked out without permission. Frida, Max, and I struggled to keep our eyes open, but I won easily, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Finally able to relax, Max succumbed to tiredness.

Dad stood up and pulled Nico from me. "Why don't you get going," he suggested, "You need to get Arch home before you're too tired to drive. Thank you for coming, though, it means a lot to Gina and I."

"You're my family," I said, "I'll always be here for a Gurewitz."

He faltered, "Even when you're not one anymore?"

I lightly touched the ring that circled my finger. "Once a Gurewitz, always a Gurewitz, Dad." I smiled and turned back to lug Arch up from the terribly uncomfortable and ugly chair. He was too tired to rebut, but groaned as he shifted.

"Love you, Dad," I said as I brushed past him, "Make sure you pass that onto the rest of them. Including my new sister."

I carted Arch out of the hospital much slower than we'd gone in. We didn't see Gina at all, but just knowing she was okay was enough for now. In the afternoon, Arch and I would head back and check on my family, our family.

Realization hit me while walking out of the hospital and I couldn't suppress it. I stared at the little boy sleeping sluggishly in my arms, and couldn't help but make a decision so definite that even I couldn't change my own mind. I strapped him in and we headed home, both of us incredibly tired from the day and the scariness of the night.

My phone buzzed in the cupholder and I checked it when I got us home and in bed. Ronnie was most likely out by now, but his sleepy text had me smiling, and thinking, as I went back to sleep for another couple of hours.

The little boy woke me up around noon from all the noise he was making downstairs. I slowly shuffled out of bed and walked out to the banister, looking down at him. He sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, his hoard of metal cars laid out in piles, and his eyes glued to the TV as two monster trucks smashed into each other. Arch copied it with his blue truck and yellow Lamborghini, sound effects included.

"Hey, Arch," I greeted softly through a yawn as I stepped downstairs, "How long have you been awake?"

He turned to look over his shoulder at me, one of his cars dropping to his lap. "Not that long," he piped, "But the monster truck show was on and I had to watch it."

I grabbed for the remote and turned the sound down. "I see that. Are you hungry? It's almost the afternoon already, we should head out and check on Gina and the baby."

He spared one guilty look at the TV and then nodded, getting to his feet so that he could follow me into the kitchen. "Can I just have cereal?" he questioned, plopping down at the kitchen table, "I'm not that hungry."

I nodded and plucked a box from the top of the fridge. I grabbed two plastic bowls from the cupboard and filled his with milk before walking it over to him, along with a spoon.

"Be careful," I said as he pulled open the cereal box, "I'll be right back. I'm going to call my dad and see what everyone is up to."

He nodded distractedly and dived into his overflowing bowl. I headed back to get my phone and stopped automatically on my way back down. I put my hand to my head, almost trying to hold myself up, as I closed my eyes and felt the world spin around me.

When it was over, I frowned and then shook it off, having other things to deal with and worry about today. I dialed my father's cell number and waited for someone to answer, surprised that it only took a couple rings.

"Atticus, did you get some sleep?" he questioned as he answered the phone, by-passing the part of the conversation that started with a greeting.

"Yeah, Dad," I said, "How's Gina and G5?"

"That's a new one," he laughed, "Frida has been spitting names and nicknames at us all day, but that's a good one. I might actually use that. And they're fine," he added, sensing my impatience, "Gina is just super tired from all the worrying and she's sleeping. The baby has been active like she should be and she has a strong heartbeat. The doctors are letting Gina come home in just a couple hours. They're just waiting on a blood report."

I nodded as he talked, thankful to hear that everything was actually okay now that they knew what had happened. I knew it was incredibly dangerous for unborn babies to get stressed in the womb. It could cause a couple things to happen and in turn, they could hurt themselves.

"Arch and I want to be there when you get home," I said, still sitting on my bed, "We could all have lunch at the house and just relax, as a family. And I need the details for Gina's baby shower."

"Atticus, I don't think that she's planning on having one," he rebuffed, surprising me. Gina was the kind of woman who would've liked the attention it gave her.

"Why not?"

"Because, Atticus, at our age we have the money to just buy the things that the baby will need and we're so busy there's really no time to plan or to execute."

I groaned lightly and shook my head at their lack of idea. "Dad, she's having a baby shower. It's not just about getting stuff, it's about celebrating an addition to our family. So we're having one. You write me a guest list by tonight, I'll get it done."

"Atticus, no, you have enough on your plate already, what with Arch and work and Ronnie gone. You don't need something else to take up more of your time."

"With Ronnie gone it's like I'm free of another kid," I joked, "So I have plenty of time to get this done. I don't have another band to see for three days, so don't worry about it." I hurried up and ended the conversation before he could argue with me some more. I hung up and took the phone downstairs with me, now able to pass along good news to Arch, who was slurping the milk from his bowl and reaching blindly to stick his little fingers into the cereal box.

"Everyone is doing just fine," I said as I walked back in, catching his attention, "We're going over there in a couple hours and we have to stop at a few stores, so I want you upstairs, dressed, and ready to go in 30 minutes, got that?"

He peered past me at the little clock. 12:37

"Fine," he agreed easily and dropped from his chair, "But I don't want to take a shower." He marched past me, into the living room, and then I watched as he bounded up the stairs towards his bedroom.

I cleaned up after him, dropping the bowl in the sink, and then fed Charlie, who was laying just below. He perked up happily a the sound of his food, and I followed Arch upstairs. I knew he was capable of picking out his own leisure clothes, so I let him, and headed into my room to change my own attire.

I grabbed a pair of slim fitting, white-washed jeans and a loose, flowing green tank-top just showed just a little of my mid-riff. I pulled my hair down from the bundle I forced it into yesterday, and crimped it using hairspray and my hands.

I was doing my makeup in the bathroom when Arch appeared from his bedroom. He wore dark jeans and a colorful striped t'shirt that was intentionally faded. His hair was an utter mess, but he looked otherwise presentable.

"Hair," I commented, watching with an easy smile as he tried to tame it with his hands. When he saw me shake my head, he huffed and reached for the brush on the counter.

We were out of the house within ten minutes. I grabbed a pair of mint colored Converse to match my tank and Arch located his favorite red, low-top shoes. I grabbed his hand and we headed out before anything more could distract him.

"Where are we going first?" he asked as he headed downtown.

"There's a little girl's shop not to far from here, I want to pick up a couple things to show Gina," I explained, having taken full responsibility for her shower, "And then there's a maternity store around there too, so we'll run in there."

Arch frowned and I caught a glimpse of it in the mirror.

"What's wrong?" I asked lightly.

"I don't have a brother or sister," he complained, thinking about it, "You have a whole bunch and I have none."

I tried not to coo at him. "That's because you're an only child," I said, holding myself back from giving him the 'your mommy and daddy loved you so much that they only wanted you' line. "That makes you even more special, Babe."

He rolled his eyes. "You're just saying that, Atticus."

I smiled and shook my head. Within five minutes more, we pulled up outside a little boutique and I lugged Arch from the car, putting him on the cement and taking his hand. We went inside and the lady behind a row of children's blankets greeted us.

The little place was full of things for little girls. It was the sister store to the one further downtown and was packed from wall to wall with toys ranging from typical girl to rebellious tomboy. Arch launched himself over to a doll house fill with pieces. I headed over to the invitation section.

"Planning a shower?" the lady questioned as she walked up to me, "Yours?" She smiled politely and brushed her long, whitening hair over her shoulder. She was shorter than me, which was hard to do a lot of times, and wore clothes that were just slightly too big for her full frame.

"Oh no," I said quickly, pushing the idea away, "It's for my mother. She's the pregnant one."

The lady looked surprised. "Oh, I would never have guessed," she replied, "It's not everyday that women are courageous enough to venture back into motherhood at an older age, especially when her previous children have children." She glanced back at Arch, who made crashing sounds as he knocked down the stackable doll house.

"Arch!" I snapped automatically.

He looked up over the top of the toy with innocent blue eyes.

The lady chuckled lightly as I groaned, already apologizing.

"Don't worry about it," she brushed it off, "I know how boys are. Given the opportunity, or even the slightest bit of leeway, they find something to knock down, break apart, or throw."

I nodded glumly as Arch weaved his way over to us, looking guilty and stunted. "That sounds like him," I stated, watching as he walked up with his hands in his pockets and stood at my side, looking strangely at the woman across from him.

The owner smiled at him and then turned back to me. "Your mother," she said, getting us both on track, "What number child is this?"

"Well," I said, thinking about her first child, "She had one before she met my father and then she had one with him," I explained, "So the line of whether or not to include her son is a little fuzzy."

She nodded and patted my arm. "Then perhaps you should just go with one that doesn't express how many there are exactly and instead the gender of the child." She turned and looked at me for a reaction.

I nodded slowly, piecing through the options, all colored pink.

"So you're going to have a new baby sister," she said as Arch tried to sneakily step away, "It must be strange that your son's aunt is going to be younger than him."

I peaked at Arch as he grabbed a fistful of Legos. "It's a little strange," I agreed, turning back to the invitations, "But family is still family even if the dynamics are screwed up."

I picked through a couple of the invitation options without really seeing anything that caught my eye. Arch tore through an entire set up of American Girl Dolls and then raced back as one fell and its hair got tangled in the other's plastic fingers. I gave him a look after that, daring him to step away from my side again.

I ended up buying a sample card of an invitation so I could show my step-mom and then Arch and I headed back home, deciding against the second store due to the catastrophe the five year old created in the last one. I was sure that we couldn't meet another owner as laid back as this one had been.

Despite his accidental destructive nature, Arch was a great kid. He listened well, if you made him, and he apologized quickly and for everything. He left my sight and broke things all to often, but he usually returned within minutes and the damage was always fixable.

As we drove back to my father's house in Pasadena, I asked, "Do you realize that it's been about a week and a half since you've attended Nicolas?"

He grinned and nodded eagerly. "It's like a real summer," he voiced, trying to push up in his seat but being held down by the straps.

"You have to go back soon," I rebutted, watching his face fall, "You can't spend all day everyday with me."

"Why not? I like being with you," he stated, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're fun and we go and do things."

"You do things at school too," I argued, "Plus, Silvi misses you."

"So," he muttered, "And I miss Ronnie."

"We all miss Ronnie, Arch, but we keep doing the things that we're supposed to do because we're supposed to do them. We can't shut down every time Ronnie leaves us. We'll be robotic for quite awhile in that case."

Instead of mentioning the absent singer again, Arch just stated that he didn't want to go back to school. He liked it well enough, but wanted to be out and about with me, seeing the bands and meeting the people and running into them at parks near dams and playgrounds. He was a wild-child and school couldn't fulfill his summer plans.

Honestly, I didn't have the heart to not give him what he asked for due to a certain absent mother reappearing forcefully in his life. Their reunion was set for just four days from now at the house, and Arch was trying the best he could to forget all about it.

She was set to come over around lunch and eat with us and in a perfect world, hers, Arch would show her all his favorite things and his bedroom, and his toys and movies and she'd hug and kiss him and tell him a story about why she had to leave him and he would forgive her and they would start by being friends.

Part of me, though. Most of me, wanted him to slam his bedroom door in her face and demand that she leave him alone, leave us alone. It was selfish of me, and I could blame it all on the fact that it's what is 'best for him', but I also didn't want to share him. Didn't want him to think that it's alright for parents to walk in and out of your life like you don't need them. Like my mother had done, and Ronnie's mother, and Arch's.

Parenting was hard, I had learned that from the first few years of my father's attempts at it. But I also learned, through parenting someone else's child, that it got easier and the only way to get better at it was to actually stick around.

Arch, Ronnie, and I had bad track records with mothers. And that might've had something to do with the way I felt about Abigail Drewry and her reappearance in the little boy's life.

We pulled through the gate of my father's house and Arch cheered in excitement. He loved everything about the building, the secret back rooms, the pool, the patio, and the oversized kitchen that hardly got used. He loved the banister stairs, pushed against each wall and curling, and the idea of growing up here, like some fantasy that he wasn't allowed to have.

We headed inside, knowing that they all were here due to the cars in the circular driveway, and towards the family room to the right. Gina sat on the couch, her stomach largely over-sized for her tiny frame, and the family sat around her talking names and toys and bedroom decorations.

"Hey guys," I greeted as we stepped in and interrupted. I peered at my step-mother and smiled, wrapping my arms around her shoulders from behind. "Glad to hear that everything is alright. We were ready to beat up some doctors for information if they didn't hurry their butts up."

She nodded, smiling and looked at our family. "I was counting on that," she said, peering at Arch as he peered over the couch, "But everything's alright now. She's perfect in there and relaxed like she should be."

"Yeah, well she better enjoy it," I muttered, "She doesn't have long left in there."

"Just about a month," Dad chimed in. He was practically glowing at the idea of meeting his daughter. Over the years, he'd learned what family meant to him and how precious it was to have a new addition, especially one that didn't come with a track record and tattoos.

"Ronnie's coming home to meet her too," I said, not really surprising them, but catching them off guard, "You guys know how he is about babies. He already thinks that she's the greatest little Gurewitz ever. He just about had a conniption when he heard she was a girl."

My father smiled lightly. "How is he?" he questioned quietly, "He's been gone awhile now."

"Yeah, well those early tours, you know," I said, trying to hold back most of my distaste, "But he was here a couple of days ago for Arch. He's doing well."

Frida nodded, peering at me. "Caleb was saying something about issues," she muttered, looking at me as if I had any idea what she was saying.

"The band?" I questioned, "Or band issues?"

She frowned. "There's a band called Issues?"

Max piped up, "I'm sure it's nothing serious if he didn't mention it. Probably just a little spat."

"Well it made it to the internet, I guess," Frida stated, "How else would Caleb know about it?"

"It's probably just gossip," Max rebutted, glaring daggers at her, "Just mention it next time you talk to him. Ronnie will straighten it out."

I nodded, wondering how my sister's boyfriend could know more about the band and their issues than I did, being engaged to the singer and founder and all.

Now there were two things that I needed to talk to Ronnie about, and they conflicted and would make the conversation ever harder, especially over the phone. Arch stepped around the couch and dropped to the floor next to my sister and I followed, pulling my baby sister from Max and curling her up in my arms like a little dark haired ball.

We had all done this same gathering right before Nico was born and here we were again, three years later, welcoming another Gurewitz to the big, confusing world. It was strange and none of us really thought we'd be here again, but we were content and ready to bring her whole-heartedly into our lives.

My life had practically turned into a Saturday special, titled "Friends with Kids" and even though I had Arch, I was on the outside looking in, living a life that wouldn't allow Ronnie and I to get to that place.

I left Arch with the family and headed upstairs to my old bedroom. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. It was the same as it had always been. My parents had decided to remodel their room and master bath in order to let everyone keep their old rooms and create a space for the baby. She would be across the hall at end and my childhood bedroom was safe.

My bed was pushed against the back wall, next to the window and the desk sat on just the other side of it. Two book shelves, over flowing with photos and novels were pushed against the wall that had the door and the one parallel to the window. It was a decent sized room, although smaller and more cluttered than mine and Ronnie's now.

I laid back on my bed and stared at the photos that plastered to the ceiling. My entire childhood was laid out in front of me like this. My old friends, the memories from my father's tours, and the makeshift family that had been created for us in the wake of our mother leaving us. The photos told the story of a little girl who got almost everything she wanted. She saw the world from the back of a bus and learned about life due to heartache and courage.

And now she was living one she only dreamed of. Her amazing man, beautiful family, and a career that she loved. Yet somehow, in that moment, I felt disconnected from myself, as though part of me was on the road with Ronnie and the rest of me was fighting to stay here.

I slid my phone from my pocket and dialed Ronnie's number from the contact list. It was still early, so he answered quickly, his tone light and playful on the other end.

"Atticus, I love you," he spoke happily, shouting something out in the background as someone jested at him. "What are you doing? Is everything okay still?"

I nodded slowly in the dim light, although he couldn't see, and ran my fingers through a strand of hardened hair. "Yeah, it's great," I said, referring to my family, "Everything is fine."

"Then what's wrong?" His voice darkened and the noise faded from the background as he headed to his own room and closed the door on the guys, focusing on me rather than their laughter.

"I don't know," I sighed, trying to pull myself out of a slump, "I think I just miss you and miss tour and wish things could've remained so simple," I explained as he waited patiently and took in my words. I could feel it in him too, this need for everything to be as it was, for us to be together and to be happy. It seemed impossible now, that we would ever get to spend nights like that together again.

"Are you just having an off day?" he asked, his voice soft and low and concerned most of all, "It is because I left again? I wish I could've stayed longer, you know that, baby, but I had to get back."

"I know," I agreed, "and I understand, it's just that everything is so complicated and Arch's mother in coming a few days and Gina is practically giving birth already. It just feels like all these things are happening and none of it is making me feel more whole."

"I miss you too, Atticus," he said solemnly, "and it kills me that I can't be there with you right now, but I'll be home and we can be together."

"But it won't be permanent," I argued, hating that there was truth behind my words, "And Arch too, Ronnie, what happens if we lose him to her or if we ship him off to live with someone else in a year? He'll never understand. Our life isn't permanent, it never will be."

"Att, where is all of this coming from?" he questioned, sounding bewildered.

I sighed and pushed my hair back from my face. "Aiden and Heather made me Kyat's god-mother yesterday," I explained, "They expect me to raise him if something ever happened to them. And Arch doesn't have siblings and thinks Abigail hates him and my mother is having another baby. And our lives will never be stable enough to do any of this."

"Any of what, Atticus?" Ronnie asked frustratedly, "To take Kyat from Heather, and make Arch's family perfect, and to have kids?"

"Yes," I breathed, so tired of trying to figure out my own thoughts and heart, "To be god-parents, and to have children, and to keep Arch, because, God, Ronnie. I want him. I want him so much and I can't imagine letting his terrible mother take him from me or even touch him and tell him she loves him. I want to do that, I want to wake up to the sound of him everyday for the next thirteen plus years and I want him to have siblings and be loved and know that nothing is ever going to take him from us."

"We can't raise him, Atti. We don't have the time or the lifestyle," Ronnie rebutted, "And I can't be his dad, I'll never live up to what his father really was. You can't expect me to try. And kids?, Atti, I want kids more than anything, your kids, but not now. I'm not even home, baby. We can't start a life without both of us present."

"That's how it's always going to be," I said, tears welling in my eyes, "I know that your music is everything, Ronnie, I love that about you. But I can't raise our kids on a tour bus. I can't homeschool them or hire a nanny, or worry about them losing their hearing because they hangout with daddy at work every night. I love the idea, but it'll never work."

I wiped the water off my cheeks and listened to his silence. It was deafening and I wanted to take back all my words at the sound of it. Ronnie was strong, but easily breakable and I could hear defeat in his voice. "What…" he trailed off, "What can we do then, Atti? Do you want me to give this up? For us? I'll do it, I swear. Nothing means more to me than you do and I can't fucking lose you because I want to keep you both. Atticus, please, just tell me what to do."

I laid in my bed and I cried little tears because I wasn't sure what else to do. Ronnie repeated my name in such confused agony that it killed me and I pulled the phone from my ear so I didn't have to hear his pain. I wanted too many things but there was only one of us. We couldn't live in parallel dimensions and have it all. It just was't possible.

So as Ronnie said my name again and tapered off, I told him what I wanted and the only want I knew how to achieve it. "I want to keep Arch," I said, "Forever. And I want to be his mom and I want you to be his dad, but that can't happen, Ronnie," I said, "I won't let you give up all your dreams for half of mine. But I want Arch. He needs me."

I could almost picture the singer in front of me. He would be shaking his head and trying to push away the tears before anyone noticed. "Atticus, I need you," he breathed, "I can't live without you."

I nodded and I pushed away the thought and blinked to keep away the tears. "You need your dreams, Ronnie," I said, knowing was true, "and it's not fair of me to pull you from them, or to want to. It's selfish. And it's cruel of me to keep Arch around, knowing what he wants and knowing I can't give it to him. But I want him, Ronnie. It's killing me to hurt him… and to hurt you."

"Hurt me, Atti," he pleaded, "Please, just don't leave me. We can make it work. We can have everything, baby. Please.

I whispered that I loved him and that I was sorry that I wanted more than what was possible. I knew though, that he would give up his entire world to make mine perfect for me. And I couldn't watch him do it and I couldn't live in between them both. I wouldn't pull him home and I couldn't drag myself through the middle any longer.

So I broke our hearts to save his dreams.

And I hated myself for it. I hated myself for making him hurt and for hurting myself, but his dreams weren't less than mine, and I couldn't watch him throw away his life and theirs for the sake of what I wanted.

I was trying not to be selfish. I was trying to save us from failure.