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Sleep evaded me because I was stuck in the endless loop of “what-ifs”.
What if I had made sure he knew we were the ones having a baby? What if I reached out to him? What if I never fell in love with him? What if we had been together? What if he fell in love with me? What if he was there for the pregnancy? What if hewould’ve picked me over that cunt? What if my grandpa was still here? What if the apocalypse happens?
“Mommy?” Charlie’s voice was softer now. “Cans you tie my rope?”
Snot blew from my nose as I laughed at his question. “It’s called a tie, baby.”
“Why’s you cryin’?” He came over and wrapped his arms around my leg.
“Happy tears, baby.” I stroked my hand down his head. “Don’t worry.”
My hands trembled as I tied his tie.
“My brudder’s wearin’ his rope too.” Charlie beamed with joy.
“You will be the handsomest boys at school today.” I cupped his sweet face. “I better get to making some pancakes.”
He did an arm pump and dashed from the kitchen.
I gathered everything I needed and put a tray of bacon in the oven.
Henry’ll probably need more than just pancakes.
My world stopped.
“Now you’re cooking for him?” I rolled my eyes and threw my hands up, tossing the spatula across the room. “Outstanding, Miranda. You’re a hot mess.”
I left the spatula where it was, got out a clean one and got to work making breakfast. The dogs were already outside and their barks let me know company had arrived.
The backdoor opened and one excited little boy came running through the kitchen with two dogs keeping pace.
Cracking the oven door, I peeked in at the bacon, jumping when hands latched on to my hips, pulling me back against a hard body, slamming the door.
“You as tired as I am?” Henry’s voice rumbled along my skin, making me shiver.
“I would’ve slept more if some asshole hadn’t kept me awake.”
His jeans rubbed against me as his hands moved under my top. “Fuck, your skin is soft.”
“What are you doing to me?” My voice floated out in a whisper.
His face felt prickly as he rubbed his cheek against my neck. “Hoping to give you blue balls.”
I barked out a laugh and pulled away. “Pancakes don’t cook themselves. Why don’t you set the table?”
“You tryin’ to get rid of me?”
“Daddy!” Both boys came running into the kitchen.
“Whoa!” He stepped back. “Look at you two.”
I turned around to see both boys standing there proudly in mismatched colors, flannel shirts, and ties.
“How hungry are you?” I smiled at them both and they both patted their bellies.
“Hungry.” Charlie nodded his head matter-of-factly.
“Baby, help Da…” I took a deep breath. “Help Daddy set the table.”
