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Deacon tensed when shouting came from the front of the house, and seconds later, the door to the bedroom burst open.
We barely had time to stop kissing before the sound of light feet met with the scream, “Superman!” and then there was nothing at all.
Crap.
Deacon let out a low oof, and I grunted with the weight of Keith landing sideways on top of him.
We both looked over at the cheesy grin lighting up my son’s face as he watched us. “Are you pissing Mommy?”
“Oh gosh. Bud, it’s kissing. He was kissing Mommy.”
Keith sighed dramatically. “That’s what I said!”
Deacon’s smile matched Keith’s. “I was.”
My eyes stopped mid-roll when I realized what had just happened. I pulled in a soft gasp. “Baby, who are you?”
Blue, blue eyes found me, smiling just as much as the rest of his face. “Mommy, don’t be silly. I’m Superman!”
My chest felt heavy with every emotion, the most prominent of which was all the love for my little man. “You are?” I asked as I wiggled out from underneath Deacon, my voice thick with my surprise and excitement.
“Who else would I be?” Keith started to ask just before I pulled him into the tightest hug.
“Whoever you want to be,” I whispered against his head as I peppered it with kisses.
I glanced up at Deacon as my mouth split into the widest smile. Holding Keith tighter to my chest, I covered his free ear, and whispered to Deacon, “He’s only been Keith since you left. Wouldn’t even talk about it. Any of it.”
Pain and acceptance flashed across Deacon’s features. He nodded once, then ran his hands over his face and through his hair. Pinning me with his stare, he mouthed, “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Can’t you see how happy I am?” I released Keith, and said, “Hey, buddy, are Aunt Grey and Uncle J still here?”
Keith nodded enthusiastically. “We brought dinner!”
“Okay, why don’t you go back out there, and we’ll follow you right out.”
Deacon waited until Keith was running away screaming to say, “I never should’ve walked, Charlie.”
“We both shouldn’t have done or said what we did.” I traced his handsome face, and let the tips of my fingers linger on his lips. “Deacon, I don’t want Graham. I’ve never wanted Graham.”
“I know.” He nodded toward the door. “I heard you.”
That didn’t surprise me. As soon as I’d heard him walking up behind me in the room, I’d known he had to have heard everything.
“And the song . . . you have to understand what happened with the song on that last night.” I grabbed the notebook where it rested beside me, and flipped quickly to the finished song. “Look at the chorus. Read it.” I waited for a few seconds, before I asked, “Do you see it? ‘When I look at you like that’ . . . Deacon, when had I ever knowingly looked at Stranger before I finished the song? The chorus was about you. I was only falling in love with you.”
His eyes met mine and flashed with understanding and awe. “Charlie Girl,” he murmured, his voice weighed down.
“And that last message . . .” I trailed off and shook my head. “I don’t know if you’ll ever believe me, but I was going to tell Stranger good-bye that night. I thought he deserved to see the full song. Once he—once you responded, I was going to explain the chorus and tell him that I was done. But ther
e was no response, and then you were back in my room.”
There was a short hesitation before Deacon sighed. As he spoke, he moved to sit on the bed and pulled me into his arms. “All I saw that night was that you messaged him and I saw the words heart and love, and I lost it. I didn’t even fully grasp the other words; I didn’t understand that it didn’t fit for someone you’d never seen. But it makes sense now.”
My eyes landed on the phone resting forgotten at the foot of my bed. “That phone . . .”
Another long sigh. “I never thought I would hate that I had that phone.”
“It went off a lot that first week before it finally died.”
