“I love you too. Goodnight.”
When Brody pads off towards his bedroom, apparently skipping his teeth for tonight, Marcus shoots up in a panic. When he sees it’s just me, he visibly relaxes. “Hey, babe. How’d your date go?”
I grin. “Surprisingly well.”
A soft smile plays on his lips. “Good to hear. Uh, sorry for the mess. I’ll clean—” He starts to stand up and head for the kitchen, but I stop him.
“Relax, Marco. It’s fine for tonight.” I find myself leaning into him and wrapping my arms around his waist. I sigh, nuzzling into his warm embrace—comforted by his steadfast security.
His arms curl around me tighter. “You sure you’re okay, Lo?” he mutters into my hair.
I nod. “Mhm, I’m fine. I just needed one of your bear hugs so I know it’s okay to let my guard down. I’ve been so overwhelmedwith nerves and anticipation since he asked me to go out. He was an absolute gentleman, but I was still, I don’t know, anxious I guess.”
“Perfectly understandable. I’m glad to hear he was good to you though. So fuckin’ glad. Are we having a cuddle night tonight?”
“If that’s okay…”
“Of course. It’s always okay.”
And just like always, after we both take turns brushing our teeth and climb into our bed, I find absolute comfort waiting for me in Marcus’ strong arms. All it takes is just a few minutes of us laying together, my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, and I’m lulled to sleep. I’m not even sure I had the energy in me to reply to his whispered, “Love you, Polo.”
Chapter Six
“Is now too soon to text her back?”
It’s only been four days. I’ve been out of the dating game for far too long. Is that too soon? Will I come off as being too clingy if I text her first? I should wait for her to text me… right? Right, yeah. She did mention she had her son's birthday party she needed to focus on anyway, so me reaching out would just be too much on her plate.
Cameron rolls his eyes at me. “I’m not real sure why you’re askingmethat,” he snarks.
I toss my exasperation laden hands up in the air before signing, “Because you’re the sixteen-year-old who is supposed to be down with the times here!”
He grins, switching over to SEE to respond—fed up with vocalizing for the day, I guess. “I’m pretty sure the tides are supposed to be going the opposite direction here. A son is supposed to go to his dad for dating advice, not the other way around.”
“I know. Trust me, I feel awkward enough about it. By the way, are you sure you’re okay with me trying to get back out into the dating world again?”
He nods, then sighs. “Yes. It will take a bit of getting used to, I suppose, but it’s not like I expected you to hold out hope that Papa will magically get better.”
I clasp my hands together and bring them up to my mouth, unsure of how to respond to that. For months Cam and I both were convinced that, if we just gave Aaron long enough, he’d eventually regain functional enough brain activity that we’d see glimpses of his former self, but to no avail. No amount of tears shed and constant pleading with him—hoping that on some subconscious level he’d find his way back to us—brought him back.
He’s completely bed bound and has been in a minimally conscious state since the accident—a shell of his former being, once so vibrant with life and laughter. It kills me that I’m no longer allowed to see him, to help care for him. Hell, if I’d had the means, I would have fought so damn hard just to bring him here with Cam and me. But I’m afraid that on some deep, dark level, his parents were right.
I caused this. I’m at fault here. Ideserveto have this hanging over my shoulders.
Cameron’s thumb brushing away a stray tear, that I didn’t know had fallen, startles me out of my self-loathing. “You still love him. I know that, Dad. That doesn’t mean you need to continue to beat yourself up over what happened. You don’t need to resign yourself to misery.”
I don’t even respond with words, I just pull my son into my arms and squeeze him tightly. Together, we share a few silent moments just mourning the loss of the life we could have—weshouldhave—all hadtogether. One that, in just one mere moment, was shattered for us forever.
I don’t know what I’m doing, trying to move on. I feel like such an asshole. I shouldn’t have such an opportunity when nothing like that exists for Aaron anymore.
As if he can sense me spiraling out, Cameron pulls out of the embrace and encourages me to sit down at the kitchen island. “I think you should text her back,” he rasps, passing me a box of tissues after nabbing one for himself. “I think if she gives you some spark of life back, you should do it. I don’t want to lose you too.”
He clears his throat, sitting on the stool next to me. “Nothing about you finding happiness again makes you a bad person, Dad. I promise you, you’ve gone through enough hell.”
What on earth have I ever done to deserve a son like him? Seriously. Aaron gave me a hell of a gift when he brought Cameron into my life. Not sure I believe in God, when there’s so much shit that would give me reason to be mistrustful, but damn—I have to believe that fate or something had their hand in giving me the opportunity to raise such a gentle human.
“Am I still a cool dad if I tell you ‘I love you’ right now?” I ask, blinking away more tears.
He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess so,” he snarks, shrugging. “I love you too.”
