I can't meet her gaze. "Mom, please."
"I won't ask questions you can't answer." She reaches out and squeezes my hand. "But be careful. Your father may be sick, but he's not blind."
We return to the living room where Dad has dozed off in his recliner, the newspaper sliding from his lap. Mom adjusts his blanket with gentle hands, her love for him evident in every movement.
"When are you bringing the twins?" she asks softly, not wanting to wake him.
My heart stutters. "Soon. Once things settle down at school."
"They should meet their grandfather while he's still having good days." Her voice cracks. "He doesn't have many left."
"I know. I just need a little more time."
"Time is the one thing we don't have, sweetheart." She walks me to the door, pulling me into another hug. "Bring them soon. Please. Let him know his grandsons before it's too late." She smiles faintly. "I'd like to see them, too, you know."
I nod against her shoulder, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
The drive back to my apartment passes in a blur. My mind spins with everything unsaid, all the secrets piling up like a house of cards ready to collapse. Dad suspects something about Jack. Mom knows I'm hiding things. The twins need to meet their grandfather. And I'm sleeping with three different men.
Three. Different. Men.
What kind of person does that? What kind of mother juggles three relationships while keeping her children hidden and her dying father in the dark?
I park in my apartment complex and sit in the car, my hands gripping the steering wheel. Blake's face flashes through mymind. The way he looked at me while helping me move, his brown eyes warm and genuine. The feel of his body covering mine, his muscles flexing under my hands.
Then Noah. His quiet intensity, the way he listens like every word I say matters. His mouth on mine in the hotel room, desperate and tender.
And Jack. God, Jack. The man I've wanted since I was eighteen. The father of my children. The one who makes me feel alive and terrified in equal measure.
My phone buzzes with a text from Blake:Thinking about you. Hope your visit with your dad went okay.
Then Noah:Free for coffee tomorrow?
And finally Jack:Need to see you again.
I stare at the three messages, my chest tight with guilt and longing. This can't continue. Something has to give. Someone is going to get hurt.
Probably me.
I climb out of the car and trudge up the stairs to my apartment, exhaustion weighing down every step. Inside, I collapse on the couch and stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out how I got here.
Maybe I'm just broken. Maybe I've always been broken, and these three men are just different pieces trying to fill the same void.
A knock at my door interrupts my spiral of self-loathing. I drag myself off the couch, expecting a package or maybe a neighbor.
I open the door and freeze.
Sarah stands in the hallway with Rory and Corey flanking her, their small suitcases clutched in their hands. My best friend's expression is apologetic and exhausted.
"I'm so sorry, Mia," Sarah says, her voice strained. "I know they weren't supposed to come until tomorrow, but my mom had a fall. I have to drive to Portland tonight. The boys insisted on coming to you instead of staying with my sister." She pauses long enough to take a deep breath. "I tried calling but your phone kept going to voicemail."
I pull out my phone and glance at it. How had I missed that? I'd seen the text message notifications but not the missed calls.
Rory and Corey stare up at me with identical hazel eyes flecked with gold. Jack's eyes. Their faces split from wide grins.
"Hi Mom!" they both shout at once before wrapping their arms around my waist.
14
