“He went a little nuts when he saw you,” Sam said to Tommy as Henry squawked. “Can he say Hi?”
Tommy made an exaggerated sound of frustration, but threw the food on the counter and took Henry, going visibly softer as he carried his brother out of the kitchen. Tommy said something I didn’t catch, then his footsteps going down the stairs. He was probably taking his brother to the backyard.
I let out a breath.
Sam stuck his hands in his pockets. “Sorry I can’t stay. I’ve got something on tonight.”
Like what, a date?My stomach pinged once again, and once again I wasn’t sure why. Was I jealous? Disappointed? Whatever it was, it was stupid. Sam was allowed to have his own life. Obviously.
“It’s fine.” I set the peeled potato down on the cutting board and picked up my chef’s knife. I chopped hard, one of the slices narrowly missing my thumb. I was going too fast.
Sam looked concerned. “Or… I could cancel my plans?”
I laughed a little maniacally. “It’s not that,” I said. “It’s totally fine. I didn’t even consider you staying for dinner.”
Sam pressed his lips together. “Totally. Of course not.”
Shit. I wasn’t doing very well here. I set the knife down. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m—there’s a lot going on.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Sam said. “You do have so much going on.”
He sounded so genuine, I shook my head, dropping my hands. “It’s good you’re here. It’s helpful. I just…” I swallowed. I looked over his shoulder, even though I was sure my kids weren’t in earshot. Still, I lowered my voice. “I’m sorry for Tommy.”
Sam lifted his arm up, scratching behind his head. “Is it a problem that I’m here?”
“No.” My voice was vehement. I think maybe it was, but it didn’t matter. Tommy was pissed all the time. And he’d just have to get used to Sam being around, since I wasn’t going to keep him from his son, as uncomfortable as it made either of us.
“He’s like this with everyone. I’m working on it, but I’m just going to have to apologize in advance if he says anything awful to you. I’ll call him on it but it doesn’t seem to do much.”
“It seems like he’s hardest on you.”
The validation of Sam noticing that made a knot grow in my throat. “It’s fine,” I said. “That’s what moms are there for. I’m fine.”Everything’s fine.
“It’s okay if it’s not fine.”
Shit, now I really was going to cry. I half felt like I wantedto. Like, wouldn’t it be nice to not have to hold it all in? Sam would probably run screaming.
Would he?
“You sound like my therapist,” I managed.
Sam gave a shrug of a smile. “And mine.”
He was in therapy?
“You amaze me, Ellie,” Sam said.
I huffed out a laugh. “Why, because I’m barely holding it together?”
“No. I mean yes, but it doesn’t look like barely. You’re making home cooked food. You’re a working mom. You’re on your own. You’ve got your shit together more than me, and I’m only responsible for one person.” A beat passed. “Maybe two, now.”
I shook my head. “I told you, Sam, you don’t need to worry about Henry. I’ve got it.”
Sam seemed to bristle. “What if I want to worry about him?”
My stomach plunged. I really didn’t mean to have this conversation now, standing in my kitchen on the edge of falling apart. But the boys appeared to be occupied, and we needed to have it at some point. I just didn’t know where to start.
I flicked on the stove, glugging some oil into a pan. Too much. Shit. I pressed my hands on the edge of the stove, then turned to face him.
