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“Max—”
“No!” he hollers, shaking his head. “I don’t want to be a brother. What’s wrong with the way things are right now?” Max’s eyes glitter with moisture and it’s like a punch to the gut. “Why can’t it just be the three us of like it has been?” he says, wiping an arm over his face when a couple of tears leak out. “What did I do wrong?”
Tyson pushes from his seat and kneels down in front of Max, putting one hand on Max’s knee and one on mine. “There’s nothing wrong with the way things are, and you didn’t do anything wrong, Max. Our family is perfect, and this baby is only going to make things more perfect.” Tyson glances at me, and whatever he sees—most likely heartache—spurs him to keep going. “Trust me, buddy, you’re going to love it. Having a bigger brother was one of the best parts of growing up for me, and now you’re going to be a big brother. They’re going to look up to you and want to be like you—”
Max’s bottom lip trembles and mine follows suit as he slaps Tyson’s hand away. “I don’t care,” he growls, his voice breaking. “I hate yo
u guys!” Max shoves past us and runs down the hall. I flinch when his bedroom door slams shut.
If there’s one thing that makes a mother’s heart ache, it’s seeing her child in pain. And even though Max’s pain isn’t physical, it’s ripping me to shreds knowing that he’s hurting … and I’m the cause.
“You were right,” I say, emotion clogging my throat. Without warning, my nose burns and tears roll down my face. “He hates us,” I cry, burying my face in my hands. “I’m the worst mother ever.” Max has never once said he hates me and I can’t even begin to describe how horrible that makes me feel.
Tyson gathers me in his arms, and I wrap myself around him. “Shhh,” he croons, running his hand in circles on my back. Funny how he was the nervous one and now he’s comforting me. “You’re an amazing mother, Harley, and I assure you that Max didn’t mean that. He’s just mad and he’s lashing out.”
“I don’t think so,” I say, shaking my head against his chest. “I think it’s more than that.”
“You need to go talk to him.” Tyson pulls back just a fraction. “Look at me,” he says, offering me a sympathetic smile when my swollen eyes meet his. “There’s my girl.” He brushes a thumb across my cheek, wiping away the tears, and I’m reminded for about the billionth time just how lucky I am to have him. “This pregnancy is an incredible gift from God, and I promise you that Max will come around.”
“Okay…” I sigh as my eyes drift down the hall.
Tyson plants a soft kiss on the side of my head and tugs me up from the couch. “Go.”
“Knock, knock.”
Tapping on the door, I push it open and peek my head into Max’s room. “Can I come in?” Max is sitting on his bed, knees pulled to his chest, head buried. When he doesn’t respond, I take that as a yes.
Stepping around his Legos scattered across the floor, I sit down on the edge of his bed. “Max, will you look at me please?”
He shakes his head and I close my eyes, trying to figure out the best way to address this. Remembering how my heart nearly exploded with love the first time I ever laid eyes on Max, the words just start spilling out. “The day you were born was the best day of my life. There you were, this dark-haired, gorgeous little baby and you were all mine. I didn’t have to share you with anyone … well, okay”—I shrug—“I had to share you with Nana and Papa, but that was it. From that day forward, it was just the two of us against the world, so I know it must be hard for you to—”
“It’s not you.” My eyes pop open and I look at Max. The bottom part of his face is still buried, but his red, puffy eyes are locked on mine.
Shifting on the bed, I turn so I can face him. “Then tell me,” I beg. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s Tyson,” he whispers, averting his eyes.
“I…” Lips pursed, I try to understand what he’s talking about, but I come up empty. “I don’t understand.”
Max sniffs and wipes his eyes, and I decide enough is enough. My little boy may be seven pushing seventeen, but he’s still my little boy. Tugging his arm, I pull Max into a hug. Surprisingly, he doesn’t resist, and when he buries his face in the crook of my neck and starts to cry, I nearly lose it. “Talk to me, Max.”
His shoulders bob, his body shaking with each shuddery breath. “I just got him,” he says, wiping his face on my shirt. I tighten my grip as if, in doing so, I could absorb some of his pain. “All the kids at school have dads, and …” His voice breaks on a sob and I wait him out, happy that he’s finally sharing what’s on his mind.
“All the kids at school have dads, and I always wanted one. Well, now I finally got one, and I’m gonna lose him.”
“Max, no.” I pull back just a fraction so that I can look him in the eye. “Ty loves you. Why would you think you’re going to lose him?”
“Because I’m not his,” he says, his words splitting my heart in two. Clearly my son doesn’t understand how much he means to Tyson. “This baby is Tyson’s … I’m not.” I open my mouth to say something, but quickly shut it when he keeps talking. “He’s not gonna want to play soccer or baseball with me anymore, and when he come home from work”—Max sucks in a jerky breath and wipes his face—“he usually comes in here and talks to me before I go to bed, but now he’s going to want to spend time with the baby.”
“No.” Tyson’s strong voice startles me and I spin around, Max still clutched firmly in my arms.
I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but—damn it—I wanted to know what’s going on with Max. When I hear him say he’s not mine, I nearly lose my shit. “No,” I say, stepping into Max’s room. Harley swivels around and Max’s head pops up. “You are mine,” I state firmly, feeling the words deep in my soul. Harley lets go of Max and slips off the bed, but I don’t bother looking at her because right now my son needs my full attention.
Apparently I have it, because when I sit down next to Max, he doesn’t move a muscle. His big brown eyes are two swirling pools of uncertainty, and it takes every ounce of strength I have not to yank him into my arms. “Did you hear me?” I ask.
His eyes flit nervously around my face, but he doesn’t answer.
“You are mine, Max. Aside from your mom, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and I swear to you…” Emotion creeps its way up my throat, cutting off my words, and I have to swallow a couple of times before continuing. “I swear to you that nothing is going to change that. Nothing.”
