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She swore that would never happen to Axl.
And she’d kept that promise to herself. But now there was Michael. And she wanted to let him in. It terrified her how much she longed to lean on him—to let him share the load.
How many nights had she dealt with teething, tantrums, and tears all on her own?
Hundreds.
As amazing as Axl was, he was still a two year old. He was still a baby—her baby.
The screech had her ducking her head out from under the water, but delighted laughter came in on the tail end of his scream. She took the time to primp and shave.
She might be a mother, but she was also a woman. Maybe she could salvage something of the night when Axl went to bed. Being a single parent…No she was currently a co-parent. She could call it whatever she wanted, but that’s what they’d been doing for weeks now.
And parents had to do this. They made plans work, and they adapted to setbacks.
She took the time to smooth on the cinnamon blend that drove Michael wild. She blew her hair out so it was full and wavy. She even put a touch of makeup on so she didn’t look like she’d been dealing with a bratty two year old all day.
Instead of the sexy lingerie she’d bought, she went with instinct and pulled on a see-thru cotton tank and a pair of boy shorts. She tugged on a pair of soft gray pants and a flowy sweater.
Comfort and her two boys.
It was a good way to spend Valentine’s Day.
She pushed her sleeves up and her ring snagged. She stared at it for a moment. The little diamond that Snake had given her had been a talisman and a shield. It was time to stop hiding behind it. He was gone, had been gone for years.
He’d been fading away from her even before his accident.
She slid it off and tucked it into her keepsake she kept in her bedside drawer. It felt weird not to have it on her finger, but a weight had also been lifted. She traced her finger over the black velvet box she’d put Michael’s ring in.
She curled her fingers into her palm, then closed the drawer. She wasn’t quite ready to put that on, but she was ready to move ahead. Small steps. Those, she could handle.
She shut off the lights in the bathroom and their bedroom. When she walked through to the living room she didn’t even recognize the apartment. White sheets were draped up everywhere. A few in the cool gray and blues that were a hallmark of the colors that had been here when she moved in.
Now there were a few reds and golds mixed in.
In fact, their living room looked like a mystical bazar. Tiny lights were strung up to each corner of the room. He’d turned off all the other lights. Boxes were stacked in a haphazard house-like form. Giggles came from behind the little flap.
Her eyes misted. They’d done this for her.
Michael had done this for her.
“Knock, knock.”
“Password,” Michael said with authority.
She laughed. “Do I get a clue?”
“Pissa.”
She pressed her lips against a full laugh.
“Password,” Michael whispered. “Piss is not a romantic word.”
“Passerd.”
Michael snorted. “Close enough.”
She crossed her arms. “Still need a clue, guys.”
