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There’s no way I’ll let any of that taint this child.
I snap the ultrasound photo off the counter. “I’ll be right back,” I say, driven by this need to make it right.
No distance. No coldness. No secrets. Not about this baby.
I knock softly on Zeke’s door and push it open. He’s sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone with that look on his face that I recognize. I do this all the time: the doom scroll. He’s feeding his racing mind with all the fucked-up bullshit in the world to avoid his own.
“Hey,” I say, closing the door behind me.
“Hey.” He doesn’t look up, so I move to sit next to him on the bed.
“I’m sorry if I freaked you out there,” I say, and his eyes snap to mine. “I just thought it was exciting news. I wanted to surprise you with it, but I just talked to Tabby, and I realize it was a bad idea. I’m really sorry.”
There’s a wave of pain that passes across his features, and then he locks it all up with his signature, easygoing smile. “Nah, I’m the one that should say sorry. I keep fucking up these moments for you. You were excited about the movement. I just made it about me.”
I shake my head, a laugh lingering on my lips.
“What?” he says, tossing his phone and leaning into me.
“Fighting with you is the strangest experience,” I admit, and he grins.
“How so?”
“You just, like, absorb it all.”
“Okay?” Zeke chuckles. “That makes sense.” He’s teasing me, so I swat his chest.
I stand up, and he stops me, taking my hands in his and positioning me between his knees. He runs a hand over my belly and slips his fingers under my shirt, palming my stomach before resting his forehead against it. I push my fingers through his hair and revel in the heat of his hands on me. He’s never done this, but there’s something so intimate about it. The connection is instant, but the distance is vast.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, and that’s fine, but I just need to say one thing, okay?” I say, unable to leave it alone.
He tips his chin to look up at me with fear in his eyes. “Okay.”
“I’ve never met your father. But I know with every fibre of my being, and this little one’s, that you will not be anything like him, Zeke. Tabby told me that you guys are weird about the word son, but to this little boy, that word will only mean he is loved, belongs, and is good. You have the power to change the meaning of that word for him. I just need you to know that.”
Zeke’s wide, misty eyes fill with fear. He’s rigid and carved of stone, my words turning him solid.
I crouch down to take his face in my hands, and I press my lips softly to his. “You are a good man. Believe me, please.”
He barely kisses me back, still stunned, but his chest becomes deep and expansive. I place the ultrasound photo in his hands and tap it.
“You get to decide how he sees you. And if it’s anything like how I see you, he’s going to be very proud of his daddy.”
I know he’s freaking out inside his head, so I stroke his cheek affectionately and back out of the room. “You asked me to trust you, but Zeke, you have to trust me, too. I’m here if you need anything.”
I’ve made my peace. I’ve said what I needed to say.
I meant every word of it.
