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Noise coming from the kitchen stirs me from sleep. I open my eyes, blinking around my living room. Pushing up on my elbows, I see Court, who is curled up on the opposite end of the couch as me, still fast asleep.
Glancing to my right, I spot the blanket Tess used last night folded neatly in the armchair and figure it must be her in the kitchen. Careful not to disturb Court, I slide off the couch and head directly toward the bathroom, feeling like my bladder and head are both going to explode at any moment.
Taking a few minutes, I use the restroom, wash my face, and brush my teeth before finally making my way back out into the living area. When I spot Ant in the kitchen, my heart instantly picks up speed and I quickly make my way toward him, stopping in the doorway when I spot Jack standing on a chair in front of the stove next to Ant, a spatula in his hand.
“What are you doing here?” I question Ant before dropping a quick kiss on Jackson’s temple. “Morning, baby.”
“Morning, Mama.” He grins, showing me the spatula. “I’m helping Ant-man make breakfast,” he states proudly.
“You are?” I smile back at him. “What are you making?” I ask, looking down at the slices of bread in the pan.
“We’re making you and Aunt Courtney French toast.”
“That sounds amazing.” I glance over to Ant and repeat my earlier question. “What are you doing here? I thought you were at Sebastian’s?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Headed back earlier. Tess was leaving just as I got here. You and Court were still sleeping when Jack woke up.” He nods toward my son. “Making breakfast was his idea.”
“It was?” I smile at Jack, watching Ant help him flip the two pieces of French toast in the pan.
The sight, like so many others I’ve witnessed between the two of them, warms me to my core. Ant is so good with Jack, so patient and loving. To anyone who may not know our situation, I’m sure they would just assume Ant is his father because that’s just how much he adores Jack. How special and rare that is, is not lost on me.
“Ant let me break the eggs too,” Jack quickly adds.
“Before long you’re going to be a master chef,” I say, running my hand along the soft strands of his brown hair. “I’ll let you two finish up here. I’m going to go hop in the shower,” I say, giving Ant a soft smile before backing out of the kitchen.
I spend twenty minutes under a stream of scalding hot water, trying like hell to scrub away the thoughts of what life could be like if I took the selfish route. Turning Ant away doesn’t just hurt me. It hurts Jackson too.
He loves Ant, and I have no doubt that Ant loves him. I could be denying my son the opportunity to have a real man in his life. Someone who he can learn from, look up to, go to when he needs advice. I want that for my child more than I want happiness for myself. But Ant can give us both happiness.
“He’s not yours,” I remind myself as I dry my hair off with a towel and slide into a pair of yoga pants and a dark gray tank. “Stop planning a life that can never be,” I continue, scolding myself in the mirror.
By the time I exit the bathroom several minutes later, I’m no less conflicted. If anything, I’m more so. It certainly doesn’t help the situation when I walk out into the living area and hear Courtney laughing in the kitchen.
“Fucking great,” I mutter under my breath before stepping into the doorway.
My eyes land on Ant first. He’s leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, wide smile on his face, and his gaze locked on Courtney who is standing in the same position directly across from him—her smile even wider.
Jealousy is the first and most prominent thing I feel. I know I have no right to feel jealous. I have no right to feel anything where Ant is concerned. But it’s not something I can help either. I can’t stop it any more than I can stop the way my heart skips a beat every time he looks at me with those incredible gray-blue eyes of his.
Court is the first to sense my presence, her smile turning on me the moment she realizes I’m standing in the doorway.
“Morning.” She grins.
“Morning.” I return her smile even though the last thing I feel like doing is smiling. “Where’s Jack?” I look around, noticing the large plate of French toast next to the stove before finally meeting Ant’s gaze.
“He went to change his clothes. He didn’t want to eat without you.” He no more than says the words when I feel arms wrap around my waist from behind.
“Hey, buddy,” I say, turning slightly to ruffle his already messy hair. “You ready to eat?”
“Me and Ant-man made you special toast, Mama,” he says, gesturing to the small four-person table behind me.
“You did?” I question, turning around, not sure how I didn’t notice the plate and juice sitting at my normal spot at the table. “Well, let’s see here.” I walk to the table, allowing Jack to pull my chair out before taking a seat. “Such a gentleman.” I smile, watching as he lifts the cover off my plate, revealing two slices of French toast sprinkled with powdered sugar—Lovewritten on one piece andyouwritten on the other with what looks like red gel icing.
“Do you like it?” Jack bounces excitedly next to me.
“Are you kidding, buddy? I love it.” I turn and kiss his cheek. “Why don’t you go get your plate, and we can eat together.”
“Okay.” He quickly skips off into the kitchen, him and Ant returning just seconds later with a plate for both of them as well as Court.
