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Cold pizza and a beer for dinner it is, then. Or is it breakfast?
I don’t think I really care.
After Kiwi left, there was something in my gut screaming at me to go get him. That I’d made the biggest mistake of my life. And I think whatever intuition I had was right.
I can’t keep the negative thoughts at bay. I keep replaying his words over and over and over.
“You’ll never make me happy. You’ll never give, just a little fucking bit, so I can be happy.”
Those words cut deep. They shredded my soul. And the look on his face, in his eyes, gutted me. His expression was burned into my mind and it’s all I see when I close my eyes. It’s him, so devastated behind a mask of indifference, a mask of anger, that made me realize my feelings for him go a lot deeper than I ever realized.
I’m hurt that he made me feel bad for sleeping with Archer when he slept with Heather. But she has a man now; she doesn’t need mine. And knowing her, and honestly, knowing Ezra, I believe him when he says it was casual, that it meant nothing.
But I’ve been single for so long. I’ve been on my own for so fucking long I think I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have someone, another adult, to rely on. It sounds too good to be true—hesounds too good to be true.
He says all the right things, even if he gives them a crazy spin. But he cares about Ian, and that’s the most important thing to me, that the man I’m falling for loves my son, too. Ian has to be a priority, not just to me, but to him, too. And I think we would be Ezra’s entire life.
A part of me is terrified to lower my guard and let him in. I know when I do, there’s no going back. Once I’m in, I’ll be all the way in. I know it’s me who has pushed him away every time. And I know he was right when he said I’d push until he cracked and proved me right by leaving. But that would be all on me. That would be my fault, to have broken a seemingly unbreakable man like him.
Footsteps sound from the living room, and I lift my head as Ian walks into the dark kitchen. I feel like it’s been years since I’ve seen him, since I’ve held him. Tears sting my eyes and I sniff hard, wanting to push them back. But they don’t. They spill down my cheeks and I cover my face with my hands.
“Mom?” Ian says, his voice groggy from sleep. “What’s wrong?” I cry harder at the question.
I’ve ruined so many lives. My own, Ian’s, my parents, Ian’s father’s…now Ezra’s.
I can’t take the weight of it anymore. The weight of knowing I’m responsible for fucking everything up, all the time. Ian deserves a better mother, one who should’ve given him a father when he was a baby. One that should’ve fought his biological father harder so he could know him. One that wouldn’t turn away the first good man to ever enter her life.
But I’ve ruined it all. Everything.
I know I’ve fucked him up and he’ll need therapy for the rest of his life. I’ll be fucking lucky if he ever talks to me after he moves out.
His arms wrap around me, unsure and wary, and I cry harder at his touch. This isn’t his job. Taking care of me, comforting me—this isn’t his job.I try to pull myself together, but with every hyperventilating breath, I sob harder.
He holds me tighter, and I let him. I break and press my face harder against him. He’s silent. He doesn't push me for answers, or try to reassure me. He just gives me his presence, and that’s all I need.
“I’m sorry,” I say against his shirt, now damp from tears. “I’m so, so sorry, Ian.”
“For what?” His voice is soft, one I haven’t heard before, and it breaks my heart even more. He doesn’t sound like my baby. He sounds like a man. Not a boy growing into a man—a man.
“For being such a shitty mom,” I say. “I don’t know how I’ve fucked it up so bad, but I have. You deserve so much, baby. You deserve to live in a house, not a rundown apartment. I want to give you the world. I want to give you a father. I want to give you more, and I can’t. I fuck it all up and I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with it. That you’ve had to deal with me.”
His arms tighten, and he rests his chin on the top of my head. “You give me everything, Mom. I don’t need a dad, not when I have you. You haven’t fucked anything up.” His words just make me cry harder. “What happened?”
I let out another broken sob, and he pulls away to look down at me. His face is mostly shadowed, the growing sunrise illuminating the side of his face.
“I ruined everything with Ezra,” I say. “I—I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this.”
“Mom,” he says, squeezing my shoulders.
“I think I like him,” I admit. There’s a pause, then he snorts.
“Yeah, no shit.” I blink at him. “I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at him. Even when you look like you want to kill him, there’s…something. Something in your eyes.” I just stare at him, unable to say anything. “He came by the other day before he went to Oregon. I called him when you came home drunk because I was worried.”
“You did?” I don’t know how to feel about that.
“He cares about you. I thought he’d know what to do.”
“So if I brought him around,” I say slowly, “it wouldn’t be weird for you to see me with him? You’d be fine with it? With us?” He shrugs again. “Ian, you always come first. And if you tell me you don’t like him, then everything ends.”
