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With a mixture of unidentified emotions coursing through me, I turn back to my list. But now I can’t focus. All I can do is reminisce on that night when I opened my door at the club to find Clay waiting for me. The night everything ended between us. When he uttered those earth-shattering words—I just want you.
Anxiety burrows its way into my chest at the memory. Not a night goes by that I don’t wonder if I did the right thing. I keep reliving that moment, telling myself over and over that it was for the best.
But I’m never fully convinced.
In an effort to distract my brain from having the same conversation again, I wad up the napkin and shove it into my purse. Then I climb off the barstool and wave goodbye to the bartender before heading for the exit of the club.
I toss my workbag in the trunk of my car and climb in the front seat, mentally planning the order of events for the morning. The entire drive home, my brain is making a schedule. If I make it home by three, I can get six hours of sleep before I’ll have to get ready for the day. If I order the tickets by noon, we should be able to squeeze in cupcakes and presents with Ronan and Daisy before Jack and I go to a seven o’clock show tonight. If I keep him out any later than that, he’ll be a major grump tomorrow.
I pull into the garage at exactly two thirty-seven. Being as quiet as possible, I sneak inside. There’s a kitchen light on, which means my nocturnal nanny is still up. Sure enough, she’s sitting at the island, typing away on her laptop. When she sees me come in, she pulls the AirPods from her ears.
“Hey,” she whispers with a sweet smile.
“Hey, you’re up late. How’s that paper coming?”
She rolls her eyes. “If I never have to write the words child welfare again, it will be too soon.”
I laugh as I drop my purse on the counter. “Well, you might have to if you’re going to be a social worker someday.”
She slams her laptop shut. “Don’t remind me.”
“How was he?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Perfect as always,” she replies. “We ate the leftover spaghetti for dinner and read four books before bed. He was out like a light by eight.”
“Awesome. Thank you again, Madison.”
“Of course. I love hanging out with him, plus it gives me somewhere quiet to work on this stupid paper.”
She packs up her laptop and rubs her eyes as she yawns. I walk her to the door, grateful she lives with her parents just one neighborhood over, so I don’t have to worry about her driving too far this late at night.
“You’re almost there. Just stick with it,” I say with encouragement as I pat her on the back.
“Thanks, Eden. Tell Jack happy birthday for me,” she adds. “See you on Thursday.”
“See you on Thursday,” I reply. I wait for her to get into her car and start driving away before I close the door.
I hired Madison three years ago when the club opened, and it’s been working great. She’s a college student who needs extra cash and time away from her parents. She doesn’t mind the late nights andadoresJack.
The best part about Madison is that she knows exactly what I do for a living and thinks it’sbadass—her words exactly. But for propriety’s sake, we keep that information to ourselves. I’m not ashamed of my work, but I have enough awareness to know that not everyone is so accepting, and plenty of people would be happy to make my life harder with that piece of information—especially where Jack is concerned.
After Madison leaves, I tiptoe down the hall and peek into the first room on the right. The shark night-light glows in blue and green against the walls and ceiling, and I have to creep over the scattered toys on the floor to reach his bed. He’s sprawled face up on top of the covers in his blue-striped pj’s, so I take a moment to be sentimental and stare at him.
Messy dark-brown curls fan out over his pillow. I reach down carefully and brush them out of his face before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his forehead. He’s a deep sleeper like me, so he doesn’t stir at all.
Then I take another moment to stare at him. As of today, he’s officially seven.
His birthday has me reminiscing on the day he was born. Living in the guest room of Ronan’s apartment in the city, I thought I had another couple of weeks before I’d have to make room for a baby. Ronan was out on business, and my water broke without warning as I was reading an internet article about the right and wrong ways to use a spanking bench. To this day, I can’t even see one without remembering the pain that followed that moment.
I labored for hours completely alone, without a single person to hold my hand. By the time Ronan arrived at the hospital, Jack was sleeping peacefully in his bassinet.
A couple of days later, I brought home a seven-and-a-half-pound baby that changed my world forever. By the time he started crawling, we had the keys to this house, and I was running my blog full time.
On that day, I made a promise to myself that I would always put Jack first. It was just us, and it would always be just us. I would die before bringing home another man who could do to Jack what his father had done to me. No matter how charming or rich, I refuse to fall for that trick again.
Love is nothing more than a form of control.
And from here on out, I will be the only one in control.
