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I bury my face in the crook of her neck, pressing my lips against her skin. “I like it too.” But even so, I shift my weight a bit to the side. “Let me know if I get too heavy.” In answer, she rubs the side of her face against mine. I can’t help but inhale her scent, the scent of us.
“I love you.” I stroke her hair, holding her close.
“I know,” she says distantly.
I don’t think she knows how much I do, but if she only did.
The last thing I want to hear happens: the phone rings, and I internally groan, because even though I haven’t seen who it is, I already know. And as much as I don’t want to answer, I have to. I stroke her hair, giving her a kiss. I sit up, reach for my jeans at the end of the bed and pull my phone out of my pocket. “Hello.”
“Right now?” I rub at my eyes. “Is it an emergency? I know what I said. If he needs me, I’m there. I will always be there for him no matter what…all right. I’ll be there. Put him on.” A short pause, then Jackson’s little voice comes through. “Hey, buddy. I know. Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon. Lay back down with mommy. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Love you, buddy.”
I don’t want to turn around and be faced with yet another broken promise. Her warm hands wrap around me, her lips pressed against my spine. “I’ll come back. I’ll stay until he falls asleep.”
“That’s silly. You’d be setting yourself up for a night of driving back and forth. Your son is sick. I understand. Go.”
I feel like the worst boyfriend and a crappy dad. Because in all honesty, I want to stay here with her, so she knows she is cared for. No more, no less. She is equally as important.
I get home, and they’re awake. Despite it all, I smile, seeing my son with Bree, holding him in her arms, awkwardly half-sitting up with her leg elevated.
She looks at me, relief evident. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She lightly strokes his hair off his forehead. “He wouldn’t stop asking for you. He woke with a slight fever. Not enough for medication. He said he had a dream you left and didn’t come back.”
“Hey, bud.” I kiss his forehead, and he’s warm.
His eyes barely open. “Daddy. You came back.”
That shit breaks my heart, that he would even have a doubt I would. I sit on the other side of the bed, pulling him into my arms. “I will always come back for you. I love you.” Bree smiles at me and strokes his back. A short while later, his breathing evens out. He’s sound asleep, and so is Bree, with her head resting on my shoulder.
This is what it should be. I feel guilty, and torn in two different directions. I should be happy with this. But I’m not. Not without Lace. It’s hard to explain that to your kid and a woman who still loves you, who in many ways I still love.
I pull out my phone and send I message to Lace. One I hope she knows.
