Back to Willow (Back Series Book 1)

TWENTY-NINE

“Dylan! You can’t treat people like that. You even closed the door on Uncle Jake and Nana’s faces!”

My cheeks are burning with embarrassment—most likely red, too—and if this moment was being drawn in cartoons, I’d have steam coming out of my ears. I am not raising my son to be rude.

“They have a key. They can come in,” he huffs.

This was not supposed to happen. They shouldn’t have met this soon. Knowing Dylan, he is still very much affected by how hard he saw me crying last night. He’s only ever seen me that way after a panic attack, a couple of times. So, he knows it’s a bad thing. Now he has linked that sadness to Liam as well—which honestly, is not ideal. I needed more time to be able to explain who Liam is and what he means to me. But I should have guessed. Fate is never on my side, and this is no exception.

“That is not the point, young man,” I scold. “Liam is a friend. You can’t treat him like that.”

“He made you cry!”

“And? What have I told you about meddling in adult conversations?”

“To not stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Exactly! Now, Liam’s a friend, and it’s not your place to be rude.”

“A friend?” he enquires, tilting his head.

Oh?

“What do you mean?”

“I heard Uncle Jake and Nana at the park. He is your boyfriend, and you didn’t tell me!”

Oh god, those two forget that Dylan understands a lot more than they realise.

“What did I tell you that Liam was?” I press, crossing my arms over my chest.

“A friend,” he grumbles.

“And have I lied to you before?”

“No.” He looks down, suddenly interested in pressing the tip of his foot against the wooden floor.

“Then there you have it,” I answer him. His shoulders sag with the finality in my voice. “Now, let’s go apologise.”

“What? No,” he exclaims when I motion for him to reopen the door. “He…he made you cry!”

“Baby,” I call before crouching to his height. He immediately comes to me, grabbing my face as he usually does. “We used to be best friends, just like you are with Abby. But I hadn’t seen him in years. There was a lot we needed to talk about—we still do.” Because I still haven’t told him the whole story. “I was emotional, but it wasn’t his fault.”

“You promise?” I nod with a soft smile. “Alright, then.”

The determined look on his face makes me chuckle before I stand and bring him with me to the front door. Outside, the three of them, who seem to have been talking in a hushed tone, stop completely upon seeing us. Jake looks proud while Nana seems amused. The only one who is as nervous as me is Liam.

“Go on,” I tell Dylan, slightly pushing him forward.

He stumbles on his feet before looking back at me with widened eyes. When I nod in encouragement, he takes a few steps forward and starts, “Well, sorry.”

Dylan’s head is turned to the side, letting me know he is not even looking at Liam. He doesn’t mean it. Liam’s mouth opens, and I raise my hand, cutting him off.

“Dylan,” I warn.

“I’m sorry for being rude, I guess,” he mumbles, an ounce of annoyance palpable in his voice.

This boy.

“Jake,” I reprimand when I notice him covering his mouth and poorly hiding his chuckle. “Do not encourage this behaviour. You’re worse than him!”

“What did I do? I kept quiet,” he whines.

“I already apologised,” Dylan whines, looking at me expectantly.

Everyone else just seems amused, even Liam. But still, I don’t give up the fight. He needs to understand he can’t be rude.

“Not properly, I—”

“It’s alright,” Liam chimes in, cutting me off. Then he crouches down and talks directly to Dylan. “I’m sorry too, buddy. I didn’t mean to make your mother cry, but we both got emotional.”

“She told me,” he answers, still with a cold demeanour. “She even told me you were best friends.”

“She did?” he asks, clearly surprised. When he nods, Liam questions, “So, am I forgiven?”

“Yes.”

“Then, how about a handshake to make the truce official?”

They shake hands, with this boy still giving him the side eye now and then. It’s so natural and spontaneous that it’s entertaining. It’s a good restart for them to be friends. It makes me wish they are father and son when they clearly look so much alike. Not only physically but also personality-wise.

The reminder of those times the condom broke sparked a tiny bit of hope inside my heart. I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass because apparently, that is what life enjoys doing to me.

But as I look at both of them, in the same space, knowing about each other’s existence. It takes such a heavy weight off my shoulders because this was what I dreaded the most. And the world didn’t fall apart in the end, even if it felt like it for one night.

“Do you want to stay for lunch, Liam?” Nana asks, catching my attention.

“Uhm.” He looks at me with panic in his eyes. It’s too early. “I can’t actually. I have a shift starting in a few hours, so I need to rest. Maybe some other day, if Willow and Dylan don’t mind,” he answers with an easy smile.

Dylan hums in approval at the fact the he was included, and I suppress a snort. This is exactly how one conquers my son, and Liam has just gained his one positive point.

Is my kid six years old or sixteen?

“I have to go now,” Liam warns, looking at his watch. “Thank you for giving me a second chance, buddy. I promise we will be great friends.” He winks at Dylan and ruffles his hair.

Then he proceeds to hug Nana and shake Jake’s hand before turning to face me. He caresses my cheek before giving it a lingering kiss. Then, he murmurs, “Sorry for everything and thank you for this.”

A sudden movement rips Liam’s body from mine, making me gasp.

“Don’t you have to go?” Dylan grunts, a frown marking the spot between his eyebrows.

Instead of being able to keep serious, Jake snorts, and Nana starts laughing loudly, immediately cancelling any kind of authority I could try to invoke.

I am about to apologise to Liam for my son’s rudeness when he starts laughing out loud. Then he nods and ruffles Dylan’s hair again before walking back to his car. He laughs all the way.

“Let’s go have lunch,” Nana decides after a few moments.

They chuckle and taunt Dylan as we go inside, completely ignoring the rising curiosity they have about how the conversation with Liam went. I know they want to give me space and not overwhelm me, but it’s visible in their eyes every time they glance at me.

“How about you watch a movie while we make lunch?” I ask my boy.

He nods, and we walk inside the kitchen. Nana and I start the food while Jake sets the table.

“Ask away,” I give in, letting them harass me with whatever questions they are keeping inside.

“Did you finally tell him everything?” Jake is the first to ask. “Can you finally tell us?”

I’ve talked about it twice by now. A third won’t kill me, right?

So that’s what I do. I spend the next hour preparing lunch, telling Jake and Nana everything. Even more than I told Liam.

I tell them everything carefully and make sure Dylan doesn’t hear. Nana cries with me while Jake goes into shock before hugging us tight against him.He too blames himself, just like Liam did, thinking about how he could have prevented it when he couldn’t. No one could.

And no one did.

And that’s fine; I’ve accepted it by now.

It’s my life, my pain, and my burden to carry. No one else’s.

“My baby, I am so proud of you,” Nana murmurs as I help her serve lunch after finishing the food.

Jake has gone to call Dylan, and as usual, it takes them a few minutes to come back.

“Thank you, Nana. I couldn’t have done it without you.” I press my forehead down to hers.

We haven’t been spending a lot of time together because of my busy schedule, but I love this woman so much it hurts. And since I can’t show her that, I try to do it most of the time by not making her worry and not tiring her.

At this age, she should be spending her life savings on futile things like vacations and luxuries that she probably couldn’t afford when she was my age and yet, here she is, taking us in and helping out as much as she can when my parents didn’t.

This woman is gold, and I don’t intend to let her go ever.

“I love you, Nana,” I whisper.

“My princess, you’ll have everything you deserve. You’ll be with your soulmate, and you’ll be a happy family.” Her soft breath fans my face while her frail hands grip my cheeks. “You are the best mother I’ve seen. Better than I was and so much better than your shitty mum,” she grumbles.

“Nana!” I scold.

“What? She may be my daughter, but I can recognise a pretentious bitch when I see one!”

“What’s a predentius bich?” Dylan’s voice chimes from the other side of the kitchen, and I jump, surprised.

Oh, bollocks. He heard that.

“It’s a bad person who thinks she’s more important than others when in reality they’re not,” Jake answers smoothly.

“Oh, like Jaden’s mum?” His excited voice worries me.

“What do you mean, Dylan?” I take him from my brother’s arms and sit him in his seat at the table.

“The other day when Abby’s mum was picking us up, I saw Jaden pick on one of my friends, Marcel. He was saying he was different and ugly, and when I got there, I told him he was dumb because he isn’t different, and his mum heard. She said it was obvious Marcel was different and shouldn’t be mixed with normal kids like Jaden.” He frowns in confusion, looking at his friends. “But, Mum, Marcel isn’t different from us.”

“I know,” I answer. “He was at your party, remember?”

Why would she say that? It can’t be because of his skin colour…could it?

“She said that black kids need to have another classroom,” he confirms my fear, while Nana and Jake gasp. But he continues, ignoring us, “She’s wrong. So, she’s a predentius bich!” His unfamiliarity with the words forces him to say them funny, making all of us chuckle.

“You’re right, baby. That she is.” This time around, I’m not even going to correct him. Because he is right, so I just kiss his forehead and sit down next to him.

We all happily dig in, conversing and chuckling at Jake and Dylan’s antics. All the while, I keep going back to this lingering thought of how proud I am of this kid and how expectant I am about the man he will become one day. Just this small moment has told me that even though I might be struggling, I’m doing something right, and that puts my heart to rest.

Because I can do it.

I am doing it.