Chapter Ten #2
“No, seriously. Don’t feed her out in the open.” Mason’s face reddens. “You’re… you’re all exposed. Please go upstairs to feed her.”
The request hangs in the air.
A year ago, I might’ve said okay. Six months ago, I might’ve reached for a blanket.
But today?
“Actually,” I say, meeting his gaze, “I’ll feed our daughter wherever I choose.” I shift Anna gently against my shoulder. “But she’s done eating.”
I stand, adjusting my sweater with calm precision. “I’m going for a run. Margaret, would you mind watching the monitor? I’ll bring it down before I leave.”
Margaret nods, a little too quickly. Jules offers a small, satisfied smile. One that says finally. And Mason? He doesn’t have a word to say. A muscle in his jaw twitches and he follows me upstairs, gearing up for round two.
But I have something else in mind.
“I don’t appreciate being spoken to like that in front of my parents,” Mason mutters, unzipping his bag while I lay a sleeping Anna in her crib.
“I’m sorry, Mase.” I turn and lift my top over my head, letting the moment unfurl as my breasts spill from the nursing bra, full and tender.
Making sure he’s watching, I slide out of my jeans, revealing lacy boy shorts.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I part my legs and lean back on my hands, presenting the body he once couldn’t get enough of. “Can I make it up to you?”
He looks me over, but instead of desire, all I see are the same dull, bored eyes I’ve been seeing for months, since my pregnancy started to show and my body changed. Grabbing his clothes, he disappears into the closet.
I change fast, not looking in the mirror.
And that’s been the biggest shift over the past year. No matter how distant Mason and I have always been, he wanted me. That desire was the tether; the thing that made it bearable.
But now? I’m invisible.
That shift—quiet at first, now loud and unmistakable—has turned the space between us into a chasm. Something I can’t smooth over or deny. And because we don’t talk about things in our marriage, it festers, grows in the silence and stretches wider with every passing month.
***
After dinner, Margaret whisks Anna away, giving me a rare moment to enjoy uninterrupted adult time.
I settle beside Jules and the others out on the back deck, the fire pit crackling behind a curtain of sparks and smoke.
The air is crisp, the kind that bites your nose but feels oddly comforting.
Conversation flows easily, a rhythm of familiar banter and easy laughter.
Jules and Tom fall into their usual game of one-upmanship. Their version of foreplay.
“You won’t believe what happened during a delivery last week…” Jules begins, launching into a wild tale of medical chaos that sounds more like Grey’s Anatomy than anything from a real hospital.
Tom counters with an equally absurd story, eyes sparkling, trying to out-charm her.
Being surrounded by adults is a reprieve. But I’m quieter than usual, unsure how to slip in when my world revolves around nap windows, cluster feeds, and baby-wearing hacks.
Ivy snuggles beside James, draping her legs across his lap. He sits stiffly, hands clenched into loose fists instead of resting on her.
Our eyes meet for a fraction of a second.
Barely anything.
But it’s enough.
Because I see it. The same look he gave me earlier, out on the snowy road.
I’d been burning through a run, lungs aching, muscles tightening, chasing the cold for relief from everything: Mason’s rejection, my own exhaustion, the heat James stirs by existing. Each step cut loose something knotted inside me. Each breath gave me space.
Rounding a bend, I nearly slammed into a body coming from the opposite direction.
The dry, smoky whisper of bergamot and cedar hit me first.
James.
His hands gripped my shoulders, steadying me. He was damp with sweat, breath steaming in the cold, beanie pulled low.
“You good?” His chest heaved with the question.
“Just needed some air,” I said, stepping out of his reach.
“You and me both.”
The moment stretched between us longer than it should have. Until he turned left. I turned right. But the heat lingered.
Now, by the fire, I tip my head toward the stars, inhale the sharp scent of smoke and snow, and sit between two worlds. The man to my right, who will never understand what it is to look at the night sky and wish—and the man across the fire, who ignites something impossible to ignore.
“Syd?” Ivy’s voice cuts through the haze. “How long is your maternity leave? When are you heading back to the firm?”
Jules and I share a look; only she knows how much my old ambitions don’t fit anymore. I want something slower. A life with time in it. A balance between my career and life. One that was always skewed toward work before.
“I have two more months left of leave,” I pause and decide to open the window into my mind and see how Mason reacts. “But honestly, I don’t know if I’ll go back in the same capacity. I’m not interested in sixteen-hour days or chasing the partner track anymore.”
Mason’s smile falters for half a second, then he barks out a laugh. “Leave? More like a paid vacation if you ask me.”
The word he's been rolling his eyes at for months. He’s never outright said it, but I think he expected me to take a few weeks, hire a nanny, and be back to the grind. Because no matter how much he said he wanted a baby, he didn’t want it to shift my priorities.
A quiet, bitter fire sparks in my chest. I think of the night feeds, the sleep deprivation, the cracked nipples and crying jags. The endless effort I give to Anna. And he dares to call it a vacation.
Jules straightens her spine, ready to go to war.
But it’s James who speaks first.
“That’s one hell of a vacation,” he says coolly. “No sleep. Constant caregiving. I wonder when Club Med will start offering that package?”
He leans forward, elbows on knees, eyes fixed on Mason. I hear the challenge in his voice. They stare at each other for a beat before Mason leans back and shrugs.
“I wouldn’t go that far. There’s way too much shit involved for it to be an actual vacation. But come on, I’ve seen our Netflix queue. It can’t be all bad.”
“What the fuck, Mason?” Jules snaps. “Are you seriously this much of a dick?”
James scoffs and walks away. Ivy sits there wide-eyed watching.
“I get it’s not a luxury vacation,” Mason says with a dismissive wave. “But babies sleep too. And when you've got nothing else to do all day, how hard can it be?”
The words land with stinging force.
My vision blurs, but I blink hard, forcing the tears back. He won’t see me cry. Eyes are on me, waiting for my reaction. I give them nothing.
“I think I’ve had enough. Goodnight, everyone.”
My voice is steady, more than I feel. Back straight, steps measured, dignity clutched tight.