40. Comparing It To Us
COMPARING IT TO US
“Hey,” Baker said the next night.
It was past seven. Micah was already in bed. And Tasha had asked him to come over. Not earlier, not when the little boy would race toward him with that crooked grin, but now, when the house was quieter.
Almost too quiet.
He hadn’t seen Micah since Sunday. Hadn’t scooped him up or chased him around the patio. Hadn’t kept him busy while Tasha handled the million invisible things motherhood demanded of her.
He missed it more than he wanted to admit.
Missed the way Micah said his name—Bakeeeerrrr—dragging it out like it was the punch line to a joke only he understood. Missed the giggle that followed, the proud flash of that small, toothy grin like he’d invented happiness himself.
Standing there now, he realized how quickly the kid had carved out space in his life. How easily and how permanent it felt.
And that, more than anything else, caught him off guard.
It wasn’t a fight for the woman he loved. It was a fight for the child he was coming to consider his.
“Come in,” she said, holding the door wide. No welcoming hug. No kiss on the cheek. Just sadness in her voice, chased by more in her eyes.
“What’s going on? Did you set up a time for Shane to meet Micah yet?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. He hasn’t gotten back to me. He said he would, but… nothing. Maybe he’s lining up an attorney. I don’t know.”
“And you hate waiting,” he said, his eyes searching for any clue as to what was racing in her mind.
“There’s nothing I can do about that situation.”
The way she emphasized it sent a prickle up his spine. “But there’s something you can do about another one?”
Her gaze dropped. “I don’t want to fight,” she said softly. “And I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You’re not,” he said, though it took effort to keep his voice even. “I’m giving you space when everything in me is telling me not to.”
She swallowed. “I appreciate it. I do. But I think I need more. For now. It would be best for everyone.”
The words hit hard, familiar in the worst possible way.
It felt like history repeating itself. Like he’d opened his hands, offered everything, or been ready to, and still came up empty.
“Not best for me,” he said, his edge slipping through despite his control.
He wanted to shout. To tell her she was wrong.
He wasn’t running, so why was she?
“It is for me,” she said, her voice a little stronger. “You’ve got a lot going on in your life. I know you do. You’re trying to push it off, but it’s there.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your father. Your mother.”
He waved his hand. “Tasha, I’ve been dealing with that shit my whole life. This isn’t anything more.”
“Is it?” she argued. “I know. I’ve talked to Brittany. She’s trying to brush it off and her doing that tells me it’s something neither of you wants me to know. I get it. It’s not my business, but I don’t need to put my crap on your shoulders either.”
He ground his teeth. He had no idea Brittany was talking to Tasha about their parents.
“There isn’t anything to hide. I haven’t hidden once what was going on there.”
“You’re not hiding the words,” she said slowly, “you’re hiding how they make you feel.”
A short, bitter laugh tore out of him. “Are you kidding me? You don’t know me well enough to decide how I feel about anything beyond what I tell you.
And I am telling you the truth. I’ve been honest from the beginning.
I can handle it. I can handle Alexa getting engaged.
I can handle whatever is happening with you.
What I’m sick of”—his voice rose despite himself, —“is people assuming I can’t handle things when I’ve been carrying everyone else my entire life. ”
She recoiled like he’d lashed out physically.
“Whoa. Stop.” Her eyes widened. “Alexa is engaged? Since when? How do you even know? Why haven’t I heard a word about this?”
“Because it wasn’t worth bringing up,” he said flatly. “It means nothing to me.”
“If it means nothing,” she shot back, “why say it now?”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “Because it slipped. It slipped because my mother was riding me again. Telling me I don’t know how to love, don’t know how to keep someone, that if I can’t figure it out I’ll always be alone.
And then she threw in that even Alexa has moved on. That she’s engaged.”
She started pacing and every word he’d just said, he wished he could have rewound.
“That still doesn’t change the fact that you could have told me,” she said. “It makes me think it is bothering you. You’ve been quiet for weeks. How am I supposed to know you’re not replaying that relationship in your head and comparing it to us?”
“Don’t give me that shit,” he snapped.
“Lower your voice,” she said sharply. “I’m not waking Micah.”
A harsh breath left him. “You say you don’t want to fight, but it feels like you’re looking for one.
Like you’re pushing me away because you’re scared.
Scared of what we have. Of what this could become.
You’ve done everything on your own for so long that letting someone in feels like too much. Why can’t you just admit that?”
She threw her hands up. “I am admitting it. All of it. What you don’t get is that what I thought I had with Shane was wrong. One-sided. A mistake. I own that. But now I’m staring down the possibility that I’ll have to let that man into my child’s life, and I won’t get a damn say in how it goes.”
“It should have been that way from the start,” he said before he could stop himself.
“There,” she snapped, pointing at him. “That’s judgment. You said you wouldn’t. You weren’t here when I was going through this alone. You don’t know what it took.”
He held her gaze, his breathing not so level. “And even if I had been,” he said quietly, “I don’t think you would’ve let me in.”
“That’s not true,” she argued.
“I think it is,” he said. “You want space? That is what this is about? Why? Be honest. Is it because of what you said, that you have to let someone in and you can’t control it, so you’re going to control the one thing you can?
The one person who has been there for you for months while you dealt with this?
The person who has loved you without condition even though you won’t admit it? ”
Her mouth opened, then closed. Whatever she’d been about to say never made it out.
“Wait,” she said. “This is getting out of hand.”
It was only out of hand because he called her out and he was positive he was right.
He turned to leave. If he stayed another second, he was going to say something that would cut too deep. Something neither of them could undo.
“I can’t do this right now,” he said, his voice tight as he moved toward the door. “I won’t stand here and fight for space I’m being told I don’t have.”
“Baker—” she started.
He paused with his hand on the knob, his back to her. “I meant what I said,” he continued, quieter now, the anger giving way to something rawer. Something actually more painful. “I’m not running. But I won’t beg either.”
He came damn close to it once and once was enough. He still ended up alone.
“Don’t go like this,” she said, taking a step closer.
“Take the space you need,” he said over his shoulder. “Just don’t confuse it with me not caring. This is what you wanted, it’s what you’re getting. It’s just not the way you thought you could control the narrative. So that is on you.”
He wasn’t done though.
No way in hell.
He didn’t remember pulling out of the driveway.
He remembered the steering wheel under his hands, white-knuckled, tight enough to ache with the hum of the engine and his brain telling him what he had to do.
Rather than walk away like she wanted him to, he was going to do what he should have all along.
He was going to let her know that not all men were assholes.
Not everyone was going to be selfish either.
This wasn’t about jealousy. It wasn’t about territory. This wasn’t even for Tasha. It was for Micah.
Tasha wasn’t the only one who could find someone when they needed to.
The GPS announced his arrival before he was ready.
He pulled into the parking lot and sat there longer than he meant to, his chest rising hard, his jaw locked as he forced himself to slow down.
He got out of the car anyway because nothing was going to cool him down.
Each step toward the front door felt heavy with purpose because it was.
He wasn’t here to threaten. Wasn’t here to posture either.
He was here to make one thing clear.
He knocked and waited, then knocked again, the door opening.
Shane frowned, confusion flickering into recognition. “Do I know you?” As if he remembered Baker from being on the bench in the park. Or maybe the guy had done his homework and found out who Tasha was dating also.
None of that mattered to him though.
He met Shane’s gaze. “Yeah,” he said evenly. “You do. And we need to talk.”
Shane’s mouth twisted like he already didn’t like where this was headed. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
He took a step closer, keeping his voice low, controlled, and dangerously calm. “You don’t get to opt out. Not anymore.”
Shane scoffed. “This is between me and Tasha.”
“No,” he said flatly. “It’s between you and your son. And that’s the part you don’t get to screw up just because it’s inconvenient. That’s the part you don’t get to make everyone wait on because you need time to figure it out.”
Shane’s posture stiffened. The guy straightened to his full height, still several inches shorter than Baker, and a few dozen pounds lighter. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” he shot back.
“I know there’s a little boy who didn’t ask to be born into your mess.
I know his mother has been doing this alone while you’ve been off living a life that didn’t include him.
And now you’re just going to sit back and wait while you decide to stay or go? ”
Shane’s jaw flexed. “I didn’t say I was walking away.”
“You didn’t say you were staying either,” he said.
Which was what he was hoping the guy wouldn’t do.
“And that’s the problem. You don’t get to hover on the edges of his life.
” He leaned in just enough to make the point land.
“I don’t care how you feel about Tasha. That ship sailed the moment she caught you in your web of lies.
But she’s not the one on trial here, you are. So here’s how this works.”
“You don’t tell me how anything works.” Shane bristled and went to shut the door in his face, but he slapped his hand to the wood and held it.
He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to.
“Decide,” he said. “Completely. Don’t drag your feet.
Don’t make promises you won’t keep. Don’t give a child hope you’re too selfish to follow through on.
” A second of silence stretched between them.
Shane was either at a loss for words, or had nothing to say.
“He deserves better than a man who only wants to be a father when it’s convenient,” he finished.
“So decide who you’re going to be, because one way or another, Micah’s future doesn’t revolve around your comfort. ”
“You’ve got no right to come here and say that,” Shane said. “If Tasha wants me gone, then she should tell me, but she’s done nothing but make empty threats. Just like you’re doing.”
He straightened, stepping back. “I’m not here to threaten you,” he said. “I’m here to make sure you understand what’s at stake.”
Then he turned and walked away.
If Tasha told him he stepped out of his lane, he wouldn’t argue, but he sure the hell wasn’t going to sit back when it came to Micah.