Chapter 16 Cookies With A Side of Tears
Cookies With A Side of Tears
GWEN
Buddy sits in a chair beside Caleb like he’s the official cookie-decorating supervisor, paws perched on the edge, head tilted, eyes following every move we make.
Caleb and Wyatt are shoulder-to-shoulder at the island, both of them laughing so hard that more icing is going on the island than the cookies. Caleb holds up his cookie proudly.
A very … white Grinch.
“Caleb, the Grinch is green,” Wyatt says, baffled but amused.
“This isn’t the Grinch, Daddy,” Caleb giggles.
“He’s not the Grinch?” Wyatt leans in, eyes twinkling. “He looks like the Grinch.”
“He’s the abominable snowman! That’s why he’s white!”
I can’t help it—I laugh at the look on Wyatt’s face. “He’s right,” I murmur. “He does look like the abominable snowman.”
Wyatt shoots me a mock glare. “Traitor,” he jokes good-naturedly.
“Nu uh, Daddy! She’s Gwen!”
That makes me and Wyatt both grin at one another.
The house feels warm, golden. Safe. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted in my life, but never had until Wyatt came into my life.
I’ve been trying to go slow with him—or as slow as Wyatt will let me.
Yet, every moment I’m with him, my mind and heart insist that I stop holding back.
I want to give this man everything that I am.
I want to be a part of Wyatt and his son’s lives.
Before I do something stupid—like tell Wyatt that in front of Caleb—the doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it,” Wyatt says, still smiling as he puts the icing down, leans over and kisses my forehead, and then, ruffles his son's hair. With one final look at me—a look filled with the same hunger I’m feeling—he heads toward the foyer.
The second he’s gone, I grab two icing markers and wiggle them at Caleb. “Blue eyes or green eyes for the Abominable Not-Grinch?”
His little hand reaches confidently for the green marker. “Green, ’cause it’s Dad’s favorite color.”
“It is?” I ask, surprised.
“Yep! Don’t you know that?”
I look down at him, my eyes soft. “Well, your daddy and I just started seeing one another. I haven’t learned everything about him yet.”
Caleb hums thoughtfully, piping two giant green circles—easily too big for the cookie’s face. “When you learn everything about him, will you get married?”
My entire body feels as if I’ve been plunged into the ocean in Antarctica. “Oh,” I breathe. “Um … well, we’re dating, so when you do that, you get to know each other and take it day by day. You enjoy time together. That’s all.”
Caleb frowns. “Adults are weird. Things are simpler when you’re my age.”
“You know what? That’s kind of fair,” I giggle.
He keeps decorating, his tongue poking out in concentration. “Why don’t I tell you all about my daddy?” he says, very matter-of-factly. “Then, you guys can get married and go to the doctor and get me a baby brother.”
I blink—struck speechless. Then, I try to get my breath and rapidly blink again.
“Wow. Okay. That’s … a plan.” I swallow.
“But things don’t always work like that.
Sometimes you have to take your time. If I’d rushed things, maybe I wouldn’t have met you—and then we wouldn’t be decorating cookies together. You know?”
He pauses, tiny shoulders lifting and falling with a sigh too heavy for someone so small. “Do you think if you and Daddy get married?” he asks, his words barely audible.
“Caleb—”
“If you do, do you think you might want me to be with you guys?”
The way Caleb asks—small, unsure, like he’s bracing for a blow—hits me harder than anything ever has.
He stares down at his cookie, making the eyes even bigger, maybe so he doesn’t have to look up.
He seems folded in on himself, like he’s trying to make his heart smaller so it hurts less.
I gently lift his chin with my fingertips.
“Caleb,” I whisper, “I’m new here, but there is one thing I definitely know.”
His eyes—wet, worried—search mine. “What’s that?”
“That your daddy loves you more than anything or anyone in this world.”
“Even you?” he asks.
“A lot more than me.”
“He does?”
“Definitely. He always wants you with him. Even when you’re at your mommy’s. He loves you so much that he misses you every second of every day and wishes you were with him.”
“You really think so?”
“I know it.”
He swallows hard. “Then why can’t I just stay here? With you and him?”
A knot forms instantly in my throat. My pulse jumps.
Oh God, where is Wyatt? I’m not qualified for this.
I don’t want to say the wrong thing. I run my fingers through Caleb’s hair, searching for words that won’t cut more than they heal.
“Because if your daddy did that, you’d miss your mommy.
And your mommy would miss you. Sometimes Daddy has to share you—even when he doesn’t want to.
He does that because he loves you enough to let everyone who loves you have time with you. ”
Caleb’s lips tremble. “I don’t really want him to share me. Mommy doesn’t even like me.”
His words slice through me like a blade—sharp, precise, burning as it cuts, cauterizing everything it touches so my heart keeps beating yet somehow feels hollow afterward—echoing with grief that’s not mine and yet sits heavy in my bones.
“Oh, sweetheart …” My voice breaks. “That isn’t true. No one could have a son like you and not love you with their whole heart. You’d make her horribly sad if you weren’t in her life. Daddy knows that. That’s why he shares you—so she isn’t missing out on your love.”
He shakes his head slowly, defeated.
“Mommy doesn’t want me. She told me she wished I had never been born.”
My heart stutters painfully in my chest. How could anyone say that to this beautiful child? “I think you misunderstood her,” I murmur, praying I’m right. If I’m not, then Caleb’s mother is truly a monster.
“I didn’t!” he cries, voice cracking. “She was mad at Dad because he wouldn’t give her more child sport.”
Support. He means support. If he weren’t breaking apart right in front of me, that slip would’ve made me smile. Instead, I open my arms, offering him the only comfort I know how to give him.
“Come here.”
He launches himself at me, sobbing into my shoulder. Buddy whines loudly, distressed, shifting on his chair like he wants to help but doesn’t know how. And suddenly … The air changes. It thickens. Gets Heavy. Becomes Angry.
I look up—and freeze. Wyatt stands in the doorway, fists clenched at his sides. His face is a storm—rage, pain, fury so sharp it could split the room in half. His eyes are on Caleb in my arms. On Caleb crying. On me holding him.
“I—Wyatt—” My voice is shaky. I don’t want him to think this is my fault.
But before I can explain, Caleb jerks his head up, sees him, and cries out, “Daddy, I want to stay here with you and Gwen!”
Wyatt draws in a breath that rattles his entire chest. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse, rough, and scraped raw.
“Come here, son.”
I help Caleb slide down. He runs straight into Wyatt’s arms. Wyatt picks him up immediately, holding him so tight I can feel it across the room.
“Wyatt—” I try again.
He looks at me … then shakes his head while mouthing two words. Not now.
He carries Caleb to the island and sets him gently on the counter. Buddy jumps down, nails clicking on the floor, pacing anxiously. I think I even hear him snarling. He doesn’t like Caleb hurting … neither do I.
“Look at me, Caleb.”
Caleb lifts his head, eyes swollen and red. The sight nearly knocks the air out of my lungs. He looks broken. Like a little boy carrying more weight than he should ever have known existed.
“Does your mom tell you that crap often?” Wyatt asks, voice low.
Caleb nods. “I try to be good, Daddy. But Mommy says I’m nothin’ but twubble. I swear, Daddy, I try not to be. I even m-m-make my bed.” His voice cracks, and he folds into Wyatt, sobbing. “I wanna stay here. If you tell me how to be good, I won’t be twubble. Please?”
Buddy wails—a tiny, heartbroken sound—and leaps up, wedging himself between father and son. Wyatt loosens his hold just enough for Buddy to reach Caleb’s face, licking him in frantic little strokes.
Caleb clings to both of them, shaking.
Wyatt gathers both Caleb and Buddy back into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s head. His voice is gravel soft, trembling with rage and grief and love. “You don’t have to go back, son. You can stay here.”
My breath lodges in my throat. Oh God. He can’t promise that. Not without court orders. Not without lawyers. Not like this. I bite my lip, forcing myself silent, but panic erupts inside me when Wyatt lifts his eyes to mine.
“Wyatt,” I whisper, hoping to stop him, because God help me, I can see in his eyes what he’s going to say, and it terrifies me.
“You’ll stay here. You, me, Gwen, and Buddy will all live here together.”
Caleb pulls back enough to look up at him. “You mean it? We’ll be a family?”
Wyatt nods once, solid and sure. “Yeah, Bub. That’s what we are … a family.”
Shit. My body jerks as if I’ve suffered massive internal damage and, in a way, I have.
Wyatt just gave me everything I will ever want in this life, and yet it’s not real.
He’s offering stuff that he doesn’t have the power to give—promising what he can’t grant.
The truth in that is like a punch straight to the sternum.
What the fuck is he thinking?
When Caleb is forced to go back to his mother’s, it will kill him.
It will kill me.
Anger keeps filling my blood. I’m so pissed, but I force myself to lock it down. I have to keep my shit together—at least until I’m alone with Wyatt and then … I’m going to beat the hell out of him.