Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
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Theo looks stunned, like what’s happening isn’t sinking in.
My own thoughts are scrambled, so whatever’s happening in his head must be chaos.
My heart threatened to explode in my chest while simultaneously dropping to my stomach when Oscar asked if Theo was his dad.
That boy is too perceptive for his own good, but with two parents who are lawyers, it shouldn’t come as a surprise, I guess.
The only way was to be honest. Too much time has been stolen from us, and it needs to be fixed.
I watch as a bead of sweat drips down the side of Theo’s face, and I know I need to take the decision out of his hands. “Yeah, bud,” I call over my shoulder. “Dad’s coming for dinner.”
Oscar gathers his things behind me while talking about the new Transformers episode he wants Theo to watch with him. My eyes are glued to Theo’s, though, as I hum noncommittedly at my child.
He wipes his face as if coming out of his trance, nods, then clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m, uh, yup, I’m coming for dinner,” he stutters, a blush forming on his cheeks.
Watching this big, burly man at a loss for words would be pretty amusing if it weren’t for the situation.
“Let me take Oscar home. Come over around sixish?” I suggest, grabbing my coat and briefcase.
“Sure,” he replies, still not moving from his spot.
Ushering Oscar, I lead him out of the building and head for home, all the while lost in my own thoughts.
I’ve been pacing and wringing my hands together for the past ten minutes. I’m so nervous I can’t sit still. As soon as Oscar and I got home, I started dinner, then ran around the apartment like I had a fire up my ass trying to make the place somewhat tidy.
Oscar’s sitting at the dining table doing his homework, utterly oblivious to my impending breakdown. The doorbell rings, and I jump, shrieking as my nerves go into overdrive. I have nowhere to hide my hands, so you can clearly see them shaking.
Get it together, woman.
Walking across the small expanse of my living room, I stop at the door and check the peephole to make sure it’s him. The area we live in isn’t terrible, but you can never be too careful.
Theo’s hands are braced against the doorframe with his head hanging low, and he’s still wearing the same black suit from the office.
I can see his chest rise and fall rapidly, which somehow calms me.
He’s just as nervous as I am. I open the door, and his head swings up to meet my gaze, his eyes uncertain as he looks behind me.
“This still okay?” he murmurs. “I can go if either of you have changed your minds?”
I soften, giving him a small smile. “Get in here, big guy. Go and spend some time with your son. I’m just waiting for dinner to finish cooking, and then I’ll dish up.”
“Okay,” he says, sighing heavily.
I place a hand on his cheek, turning his gaze to me. It’s not something I should be doing, but with him, touching him seems like the most natural thing in the world. “He may not know you, Theo, but he loves you.”
I gesture for him to come in, and he shyly steps around me into the apartment.
My gaze tracks him as he heads toward Oscar.
He stops in front of him, saying something I can’t hear.
Oscar looks up, and I watch my son's face go from quiet and determined to excitement and happiness. My heart does a somersault because that’s all I’ve ever wanted for him—to have more than what I did.
I can’t bring myself to look away even though I should.
Theo sits down on the floor, uncaring about wrinkling his suit as he takes a figurine from Oscar, who begins talking animatedly.
Theo smiles, quietly taking him in, which makes me smile.
I wipe the tears from my face and head to the kitchen, knowing I need to give them some time to bond.
“What do you mean Optimus Prime dies?” Oscar yells from the other room just as I’m putting the finishing touches on dinner. “I don’t believe you. He’s Optimus Prime.”
I glance up to see Oscar storming into the kitchen. “It’s not true, is it, Mom?”
Theo’s hot on his heels, his face a mixture of mortification and horror.
Standing up, my gaze darts from Oscar to Theo. “No lies, remember?” I ask, prompting Oscar to nod and brace himself for the inevitable. “He does. But… he comes back to life.”
Oscar's face lights up as he gushes, “Really?”
“Yes, really.” I laugh, tousling his hair. “Go wash up, dinner's ready.”
He bounds out of the kitchen, and Theo steps toward me, panic written across his face. “Oh fuck. I’m so sorry. I had no clue. I’m the worst parent ever. I nearly broke his heart.”
“Theo, honey. It’s okay. You didn’t know he hadn’t watched them. I was waiting for him to get a bit older first. Sometimes you have to be the bad parent to keep them safe. You’ll get there. Please stop worrying so much.”
“Why is this so hard?” he murmurs, his eyes cast down.
“Because it's not something you're used to. You’ll get there. Don’t forget, he’s been with me since the day he was born, and I still get it wrong.” I chuckle. “Come on, let’s have dinner.”
He nods before taking a seat at the table, and Oscar comes running back in to sit in his usual spot. I pick up the dinner plates and put them in front of them. “Sorry, it’s not much. I haven’t had a chance to go grocery shopping this week,” I murmur, my cheeks flushing.
Theo places a hand on my arm. “This looks great, thank you.” The sincerity in his eyes tells me he means it, and my heart warms at his praise. I move away, taking my own seat and tucking into the pasta.
Both of them eat like they haven’t been fed in days.
I smile, noticing they both eat the same way—mixing all the spaghetti with the sauce, then twirling it around on their fork.
Oscar always said I was strange for cutting it up into small pieces, but the thought of slurping my pasta makes me feel nauseous.
Theo finally breaks the silence. “What do you have planned for your birthday, little dude?”
“Dunno. Whatever Mom decides to do,” he replies around a mouthful of food.
“Oscar! Manners,” I scold, an eyebrow raised.
He gives me a sheepish look as he apologizes. “Sorry.”
“To be honest, I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” I admit. “I’ve been so focused on this case it’s flown out of my mind.” I feel awful saying it out loud, but it’s the truth. I’m only human.
“One of my friends had a Marvel-themed party in his backyard. All the superheroes turned up, and he had the biggest cake ever,” Oscar says enthusiastically. “Can I have a party like that?” He glances at me with big doe eyes, and I hate to say no.
“I’d love to say yes, bud, but we don’t have the room here, and I don’t know anyone with a big enough garden.”
Theo clears his throat. “If it's okay, I have someone who can help with that.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, not wanting to put him on the spot.
“Absolutely. We’ll talk more when little dude has gone to bed,” he says, smiling.
Oscar turns to his dad, returning his smile. “I like that nickname.”
“Good,” Theo replies, ruffling his hair. “I happen to like calling you it.”
We finish with dinner, and then Theo helps me clean up my small kitchen.
Oscar ran off as soon as we were done. I set rules in place for him—he keeps his bedroom tidy and toys neatly in the living room, and I deal with the kitchen.
I tend to get worried he might hurt himself with a knife or scissors, so I prefer for him to stay out.
I wash up the dishes as Theo dries. We work in comfortable silence, our hands brushing every so often. It feels nice. Domesticated and not something I would ever associate with him. He’s never struck me as the type of guy to want a family and a home, but in some weird way, it suits him.
I can feel his attention on me as I work, but I’m too scared to look.
Too afraid to get lost in those eyes of his.
Putting boundaries in place with a man I once loved more than anything else in the world seems hard to do.
My body sure as hell wants him, but my mind is screaming, beware.
He hurt us once, and he can do it again.
His body brushes up behind me, his breath hot on my neck, and I let out a sigh. His cologne scents the air around him, and I relax back into him.
Just for a second. Let me enjoy this just for a moment.
“Thank you,” he whispers against my neck.
“What for?” I breathe out, closing my eyes as goosebumps pepper my skin.
“For raising our son on your own. For being a badass. For being… you.”
Tears spring to my eyes. If only he knew how much of a badass I wasn’t. How many days over the years I’ve spent crying myself to sleep or crying in the bathroom so Oscar didn’t see that everything was too much for me. If he knew any of that, he wouldn’t be saying thank you.
“You do what you have to do to keep going,” I whisper, willing the tears to recede.
He turns me around, gently cupping my jaw. “Look at me, firefly,” he says softly.
My eyes open, and my gaze meets his. The look he’s giving me is so much like how he used to look at me—like his world began and ended with me.
I force down the sob that threatens to work itself free, ignoring it in favor of digging my head in the sand and pretending none of this is happening. I can’t let him unravel me.
I’ll get my second chance at love again… maybe. Oscar needs to be a bit older, and I need to be more settled in my career.
Excuses, a voice shouts internally.
Shaking my head, I move away from him, walking to the coffee machine. “Coffee?” I ask, forcing a smile.
He looks at me intently, his eyebrow raised, before nodding. “Yeah, I’ll have one. I don’t sleep much anyway, so it won’t matter.”
“You don’t sleep much?” I ask, glad to be on a safer topic. One that has nothing to do with us and the past.
He runs his fingers through his hair and exhales a short laugh. “Nah. I get exhausted to the point where I’m falling asleep at my desk or on the sofa, but once I get into bed, I’m wide awake, scenarios of every past mistake I’ve ever made and ones still yet to come running rampant.”
“That must be awful,” I muse. I’m lucky; as soon as my head hits the pillow at night, it's lights out until either my alarm or Oscar wakes me up in the morning.
“You get used to it.” He shrugs and goes back to drying up the last of the dishes.
I take that as my cue he doesn’t want to continue the conversation, so I head into the living room to get Oscar ready for bed.
Knowing I need to get out of this death trap called a bra, I go into my bedroom while Oscar’s changing and put on my pajamas.
They’re nothing sexy—a black vest top and black jogging bottoms, but they’re comfortable.
I was so focused on everything else earlier that I hadn’t thought to change out of my work clothes.
Letting out a sigh, I make my way back to the living room, where I hear Oscar and Theo talking quietly. “Okay, bud. Time to say goodnight. You can see Dad another day.”
“Yeah, little dude. We have a party to plan.” He winks.
Oscar hugs Theo, who looks taken aback for a moment before he engulfs him in return, squeezing him close.
“You’re not going to leave again, are you?” Oscar whispers, still firmly attached to his dad. “I’ve only just got you back.”
I hear Theo clear his throat, and my eyes dart to his. They’re glossy, and he’s swallowing thickly. “I can promise you on my life that I’m never going anywhere again, Oscar. Wild horses couldn’t drag me away.”
Feeling happy with what Theo said, Oscar lets go and says, “Goodnight.” In the meantime, both Theo and I seem to be feeling the same emotions—hand over our hearts with tears in our eyes. Why do kids have to be so freaking cute?
Following behind Oscar, I give Theo one last look.
He’s watching us both go, a small smile playing at the edges of his mouth, and that’s when it hits me—there will be no second chance for me.
My heart was stolen the moment I met him, and I’ll never get it back.
Theodore Moore owns my body, mind, and soul.
I’m just never going to be able to tell him that.