25. All My Heart
Tomorrow comes sooner than I’d prefer. The coward in me wants to wait, wants to argue that it’s too soon, that it’s none of her business, but that wouldn’t be fair to Oliver. He’s already been through enough back and forths; he needs this, and I need to be brave enough to give it to him.
“What did you tell her?” I ask as we drive toward the suburbs of Woodstock, toward his mom’s house—the house where I used to be her partner and Oliver and Mason’s stepdad.
That house is the same house where I lived six years of my life, where we were a happy family of four.
The house where I used to consider Oliver my son.
No one is more puzzled than me that this is how we’ve ended up.
“I told her there’s someone I’d like her to meet,” Oliver says.
My jaw tightens. She’ll expect some guy the same age as her son, someone in his early twenties at the most. She won’t expect… me.
“Are you scared?” Oliver mumbles as we turn off at the highway exit.
“Aren’t you?” I ask, hands flexing around the wheel.
“Yeah… but not for the same reason, I guess.”
“Then why?”
He stays silent, and my heart aches when I realize what he means.
“Oliver… I told you I won’t leave you.”
“Okay.” His voice is barely more than a breath, shaky and strangely resigned, like he doesn’t believe me. Like he’s preparing himself for all possible outcomes.
I should prepare myself as well. I won’t leave Oliver, but Kim might try to convince him that he shouldn’t be with me, and if she does, I…
I don’t want to let him go. God, I really don’t want to let him go.
I’ve spent so much time thinking I’m not good for him, but since that evening with the twins, I saw a different reality.
A reality where I’m exactly what he needs, despite everything.
Our past is how we started but not how we’ve ended up.
I just happened to come into his life at a time he needed me most. First, when he was seven and couldn’t take care of himself.
Then, when he was older and still craving a person like me in his life.
He needed me both times in different ways, just like I needed him. Just like I still need him.
When we stop in front of Kim’s house, memories flood my mind. The last time I was here, I left in a flurry after packing my things, barely saying goodbye to the boys I considered my sons. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to.
The house looks the same. White wood exterior, two floors, and a sizable garage where I used to spend most of my time when I wasn’t in the kitchen.
Here, I lived out my white picket fence dreams with Kim and her children.
The more I think about it, the more I don’t think I loved Kim as much as I loved being Oliver’s dad. Being needed.
Her car is in the driveway. She’s home from work early for once; it’s only seven.
Back when we were together, she used to work until late.
I was the one to make dinner for the boys.
I was the one to make sure Oliver got into bed on time.
I was the one to pack their lunches, help them with homework, wash their clothes. I did everything for them.
Sometimes, I believe Kim let me into her family simply because she needed someone to take care of the boys and the home while she got her career off the ground. A pragmatic and convenient choice rather than a choice driven by any sort of love. It doesn’t bother me now, but it used to.
Oliver rings the bell, and she opens the door in the process of pulling her blonde hair into a bun. She wraps it tightly and pins it into place, giving a quick smile at the sight of her son.
“Oliver. Good to see—” Her gaze lifts to me, and her light blue eyes flash with recognition, then narrow when she connects the dots.
We’re not holding hands, but I suspect she sees the same thing Mason saw. The invisible tension in the air—just a feeling—of two people who love each other.
“What is this?” she asks, piercing me with an icy glare.
In the six years since last I saw her, she’s barely aged.
She’s a few years older than me, but I never noticed our age gap when we met.
That wasn’t why we broke apart. If I choose to, I can see the beauty in her that I saw then, but other than that, our relationship feels utterly foreign, like a different life that wasn’t my own.
“Mom.” Oliver straightens his shoulders, steeling himself. “Like I said, um, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
Kim’s hard gaze shifts from me to Oliver, then back to me, and when Oliver grabs my hand—lightly, like he’s afraid I’ll pull it back—her mouth tightens into a straight line.
“Can we come in?” I try not to think about how bizarre it feels to see her after all these years, let alone the gravity of what I’m asking. I’m asking her to let me into her home, holding her son’s hand—not as a father, but as a partner.
She hesitates for a beat, then sends a glance behind us and ushers us inside. Like I anticipated, she’d rather keep this private than make a scene on her front porch.
While the exterior hasn’t changed much, the interior of the house has been upgraded with a new, larger living room couch and new kitchen appliances.
Kim stops on the other side of the kitchen island and crosses her arms. “I’m going to assume I’m misunderstanding something here.”
“You’re not mistaken.” Oliver gives my hand a squeeze. “We’re together.”
Kim shakes her head, and there’s nothing joyful about her smile. “No, you’re not.”
“It wasn’t planned,” I say, letting go of Oliver’s hand to make things a bit less overwhelming. “It just… happened.”
Her glare shifts from Oliver to me. “Is this payback, Logan? Playing this trick on me?”
I shake my head. “It’s not a trick; it’s the truth.”
Her gaze flits between the two of us for a while as I see her mind working. Finally, she gestures upstairs. “Oliver. Go to your room.”
I put a hand on his shoulder, trying to shield him from her glare. “He’s not going anywhere.”
“I want to talk to him alone,” she tells Oliver.
I shake my head. “Anything you want to say, you can right here.” I won’t allow her to send him away. Oliver hesitates for a moment, then he pulls his shoulders back, staying by my side.
Kim sighs. She places both hands on the kitchen island counter, head down for a while before she tilts her gaze back up to me. When she speaks, her voice is terrifying, ice-cold and furious. Above all, it’s quiet—silent disbelief and rage rolling off her in waves.
“You were in our home. You knew him as a child. And now I’m supposed to believe this is… what, exactly?”
I grimace, her words dredging up my own guilt, the way I’ve felt ever since Oliver showed up on my doorstep on that rainy day.
“I know it’s complicated.”
“Complicated?” She gestures sharply with her hand. “This isn’t complicated. It’s wrong, Logan. Nothing you can say can make this right.”
“Right or not, it happened.” It can’t be undone, and I don’t want to undo it.
“Why didn’t you tell him no?”
I sigh, dropping my shoulders. “I tried.”
“Well, you didn’t try hard enough,” she sneers, gesturing sharply in the general direction of Oliver. “And now look what’s happened. You have a lovestruck, delusional nineteen-year-old on your hands—the very same nineteen-year-old you used to call your son.”
“He was,” I say calmly. “But he’s not anymore. I’ve let him make as many choices as I’ve been able to give him, and he’s still chosen me every time.”
Kim gives a joyless laugh. “Of course he has! He’s put you on a pedestal since he was a child. He’s not thinking clearly.”
“People change, Kim. Things are not what they used to be. And now we’re adults, and we’re choosing this.”
“He’s nineteen.” Her nostrils flare as she closes her eyes, as if she’s stopping herself from doing something rash. She was like this when we were together, too. This controlled, cold rage. She doesn’t explode; she burns, and that heat is scalding enough to flay you open.
My heart beats faster, my hands clenching into fists. “Kimberly…”
“Don’t!” For the first time, she raises her voice. It’s hard to provoke her temper, and the times I’ve seen her anger explode are few.
“Don’t yell at him.” Oliver steps forward. “It’s not his fault.”
“And you.” Kim glares at her son, eyes blazing.
“You don’t understand what you’re doing.
This isn’t a… a relationship.” She scrunches her face up, as if she’s disgusted by the notion.
“You’re nineteen; this feels bigger than it is.
When you’re older, you’ll look back at this and be embarrassed, or worse, realize he took advantage of you. ”
“It’s not like that. And I know I’m young, Mom, but this is what I want.”
She huffs and shakes her head.
Oliver bristles. “You can’t just discredit everything I say because of my age!”
“You know what? I can, and he should too.” She points at me. “The fact that he’s not only makes this worse.”
Oliver takes my hand in his. “I love him. That hasn’t changed. Just the expression of it.” His cheeks redden, and I can’t help the rush of embarrassment striking me as well. Yes, our love has changed in many ways indeed.
“Why did you come here?” she asks finally, shoulders shaking. “You want my blessing?” She spits the word out like she tasted something foul.
“I don’t need your blessing,” Oliver mutters.
“I do,” I say.
They both stare at me, and I take my time selecting my words carefully.
“I was kept from him once, Kim. I won’t let you separate us again.”
Kim’s mouth turns into a thin line, and Oliver looks up at me, tugging my sleeve.
“What do you mean you were kept from me?” he asks.
Kim crosses her arms, face pale. Sighing, I turn to Oliver, easing my hand off his.
“I never wanted you to know any of this.”
Oliver frowns. “Know what?”
I send Kim a glance before looking back at him, fearing now what I feared then. I didn’t want him to know… Didn’t want to risk ruining his relationship with his mother. But it’s time. He has to know. He’s old enough, and when he knows the truth, he can make his own decisions.
“Your mom and I didn’t end things because I stopped loving this family.” My chest clenches with old, painful memories. Betrayals, endings, and a family shattered. “She’d already started seeing someone else.”
Oliver blinks. “What?”
“A man from work.” By the time I found out, Kim and I had already drifted apart, but it still hurt.
Oliver looks to his mother instinctively. “Is that true?”
Her delicate features pull into a frown.
“But that isn’t why I disappeared,” I continue.
Oliver snaps his gaze back to me. “Then why?”
I swallow hard. Beyond the infidelity, this is what hurt me the most. “Because when I said I couldn’t stay in the relationship, your mom told me that if I left, I wasn’t allowed to see you or your brother anymore.”
“It wasn’t—” Kim starts, but I shake my head.
“Just let me finish.”
“Why didn’t you fight?” Oliver asks, lower lip trembling.
“She was your mom, but I wasn’t your dad as far as the law was concerned. I thought taking it to court would make your lives even worse. I thought… if I stayed away, eventually you’d stop missing me. Every choice felt like it would hurt you, so I picked the one I thought would hurt the least.”
Oliver’s eyes fill with tears as he looks at Kim.
“Mom?” His eyes are pleading, as if he’s asking her to refute everything I said and tell him it’s a lie.
Kim stays silent, though, and when it’s clear she won’t deny anything, Oliver’s tears turn to anger, his fists clenching by his sides.
“How could you do this? Why didn’t you tell me? ”
“He was gone,” Kim mumbles. “It didn’t matter anymore.”
“Of course it mattered!” Oliver yells. “You saw me cry myself to sleep for months. You saw me fail classes. And all this time, I thought he wanted nothing to do with our family, including me. How could you let me think that?” His voice is shaking, his whole body vibrating with hurt.
“Oliver…” She shakes her head. “It’s complicated. I was trying to do the right thing for our family.”
“But he was part of our family! And you ruined everything.” His voice breaks, and the moment he bursts into tears, I haul him into my arms. He shakes as he cries, his muffled sobs wetting my shirt.
“It’s okay,” I murmur gently. “It’s okay, Ollie.”
Kim watches us, studying the way I’m stroking his hair and how his arms clutch desperately around my waist.
“Does Mason know?” she asks after a while, holding her arm with her opposite hand as if to steady herself.
The rage in her eyes has faded, replaced by a quiet somberness—not just guilt, but the exhaustion of it all, worn down by the secret she’s kept for years.
Now that it’s all out in the open, maybe we can all find peace in the truth.
Gently, I disentangle myself from the hug. “About me and Oliver? Yes. About you and me? No.”
“Then I’ll tell him,” she says quietly.
I nod, feeling a whisper of the wordless respect we used to have for each other once upon a time.
She was the most beautiful, generous, and kind woman I’d ever met, and I don’t know what happened along the way, but I know we were happy once.
And now, even though she doesn’t say it, I know she’s going to let Oliver and me be happy in our own way.
She doesn’t need to approve of us, but she can accept that things are the way they are, and that he needs me just as much as he wants me, and that I’ll take care of him. That’s all.
As Oliver looks up at me with tear-stained eyes, all the guilt I’ve harbored for so long melts away, and the world melts with it, until there’s only him, my sweet Ollie, and me, the man who loves him with all my heart.