Chapter 23
Noah
Peeking into his room just after seven thirty, I couldn’t wait for Max to wake up.
His eyes are open, and he pushes himself to his feet with a big grin as if he’s been waiting on me for hours to save him. “Dada.”
“Hey, buddy,” I say, picking him up and hugging him to me. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
I change his diaper and rock him back and forth against my chest. His room is peaceful, the hour still early enough for him to relax in my arms.
“I don’t remember when I was your age, Max, but I remember my mom coming to get me in the mornings when I was a little older.
” It’s only one core memory, but I remember how it made me feel.
“I was old enough to walk and run, to tell my mom what I needed, but I didn’t need to.
She already knew. She’d hold me in her arms when it was just the two of us.
I never felt so safe, content to leave the day to start without us. ”
A comforted smile crosses my mouth as I stare at my little guy. “I want that with you, buddy.” Blowing his lips, Max babbles and sits up, wiping his eyes. I whisper, “Good morning.”
“Sun,” he replies, pointing toward the window.
“Yeah, sun.” The word rolls around my mind and on my tongue.
I open the shade, and we stare out the window together.
Leaning in, I kiss the side of his head, realizing the significance.
“Son.” He glances at me, but then returns his attention back out the window.
“It’s a nice view, kid, but one day, I’ll get to take you to my hometown.
It’s called Beacon. Can you say Beacon?”
“Be.”
“Close enough.” I hold him in place on my lap as he looks uninterested.
I’m not going to let that deter me. “Beacon is a little drive but not too far. You can meet my mom and dad, my brothers, and my sister. Your aunt Marina will love spending time with you.” Tickling his tummy, I ask, “Would you like that, Max? I know I would.”
We sit in the chair, and I hold him upright while he bounces on my legs. He hasn’t had breakfast, so I know our time is limited before hunger strikes. He’s like his mom that way, from what I’m gathering. Half a smirk consumes my face.
And then Max mimics me.
He’s not all his mom in characteristics. “I think we got another lady-killer on our hands.”
His leg goes straight out, and he pushes away. “You want down?”
“Dow.” Dow. He’s so close to saying new words. I don’t know what he’s supposed to say at his age, but I’m impressed. I set him on his feet. He holds on, but soon enough, he’s toddling away.
I won’t claim I’m not sleep-deprived. I am. But seeing him trying to leave . . . leave me hits me in the feels, making my chest ache. I’m unsure if it’s that or the harsh reality that I’m returning to my apartment today.
Without Max.
Without Liv.
Without my heart still intact.
Fuck.
It’s probably best if I don’t dwell on the inevitable. I scoop him up and bring him into the living room. Liv’s attention is captivated by the sight of him, and she’s already heading straight for him with her arms open wide. “Good morning, Maxwell.”
As I watch her hug him, the love she has for him on full display makes one thing certain. I could never harm him by keeping them apart for long, even if it hurt me. I must be strong for the sake of my son and for both of them.
She smiles when she opens her eyes. Her expression is soft and gentle in nature but also genuine.
I understand this on a deeper level now, and I’ve only known him since Friday night.
Max is mine. I still can’t seem to wrap my head around that fact.
It feels too big to comprehend in such a short time.
I embrace them, dipping my head and placing a kiss on both of their heads.
Liv doesn’t fight it. She leans in, wrapping her free arm around my back.
Max is a wiggler, but I wouldn’t expect anything less.
I always had trouble sitting still as well, but he doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation either.
We’ll always make sure to shield him from our troubles.
Stepping away, needing the space to start a gradual separation—physically and emotionally—I ask, “I can feed him if you have something you need to—”
“I don’t have anything to do.”
“Oh.” I nod, realizing distance won’t make my heart stop beating. Losing them will. “Okay. Well . . .” I shove my hands in my pockets. I watch as she sets him in his high chair and moves around the kitchen. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be doing. “Am I in the way?”
“No,” she replies, coming so close to me that it’s tempting to kiss her while I can.
“You’re not in the way, Noah.” She takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen with her.
“After feeding him, we can be as busy or lazy as we want. It’s Sunday.
” The way she includes me, as if that’s the only natural assumption, shifts my mood to a better space.
She stops suddenly. “I almost forgot. My mom is going to watch Maxwell for me tonight.” Looking up from the dish she’s preparing him, she waggles her eyebrows.
Wonder where she got that move. I chuckle.
“She said she can take him for the night.”
I’ve not met her mother, but she sounds like an important part of Liv’s and Max’s lives. “What are you thinking?”
“I think we should take her up on the offer. It’s a long drive to the play, but we wouldn’t have to worry about returning by a certain time.”
She sets a plate of food in front of the little man and then turns to me, where I’ve sat across the table from her. Maybe it’s the lighting or the sun shining in her eyes, but it looks a lot like excitement highlighting her eyes. The green is brighter, but the gold glimmers.
Her hair’s in a mess on top of her head, and she’s wearing no makeup, but she doesn’t need it. Still wearing the T-shirt from this morning, she’s added a pair of shorts. She’s fucking stunning, making my heart hurt.
“She has a full nursery setup,” she starts. “And is on the Upper Westside.”
“Sounds like there’s a question for me in there.”
“Since we’re driving a long way tonight and it will be late, I was thinking,” she says, her fingers fidgeting just at the edge of the table.
“Maybe you could stay here again tonight? With me?” I don’t have time for a breath, much less a reply, when she adds, “You can say no. We both have work in the morn—”
“Yes.”
She searches my eyes as if she didn’t hear me. “Yes, you’ll stay?”
I nod, not keeping her in suspense. “I’ll stay.”
“Even if Maxwell’s not here?”
I reach over and rest my hand on the table in front of her, palm side up. Looking between my hand and my face, she slips her hand into mine with the sweetest smile. “Even if he’s not here. I want to stay with you.”
Her fingers lie flat against my hand, and we look at them.
Hers are so much smaller, but the feelings this connection evokes is bigger than the two combined.
When a banana slice slaps against the skin of her neck, causing her to flinch, and then slowly peels back and falls to the floor, I don’t see anger come over her. She laughs.
Quick to straighten her face, she pulls her hand away and angles back toward him. “Do we throw food, Maxwell?”
He’s nodding like a little terror high on sugar.
“No,” she says, “we don’t throw food.”
His head bops around on his neck as if he’s just discovered he can move it. She covers both his hands in hers, stilling him, and repeats the question as calmly as the first time. “Maxwell?”
Looking at me, he says, “Dada.”
“You’re on your own, kid.” I stay quiet to let her handle it because she’s the expert.
She asks, “Are you going to eat the food, Maxwell, or throw the food? If you’re going to throw it, I’ll put it away until you’re ready to eat.”
“Foo,” he calls out.
The tension from her expression softens, and she smiles at him. “Okay, food.”
When she turns back to me, I ask, “How did you learn to do that? I have no idea how to discipline or even talk to him.”
“You’re doing great. He loves when you talk to him.
For me, I try to give him choices to let him make the decision on how to proceed.
Sometimes it works out. He did great just then.
He let me know what he wants to do.” On the tail end of a roll of laughter, she adds, “Sometimes he throws the entire plate.”
“You make it look easy, but I know it’s not.
” Getting this insight stirs emotions I’m unfamiliar with.
Unsettled, I stand, crossing my arms over my chest, and stare out a window.
With so much on my mind, I think about my mom and how she would have been the first I told under normal circumstances.
I turn back to her. “I want to tell my family.”
Her smile wipes free from her face. “Tell them what?”
“Tell them about Max. I . . .” I drop my arms back to my sides, hoping this doesn’t upset her.
I might be wishing too much, but we’ll work together better if we’re in agreement on most issues.
“I would have never kept this from them if I’d known.
” Coming closer, I stop, keeping space so she doesn’t feel trapped.
That’s the last thing I’d want her to be, much less feel.
“Since I know, I can’t keep him a secret. I don’t want to.”
Liv stands, takes a step toward the kitchen, and then stops.
Her back faces me, and I know she’s fighting her instincts to react.
One of her hands balls at her hip, and her head drops down.
She moves into the kitchen and opens a cabinet that hides most of the view of her from me. “I understand, but maybe we should—”
“Your mom knows. She’s gotten to be a part of his life since before he was born.”
She stills, but I see her chest fill and slowly exhale. Gripping the counter in front of her, she replies, “Please understand that I had no one but my mom.”
“I do, but my mom—”
The abrupt swing of the cabinet door closing stops me from speaking.
There’s no satisfying slam since they’re soft-closure doors, but the effect still ripples from ten feet away.
I’m hit with her tear-filled eyes, her parted lips as if she can’t take in enough air, and a slight bend to her spine as she rests her weight on the countertop.
I should go to her, reassure her like I’ve been doing, like I’ve done, but I can’t.
My feet won’t move until I get every word out.
“They’re already going to be disappointed that they missed so much of his life and the celebration beforehand—baby showers, gender reveals, the health of both of you.
Don’t ask me to keep him a secret, Liv, because I can’t. My family doesn’t lie to each other.”
Her back springs straight. “It’s not a lie, Noah,” she says, just above a whisper as if Max won’t hear a thing even though he’s sitting between us. Maybe that’s how it’s going to be. Max being the only thing bridging us together. “I just—”
“You just what?”
“I need time.”
“Time for what? You’ve had time.” I move around Max and into the kitchen.
She stays where she is, but her arms are now crossed over her chest. I’m not putting her on the defense, though I know she won’t believe me.
That’s not something I can change. This is a tough topic.
“I need to be honest about how I’m feeling.
My mom will be thrilled to meet him but devastated over the time she’s lost being in his life. ”
Stepping closer, I continue, “Imagine how much more love he’ll have in his life.
I have three siblings, my parents, and my sisters-in-law.
” I close the gap, reaching out to unwind her tightly wound arms. Holding her hands, I kiss each one and then bend to look into her eyes.
“You’re Max’s mom, so no matter what happens, you’ll always be a part of the family. ”
She crashes into me, her head on my chest and her arms wrapping around my midsection.
The lightest sound of sniffling is heard as I cover her in an embrace.
“I don’t know what being part of a family means.
It’s always just been my mom and me, and Cassandra more recently.
That’s been enough. To know there’s more .
. .” She looks up, resting her chin on my chest. “I don’t think I could have wished for a better man to be Maxwell’s father than one who not only accepts him without conditions but accepts me as well.
So I’m at a loss of what to say. Thank you? It’s not enough.”
“It’s not necessary. You’ve given me a son. I will never be able to repay you.” I rub her back and kiss the top of her head. “I want us to have a good relationship. That means we’re always honest with each other. Even when it’s hard.”
“Even when it’s hard.” Her voice cracks at the end. She nods again and takes a step back. “Do you want to tell them tonight when you’re in Beacon?”
“We won’t be there long enough to open the topic up for discussion. Let's focus on enjoying the evening. I also want to support my sister. But how do you feel about me telling them at another time?”
Taking my hand, she folds our fingers together and smiles. “It’s scary for me—the unknown—but it’s exciting for you and Maxwell. I think I’ve already overstepped the issue. I don’t get to control who you tell or when. I just ask that this is kept out of the office.”
“I can do that.” Pulling her to me, I slide my other hand around her lower back while staring into the windows of her beautiful eyes. “I have another question.”
“Okay.”
“When do I get to tell everyone in that office how fucking amazing you taste?”
She laughs, the playfulness returning as she whacks me in the arm. “Tomorrow if you’re looking to get us fired.” Sexy smart-ass.
“Different topic. I need to head to my apartment.” I look back at Max and then to her again. “But it feels wrong to leave you guys.”
She sighs, looking down again. “I know what you mean. Are we rushing things?”
I'm not sure, but at least we’re doing it together. “We’re going at our own pace.”