“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
She smiles at me. “Despite the shitty circumstances, I’m happy you’re here. It’s a little disconcerting to see you so grown up. I’ve been remembering you as you were. But you look great.”
“I’m glad you’re well, Juliet. And you look beautiful, as always.” It’s painful for me to look at her. Not only because of her deceit, but it also stirs up so many happy memories.
We leave the office and she closes the door behind me. Walking side by side down the hallway, I watch our shadows on the white tile floor. Even with her heels, I tower over her. It’s surreal that I’m here right now. How many times have I dreamed of seeing her again?
How many times my first year of school did I pick up my phone to call her and chickened out?
And now the universe has forced our hand by bringing us together. As scared as I am for what this could mean, in one sense I’m relieved. I know about my son and I’ll be stepping in to help raise him. Things may become increasingly complicated until we sort out all the finer details, but we’ll work through them for our son.
When we reach the gallery area, she pauses and touches my arm. “I’m glad you came tonight.”
“Me too.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Say goodbye to Liz for me.”
I nod. “Will do. Good luck with the rest of your show.”
“Thank you.” She presses her lips together in a small smile before walking off. I’ve barely made it across the room when Liz finds me.
“I thought it was best that I left,” she says. “I hope you’re not mad.”
“No. Why would I be? I’m a big boy and need to deal with this on my own. It’s not your responsibility.”
“I know, but I want to be here for you.”
I press a kiss to her temple. “You’re always there for me.”
“How did the rest of your conversation go?”
“We didn’t kill each other.” I smirk.
Liz hugs my arm. “Don’t hate me for saying this, but I feel bad for her.”
“I know. I do too. She’s been through a lot. I can’t help but feel like I made a horrible mistake by not telling her how deeply I loved her. That could’ve changed everything and there’s nothing I can do to go back and fix things.”
“Well, introducing you to your son is a good start. The rest will take care of itself.” She squeezes my arm.
“I hope you’re right.”
The doorbell chimes and a wave of nausea assails me. I rub a hand over my stomach. If anyone had told me two days ago that I’d be standing here, I’d have thought they were crazy. I hear Juliet pause on the other side of the door. Her shoes clicking on the floor give her away. When I hear the knob turn, I’m tempted to retreat, but I force myself to inhale and exhale slowly.
Tugging open the door, Juliet smiles and I force a matching one on my face. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she repeats, looking as uncomfortable as I am.
“Come on in.” Stepping inside, my eyes make a quick scan of the foyer while she closes the door. “Emmett is in the living room. I wanted to talk for a minute before the two of you meet.”
“Does he know who I am?”
“Not yet. I told him an old friend of mine was coming to visit,” she explains.
“How long do you plan to wait until you share that I’m really his father?” I can hear the tension in my voice, even though I’m trying my hardest to remain calm.
“I don’t have a particular amount of time in mind. I thought we could see how it goes and decide when it’s right. I thought you might like to be here when I do have the talk with him.”
“I would, thank you.”
“Are you ready?” she asks.
I give her the first genuine smile in four years. “Hell yeah.”
She angles her head toward the living room and then walks with me. The sound of Emmett giggling greets us, and I chuckle.
“Emmett, I want you to meet a very special friend of mine.” He turns, looking away from the TV, and I gasp when I get a clear glance at him. He rises from the couch and hurries our way.
“He looks like me,” I whisper. Overcome with emotion, my voice cracks.
“He does,” she agrees. “Aside from the lighter hair he got from me, he’s a shrunken version of you.”
“Emmett, this is Emmett.”
“We have the same name,” he exclaims.
I nod, beaming. “We do. I’m so happy to meet you.” I bend down, extending the wrapped box in my hands. “I brought you a present.”
He takes it from me. “Thank you.”
“Nice manners, Emmett,” I tell him.
“Can I open it, Mommy?” His eyes sparkle with excitement.
“Sure.” Juliet glances at me. “You look just as excited as,” she pauses, “Emmett.” Was she going to say our son? It’s going to take some time for both of us to get used to my new role.
“Mommy, look.” Emmett holds up a box with a t-ball set. “Can we play now?”
“Why don’t we save it for tomorrow,” she suggests.
“Please, Mommy.”
“I need to finish making dinner.”
“I can play with him,” I offer. “If that’s okay.”
“Can he, Mommy?” Emmett bounces up and down. He’s so adorable, I bet it’s tough to refuse him. Besides, I’ve been deprived of enough time with my son. No matter how much of an adjustment this is for her, it’s harder for me.
“Go for it. I’ll be busy cooking dinner. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”
“Come on.” Emmett takes my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and my heart climbs to my throat, forming a giant emotion-clogged lump. My fingers close around his tiny hand and I never want to let go. My vision blurs with tears and I quickly swipe them away, but I feel Juliet watching me.
“I’ve got a roast cooking in the oven and I baked chocolate chip cookies for you. Not that I expect cookies to fix anything, but they used to be your favorite…and when have homemade cookies ever hurt?”
Chapter Ten
Emmett
I can’t believe this little, perfect human is mine, that he’s part of me. His tiny hand wrapped in mine is the thing I was missing most and didn’t even realize. He points to the back door. “Open this.”
“Say, please open this,” I correct.
“Please open this.” He does as I instructed, and I grin.
“Good boy.” I’m so proud of him.
A beautiful blue-sky day, the weather couldn’t be better for us to be outside. I set up the blue base and add the red T. “Emmett, grab a ball.” He picks up two, bringing them to me. I set one on the base where there’s a space allocated specifically for that and place the other on the T. I hand the oversized bat to my son and position him the correct distance away. “Bend your knees and choke up on the bat.” He bends lower but doesn’t move his hands, and I realize he’s too young to know what I mean. I take his hands and move them up a little before assisting him through a slow-motion swing. He giggles when the bat connects with the ball and it falls to the ground. “Now, you try it without me.”