“Are you anxious about heading back to school in a few weeks?” he asks me as we wash the dishes side by side after dinner, Connor and Bear playing on the living room floor.
“Yes,” I admit with a sigh. “My school schedule is so demanding, and this year will be even more so. Connor and I never spent so much time apart.”
“What’s your biggest worry with that?”
“That he’ll think he isn’t my priority. That he’ll feel less loved, less important.”
“I get that.” He hesitates, like he’s sorting his thoughts. “My schedule starts to pick up in September, too, and I’ll be out of town a lot. I think I’ve been a little worried about you feeling less important to me too.”
“I don’t think it’s about the time we have, but how we spend it when we’re together.” I press a kiss to his bicep before pressing up on my toes and fusing my mouth to his as his forehead comes to rest on mine. “And you always make me feel important when we’re together, Adam.”
“And I think you always make Connor feel important and loved when you’re together. So I get where you’re coming from, and I know you’re feeling guilty, but if it’s any consolation, I don’t think there’s a way in hell that kid over there feels anything other than so loved by you.”
Pressing my lips together to hide my smile, I squint up at him, poke his stomach. “I see what you did there. Sneaky boy.”
He chuckles, winking. “For what it’s worth, I am genuinely worried. But I know I’ll do my best to make you feel important, just like I know you’ll do your best with Connor, because you always do. You do it effortlessly, Rosie.”
“Maybe it seems that way, but it’s not easy.”
“No, because effortless doesn’t mean easy. It’s effortless because love is meant to be natural, something you feel so deeply and nothing can change it. But all love is hard sometimes.”
“It’s worth it though, isn’t it?”
He smiles, tucking my hair behind my ear before kissing the tip of my nose. “It’s always worth it.”
“Dada?” Connor appears between us, tugging at Adam’s shorts.
Adam ruffles his hair. “What’s up, little trouble?”
“Ee-ya, ee-ya, bo?”
“Ee-ya, ee-ya, bo?” Adam’s brows pull together as he repeats the sounds, trying to figure out what Connor’s asking for as he drags him into the living room. “Yeah, we can ee-ya, ee-ya, bo. For sure.”
Connor points at the TV. “Ee-ya, ee-ya, bo, Dada?” He puts his hands in the air and starts dancing around as Adam keeps repeating the sounds, almost silently, trying to piece them together. “Ee-ya, ee-ya, bo !”
Adam blinks, then throws his head back. “Oooh! E-I-E-I-O?”
Connor grins, clapping his hands as Adam finds a music video for “Old MacDonald Had a Farm.” “Ee-ya, ee-ya, bo !”
My heart smiles so big as Adam scoops Connor into his arms, dances around the living room with him without a care in the world, the two of them singing at the top of their lungs, laughing, quacking like ducks, mooing like cows, meowing like cats. This man is so at home with a child in his arms, like it’s a role he was always made to fill. That he does it so effortlessly, and with nothing but enthusiasm, only makes me fall that much harder.
“Old MacDonald” turns into “The Wheels on the Bus,” about seventeen times over while I sit and watch, snap a few pictures that quickly become favorites, and as I’m about to break up their party and tell Connor it’s bath time, Adam’s phone vibrates on the counter next to me.
“You have a phone call,” I tell him.
“Not important,” he says through his laughter, Connor and Bear crawling on top of him.
“It might be. They’re calling again.”
“All right, c’mon, buddy.” He stands, flipping Connor over his shoulder, carting him into the kitchen with one hand while he squeals with laughter. Adam takes his phone, frowning at the call before declining it. “Don’t recognize the number. If it’s important, they’ll leave a message.” He drags Connor over his shoulder, the two of them nose to nose. “It’s someone’s bath time, and I might have gotten some special blue bubbles, just for you.”
Connor gasps, chanting one of his favorite words as we head upstairs. “Bub-bow ! Bub-bow !”
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I murmur a few minutes later as Adam dips him in his bath, boats and ducks floating along in a sea of turquoise bubbles. I peek over my shoulder at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling above the playpen, the tractor nightlight casting a dim glow over the room, and something thick clogs my throat.
“Sure I did. He’s part of this relationship too. I want him to feel like he has a space here, and I never want you to feel like you have to deal with something on your own.”
There’s that R word, the one that stops everything inside me except the frantic race of my heart. I want to ask him about that, where we are and where we’re going, especially with the end of summer looming. Me, back at school, in my busiest year, and him back at work, traveling with the athletes he works with. The worry etched on his face earlier in the kitchen seeps into my bones, but not because I think I’ll be any less important to him. But because, after a summer full of him, of us, the idea of going so many days without seeing him, without being wrapped in his arms, held under the steady weight of his gaze, draped in his affection…it floods me with a startling emptiness.
It’s in this moment, with Connor gazing at Adam with so much adoration as this man gives him all his attention, loves on him, acts silly with him, and just…has fun with him, I realize how full life has felt with him in it. Connor’s always been the only family I needed, but I think with Adam…maybe he completes us.
Adam runs his hand up the back of my thigh, squeezing. “Connor and I can manage bedtime on our own. Why don’t you go run yourself a bath to wind down? Don’t wanna brag, but the one in my room is the best there is. There are eighteen jets.”
“Eighteen?” I breathe out.
He winks. “Eighteen.”
God, I can’t remember the last time I had a bath. The idea of relaxing for a few moments, peace and quiet where my mind is all my own, it sounds…well, to be honest, it sounds made up.
I take Connor’s face in my hands, pressing a kiss to both cheeks, his nose, and then his tiny pout. “Can Adam put you to bed tonight, baby?”
Connor points to Adam. “Dada.”
“Adam.”
He pats Adam’s hand and smiles. “Dada.”
“Ad—” I sigh. “Okay. Yeah. Mama loves you, buddy. If you need me, I’ll be right here.”
The oversized tub in the corner of Adam’s bathroom is every bit as glorious as he promised. There’s even a stack of fluffy towels and a brand-new bottle of bubble bath waiting for me, like Adam planned for this.
I turn the faucet until the water runs steamy and pour in a generous helping of bubble bath. Sweet vanilla mint and coffee fills the room, and I close my eyes to the smell. My bag waits for me on the bed with clean clothes to change into, but so does one of Adam’s clean, oversized T-shirts, and I’d so much rather be draped in him.