My heart falters in my chest. "That's just sad."
He shrugs. "Been my life for the past three years, I've grown used to it."
After some time of Hunter searching his thoughts, I know I can't allow this to go on any longer. If so, we’ll be here by the time the dinner rush starts walking through the door. A decision needs to be made, and it looks like I’ll be the one making it.
Mom comes over with a giant smile and an order pad. We place our order, and she leaves without another word, more than likely homing in on the unease we’re exuding. I take the envelope and place it right between us on the table. His eyes burn into the top of the envelope like it's personally threatening his very way of life. And I guess, in hindsight, it is.
These results will change everything.
And I need him to understand why, without letting Maverick hear. So, leaning forward, I motion for him to do the same. His delicious smell tingles my nostrils, the effect causing my nipples to pebble under my shirt. Shifting slightly, I try to ease the ache subtly, without him noticing.
Thankfully, he doesn't. "I know the results. I know the truth. Whatever is on this sheet of paper, I don't need to see. So, if it'll make you feel better, take this envelope and look at it when you're ready."
He peers up at me, with a look that screams his uncertainty. And while he may be uncertain about my words, he should be uncertain about this.
"I'll not allow my baby boy to be anyone's second choice. If you want in, you're in. For life. So, you better be ready for it when you come calling."
His eyes flick down to my lips and back up. "What about you? Us?"
"What about it?" I retort, angling my head.
He sighs, his warm breath teasingly caressing my skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. "You know what I'm talking about, Lo."
Unfortunately, I do. And while things have been pretty simple and stress-free, except for that one mishap at the apartment, that doesn't mean it always will be.
I think about it, long and hard. Turmoil churns in my stomach. When my decision blares inside my head like a stop sign, I nearly cringe from the aftereffects. It's brash, loud, and so damning at the same time. A choice that makes me feel hollow from the inside out.
Emotion builds in my throat as I push the envelope into his hands, nearly whimpering as his familiarity wraps around me in the form of feeling his hand close around mine. We stay like that for several minutes, him expecting a response and me being unable to give the answer to the question he seeks. It's not that easy, and honestly, giving in would probably be too toxic for our own good.
Squeezing his hand once, I holler to Mom to make our drinks and pastries to go. Then, I glance back at Hunter. My chest feels like it’s shredding open. My heart is screaming, mine, mine, mine, even while my mind is screaming, leave and save yourself.
And this time ... I'm going to listen to my head and get out while I can.
"We were over a long time ago."
"Maverick, please, honey, put your pants on," I groan, trying to get him to lie still and get dressed.
He's been restless since we left Hunter in Mom and Pop’s and came back to the apartment. That was four days ago. Ever since we've not seen hide nor hair of him, and I can only assume why.
He's finally read the test results and wants nothing to do with Maverick. It's only an assumption, of course. But the silence speaks louder than his actions as of late.
Surely, he would have put his big boy pants on and decide to take care of his son. Hunter was never the person to shuck his responsibilities, and Maverick is certainly his.
"Daddy!" Maverick cries out, trying once more to scramble across the bed and get away.
For the last few days, I've been pushed to my limits. I'm exhausted, weary, and in need of a long, hot bath with relaxing lavender-scented bath salts. My muscles ache from trying to restrain my little boy and make him happy again. But he's not happy, and I don't think he will be again unless Hunter shows back up.
Fuck, this is what I tried to prevent in the first place. Maverick doesn't need to get attached to someone who's not going to be there for him. And the sad thing is, Jenna has stepped up more than Hunter ever has. She's been there, watching Maverick as much as she can. She never once turned her back or took multiple days to decide.
She's been here the entire time, and I'm at the end of my rope. I feel like I'm suffocating, and I have no way to catch my breath. The walls feel like they’re pressing in on my lungs and forcing the air out of them.
The urge to cry is strong, nearly overwhelming, but I reign it in. Crying in front of Maverick will only distress him even more.
"Maverick," I reprimand, huffing in frustration. "Stop moving, and let me put your shittin' pants on."
He stops abruptly, eyes wide and shimmering with tears. "Mommy cuss."
Before I can assure him it's not, the loud screech of his cries bounces off the walls of my bedroom. His hands and legs slap down on the bed as he throws the most awful tantrum I think I've ever seen him have since he was born. His cries grow louder and louder, tears trekking down his pink cheeks.
"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" he yells over and over.
And finally, I can't take it anymore. At the end of my bed, with my arms hanging limp at my sides, the emotional stress overwhelms me, and I start bawling my eyes out right along with him. I’ve never felt so raw and untethered before.
Covering my face, so Maverick doesn't see the worst of it, I try my best to cry as silently as possible, but it doesn't work. Seconds later, my door is opening, and familiar arms wrap around me from behind.
"It's okay, Lo," Jenna coos, making me cry even harder.
I shake my head. "It's not, Jen. He has the proof, and he still hasn't so much as showed his face."
"We don't need him."
Speak for yourself. My heart clenches at the notion that races through my mind. I hate myself for still feeling what I shouldn't for him. He's done me dirty, and this makes the second time he's tucked tail and ran.
I can understand his leeriness over being a father because anyone would be scared for a job as magnanimous as that. But that doesn't mean he gets a free pass for making Maverick sad that he's not here. That doesn't give him a free pass for making my life pure hell. Because, whether my mind likes it or not ... I miss that surly bastard.
"I'm afraid he needs him." Without saying Maverick's name, Jenna knows exactly who I'm talking about. I don't want to say his name because that will upset my son even more. And I can't have Maverick even more torn up over the absence of Hunter than he already is.
"Hey," she says, pulling back and turning me in her arms. "Why don't we go to the park? It's right near campus, and I'm sure Mav would have an absolute blast!"
At the mention of “park,” Maverick's crying ceases to sniffles. He lies there on my bed, staring up at the ceiling in thought, looking so much like a miniature adult.
"You say park, JJ?" he asks.
Our eyes meet, Jenna's lips spreading into a Cheshire smile. She's such a lifesaver! Her years of babysitting are helping out in this co-parenting thing. Because let's be honest, she's the one I'm doing this with, not Maverick's dad.