paying any attention to Ben, but feeling him watching me.
“You might want to put on a shirt. I’ll feed him in the meantime and then you can read something to him if you want.” I decide to ignore what just happened, or didn’t happen, or nearly happened. I’m way in over my head.
He seems to shake off whatever thought he had and gives me another one of those looks; the ones that make me feel like he can see right through me.
“I’ll be right back then.”
As soon as he’s out the door, I exhale loudly, the air rushing out of my lungs. It won’t be easy having him around if the tension stays this way.
Dean comes into the room and sits down in the armchair.
“You alright?”
“Define alright,” I laugh at him. “I’m torn between wanting to rip his throat out, or his clothes off. Neither is a reasonable option.”
“You still have feelings for him?” Dean asks, although it sounds more like a statement. He knows me too well.
“Yeah, sure. Feelings of anger, hate, dislike.”
Dean just gives me a look that tells me he knows I’m full of shit.
“I don’t know. I...I just wanted to get Thanksgiving over and done with and come back to my life. I have learned to deal with him not being here, with him just having left. And now...now I don’t know. I’m feeling too much all at once.”
“And you want to shut your emotions down like always, huh?”
“Honestly, I’d love to just climb under a rock and hide there until all of this sorts itself out. But unfortunately, that isn’t an option. I can’t let him in again. I don’t want to get hurt once more. I don’t have that strength in me.”
Just then the door opens and Ben walks in freshly showered and in a clean shirt. I hope to God he hasn’t heard our conversation, but if he has, he isn’t giving anything away.
“Ready to put the little man to bed?”
I nod my head and Dean gets up, coming over to kiss the top of my head as he’s about to leave.
Archer is done drinking and I get up from the bed, still holding him in my arms.
“You can sit down in the recliner over there,” I point to the corner. While he turns around, I hide my boob in the safety of my shirt.
“You can read or sing to him. He likes both. He really loves “Happy” by Pharrell Williams, but it gets him too giddy. It’s more of a daytime song, better not sing it now.”
“No problem,” Ben chuckles. He takes Archer and helps him get comfortable in his arms. It’s hard to believe that they’ve known each other for only three days. It seems like they belong together—and I guess they do.
Since Ben is taking care of Archer, I decide to tidy up a bit, especially the bathroom needs it. While I bend down to collect the toys out of the bathtub, Ben starts singing to Archer, and as the first line leaves his mouth, a sob escapes mine. It’s one thing hearing the song on the radio, a whole different thing to hear Bill Whiters’ “Ain’t No Sunshine” in Ben’s gruff voice. He isn’t necessarily a born singer, but there is so much emotion behind it, that I feel like it’s going to bring me to my knees. And I can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to tell me something through the lyrics. But then I reprimand myself for this foolish thought.
I splash some water on my face before walking out. The girl in the mirror is vastly different from the girl I used to be just two years ago. And at the same time, they are still very alike. I realize yet again that life can change in a moment. It’s never stagnant, but flows constantly—taking us places we might not want to go, but it’s easier to just let the tide take us along on the ride instead of fighting against it. And yet, I’m fighting against Ben coming back into my life; trying to hold onto every surface in order not to get swept away and pulled under.
Exiting the bathroom, I notice that Archer has fallen asleep in Ben’s arms. I can’t help thinking that if not for our history, or the current situation
“You might want to put on a shirt. I’ll feed him in the meantime and then you can read something to him if you want.” I decide to ignore what just happened, or didn’t happen, or nearly happened. I’m way in over my head.
He seems to shake off whatever thought he had and gives me another one of those looks; the ones that make me feel like he can see right through me.
“I’ll be right back then.”
As soon as he’s out the door, I exhale loudly, the air rushing out of my lungs. It won’t be easy having him around if the tension stays this way.
Dean comes into the room and sits down in the armchair.
“You alright?”
“Define alright,” I laugh at him. “I’m torn between wanting to rip his throat out, or his clothes off. Neither is a reasonable option.”
“You still have feelings for him?” Dean asks, although it sounds more like a statement. He knows me too well.
“Yeah, sure. Feelings of anger, hate, dislike.”
Dean just gives me a look that tells me he knows I’m full of shit.
“I don’t know. I...I just wanted to get Thanksgiving over and done with and come back to my life. I have learned to deal with him not being here, with him just having left. And now...now I don’t know. I’m feeling too much all at once.”
“And you want to shut your emotions down like always, huh?”
“Honestly, I’d love to just climb under a rock and hide there until all of this sorts itself out. But unfortunately, that isn’t an option. I can’t let him in again. I don’t want to get hurt once more. I don’t have that strength in me.”
Just then the door opens and Ben walks in freshly showered and in a clean shirt. I hope to God he hasn’t heard our conversation, but if he has, he isn’t giving anything away.
“Ready to put the little man to bed?”
I nod my head and Dean gets up, coming over to kiss the top of my head as he’s about to leave.
Archer is done drinking and I get up from the bed, still holding him in my arms.
“You can sit down in the recliner over there,” I point to the corner. While he turns around, I hide my boob in the safety of my shirt.
“You can read or sing to him. He likes both. He really loves “Happy” by Pharrell Williams, but it gets him too giddy. It’s more of a daytime song, better not sing it now.”
“No problem,” Ben chuckles. He takes Archer and helps him get comfortable in his arms. It’s hard to believe that they’ve known each other for only three days. It seems like they belong together—and I guess they do.
Since Ben is taking care of Archer, I decide to tidy up a bit, especially the bathroom needs it. While I bend down to collect the toys out of the bathtub, Ben starts singing to Archer, and as the first line leaves his mouth, a sob escapes mine. It’s one thing hearing the song on the radio, a whole different thing to hear Bill Whiters’ “Ain’t No Sunshine” in Ben’s gruff voice. He isn’t necessarily a born singer, but there is so much emotion behind it, that I feel like it’s going to bring me to my knees. And I can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to tell me something through the lyrics. But then I reprimand myself for this foolish thought.
I splash some water on my face before walking out. The girl in the mirror is vastly different from the girl I used to be just two years ago. And at the same time, they are still very alike. I realize yet again that life can change in a moment. It’s never stagnant, but flows constantly—taking us places we might not want to go, but it’s easier to just let the tide take us along on the ride instead of fighting against it. And yet, I’m fighting against Ben coming back into my life; trying to hold onto every surface in order not to get swept away and pulled under.
Exiting the bathroom, I notice that Archer has fallen asleep in Ben’s arms. I can’t help thinking that if not for our history, or the current situation
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