spending her days out, leaving me with Sunny. Meanwhile, I’m juggling work and trying to pull myself together after Sean.
I’m not dealing.
And dark thoughts have been creeping into my mind.
Thoughts of leaving. Of disappearing.
Of leaving this entire world behind and starting as someone new.
Anyone.
I can be whoever the fuck I want to be.
But that means leaving my boys, and my family, and I made a promise that I would never leave them.
“Bohdi, hey,” Daniel says, looking shocked to see me. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”
“I needed a break. Pregnant wife and all that.”
“Yeah, how’s things going?” he asks.
I shrug. “The same as always, brother. How are you?”
“Findin’ an escape from Sherry, she’s fucking crazy. If it wasn’t for the fact that I know she’d drown on her own, I’d be out of there. But she’s an addict, and I’m trying to get her help so she can get her shit together and I can leave.”
“That bad, huh?” I mutter.
“You have no fuckin’ idea what it’s like living with her. I love her, I wouldn’t be there if I didn’t, but fuck it’s getting harder and harder every day. She’s accusing me of shit and acting completely fucking crazy.”
“Yeah, she paid me a visit a few days ago.”
He exhales. “Fuck. I’m sorry, man.”
“No truth to her statements?”
He stares at me. “No.”
“Any idea where she got the idea?”
“Nope.”
He goes back to his beer. I have no fucking idea whether to believe him or not. He looks like he’s telling the truth, in fact, he looks like he doesn’t give a crap, but that doesn’t mean this doesn’t involve him somehow.
“Well, either way, Sherry is causing problems, and it would be good if they stopped.”
“Doin’ my best.” He nods. “She isn’t easy to deal with. You should think yourself lucky. Isla might be a lot of things, but she’s sure as shit saner than her sister.”
He makes a valid point.
“Another beer?” I ask.
He nods.
I order another round and we drink until it’s time for me to go home.
When I arrive, Isla is asleep on the sofa, hand on her belly. She is beautiful, and I feel fucking horrible that I’m not giving her the love she needs. She deserves a husband who comes home, sees her like this, and thanks the lord he has her.
I don’t feel that way.
It’s a fucking hard truth.
I go check on Sunny, who is sleeping soundly, tucked on his side, and I’m reminded why I stay.
That boy needs me.
He needs me to be a better father than the one I was raised with.
I think about Sherry’s accusations, and the fact that she claims Sunny isn’t mine and our new son, isn’t either. Thinking of that fact makes my stomach twist in a way I never thought I’d experience.
If I were to find out those boys weren’t mine, and Isla had cheated ... I don’t think I could ever look at her again.
It would crush me in a way I probably couldn’t come back from.
Lucky for me, it isn’t true.
Right?
“PUSH!”
The doctor stands at the end of the bed as Isla pushes, her face red, her screams filling the room.
She has been having contractions for hours, and she’s finally ready to deliver our baby into the world. I stand beside her, hand being crushed but not complaining and keep my eyes on the end of the bed where the doctor is crouched, preparing for the arrival of our son.
One more decent push later, and they smile and tell us it’s a boy.
Then, his little scream fills the room.
His tiny voice ripping out into the world, letting us all know he’s here and he’s not going anywhere.
They wrap him and put him on Isla’s chest, and I can see the tuft of white blond hair on his head. His skin, even as a newborn, is soft and olive. He stops crying the moment he hits Isla’s chest, and I reach down, fighting some incredible emotion, and touch his tiny hand. “Welcome to the world, little man.”
“He’s so beautiful,” Isla says, her voice tired as she looks at our newborn son.
“He’s perfect.”
“What should we name him? I promised to let you have this one,” she croaks.
“Taj,” I murmur, stroking his chubby little cheek.
“Taj,” she whispers. “I love it.”
I stay with her and relish in the moments of having our son, and things feeling semi-okay.
They stay that way until we take him home and reality sets in.
We have a demanding two-year-old, a newborn, and Isla is tired and angry. I find myself