had been ages since she’d been able to just chill like this. The boys were pretty much on the same schedule which meant she was finally on one. Well, somewhat. She was still figuring it out.
Mia quickly washed her hair, just in case, and it was a good thing too because when she brought her head from underwater, one of her boys was crying.
“Shit!” she swore. Quickly getting out of the tub and drying off, she put on her robe and hurried to the boys’ room and found Rory crying.
“You can’t be hungry again, can you?” she said quietly. It was with those words she realized that Rory had fallen asleep before she’d been able to feed him. She lifted him out of the crib. “Hi, sweetie. Mommy’s sorry. Are you hungry?” she asked as he searched for her breast. “Hold on, mister! Let me at least sit down.”
About five minutes later, she switched sides and let herself continue to relax with her son. The next time she opened her eyes, though, the wall clock across from her told her it was past noon. Ethan should be home soon. Regarding the peaceful, sleeping face of Rory, her heart filled with the love she had for her two boys. She wondered if her mother ever felt that way. She knew she’d never leave these boys. In that way, she knew she was not like her mother, but it was the other questions Mia had … were there other similarities between her and her mother? The pull she had to her career was so strong, but at the same time she felt so much guilt, like she’d be abandoning her family, and that was where she had a problem. She really hated all this guilt.
Ethan
Walking into the kitchen, Ethan found his wife eating at the counter, her head resting in one of her hands. He couldn’t really see her face, but the pose concerned him. He really hoped the plan he, Luke, and Allie had come up with would help his wife because he really hated seeing her so sad and not herself.
“You are not your mother, Mia,” he said in lieu of a greeting, needing her to know that straight off. Her head whipped up, shocked at him being there or by what he said … or maybe both. She rose from her stool and walked to the sink where she placed her dishes. She remained there, gripping the edge of the sink.
As he walked over to her, he continued talking. “You don’t leave. You are loyal. Loving. I know you love our boys. But you need more and feel guilty about it because you fear you’d be like your mom.”
“Yeah,” she said heavily, the weight of that one word pushing down her shoulders.
“Oh, Mia,” he said as he walked to her. Spinning her to face him, he enveloped her in his strong arms. “I never expected you not to go back. I knew you would eventually.”
“Well, thanks for telling me that now,” she said jokingly. He tilted his head, his eyebrows raised, as he looked at her. With a contrite exhale of breath, Mia continued. “I know. I’m sorry. I should have—I will talk to you when things are bothering me from now on.”
“Thank you. This doesn’t have to be hard,” he said, pausing for a moment, collecting his thoughts because there were many. He lifted her onto the counter, her face now even with his. He wanted her to hear this. “You don’t need to give up your life to prove you are not your mom. Do what you need to do, Mia. Seriously. We will figure the rest out. I don’t like you not happy. We’ll hire a nanny. Get you an assistant. We can set up some room downstairs for a studio space. We will make this work.”
She smiled broadly, like the world had been given back to her, and really, it had been. “I love you, Ethan Christopher.”
“Well, it happens that I love you, too, Mrs. Christopher.”
“You do?” she said, her sparkling, dark brown eyes on his.
“Yeah,” he said, touching her lips with his. Her arms loosely wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him closer to her.
“Ethan?” she asked expectantly.
“Yes?” he answered, his forehead against hers, content with the fact that everything would be all right.
“I’ve got an idea,” she said, sliding her hands from around his neck, down his chest, following the delineated path of his abs, before finally stopping at his waist.