might pull back again, and that’s the last thing I want.
I invited Jonah over for dinner. It was nice. We sat at the breakfast nook and took turns feeding Elijah, laughing at his excitement over trying new foods.
Elijah is now on a pallet on the living room floor, playing with a couple of baby toys Jonah set out for him.
Jonah and I are on the couch. He’s lying against the arm of it, his legs spread out to fit me between them. My back is against his chest, and we’re both watching Elijah play on the floor.
Jonah’s left arm is draped over my stomach, and every now and then he’ll press a kiss against the side of my head as we chat. The more he does it, the more used to it I get and the less guilt I feel. I want him to keep doing it until I finally feel no guilt at all. I think that’ll take a few more months, though.
I sigh at that thought, so naturally, Jonah says, “What’s wrong?”
“I just worry too much, I think. I worry that their betrayal will cause us to never fully trust each other.”
“I’m not worried.” He says it with such confidence.
“Why?”
“Because. We’ve never been with the person we belonged with until now.”
I tilt my head back so I can see him. Then I kiss him for that.
He brushes his thumb over my lip and regards me with a serene look. I’m not sure it’s a look I’ve ever seen emanate from Jonah Sullivan. He’s spent a long time fighting something he no longer has to fight, and the peace within him shows. “We’ll be fine, Morgan. More than fine. I promise.”
The front door opens, and Jonah and I both react. Clara wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour. I sit up on the couch, and Jonah pulls his legs out from under me.
Clara pauses in the doorway, staring at us. Then she closes the door. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.” She drops her purse and walks over to the floor. She sits down next to Elijah.
Jonah looks at me, silently asking if they should leave. Clara sees the look he gives me. She reaches for Elijah and picks him up, leaning with her back against the couch opposite from us. “Stay,” she says to Jonah while looking at Elijah. “I want to play with him for a little while.”
Jonah and I are silent as we watch her. We don’t know what mood to expect. Last night was good between us, and so was this morning. But we haven’t confronted this thing between me and Jonah with her yet. I’m not sure we’re ready to, because Jonah and I haven’t even really confronted it.
Clara is holding Elijah, trying to get him to repeat sounds she’s making.
“Has he said any words yet?” she asks, looking up at Jonah.
“Not yet. It’ll be a few more months before he can do that.”
Clara looks down at Elijah and starts making more sounds. “Can you say Dada?”
He kicks his legs against her stomach, bouncing and making random noises. Then, to our astonishment, he repeats her. He says it so perfectly that no one moves a muscle because I think we’re all doubting what we heard.
Then Jonah says, “Did he just . . .”
Clara nods. “I think he did.”
Jonah leaves the couch and sits down next to Clara on the floor. He’s too young to be repeating words willingly, but I move closer to them anyway in case he does it again. I sit on the floor on the other side of Clara.
She repeats herself. “Dada?” She tries to get Elijah to mimic the sound again, but he just makes lots of other sounds instead. I know it was a fluke, but the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
Clara tilts Elijah so that he’s facing Jonah. “There’s your dada, right there,” she says.
I don’t know if it’s hearing Clara refer to Jonah as Elijah’s dad that does it, or hearing the word come out of Elijah’s mouth, but Jonah’s eyes begin to spill over with tears.
As soon as I see the first tear roll down his cheek, I start to cry.
Clara looks at Jonah, then looks at me, then back at Jonah. “Great. I thought I was done with the tears.”
Now she’s crying.
I watch Clara, and even though she’s crying, she’s playing with Elijah with a smile on her face. Then she does something unexpected. She sighs and leans her head on Jonah’s shoulder.
It