I’d done more of that, maybe my son wouldn’t be suffering now.”
“Done more of what?”
Smiling sadly, I gaze into her beautiful, loving eyes.
“Defended my son like that. You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met. I’m so thankful you’re in our lives. You stood up to my wife—something I was never able to do—and you did it because you love my son.”
“But she’s not wrong,” she says. “Natasha is his mother.”
“Maybe now she’ll start acting like it.”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” Olivia chuckles. “I should’ve known you’d find a way to eavesdrop.”
I grin. “That baby monitor app really comes in handy.”
With a tired sigh, Olivia snuggles deeper into my arms. We hold each other, enjoying the peace and quiet. After a few minutes, her soft snores fill the air.
Smiling, I lift Olivia into my arms and carry her to her bedroom, laying her down against the soft blanket. She turns onto her side, and I watch as she nestles her palm under her cheek.
My heart clenches at the sight of her.
I can’t believe she’s here.
I can’t believe she’s mine.
Not yet, Healey. But someday. If you’re lucky.
Someday.
“What time is it?” Hazel asks.
“Almost five.”
Today is visitation day, and to say the entire house is filled with anxiety would be an understatement. Even Hazel, who’s usually cool and calm, can’t sit still. She keeps running back and forth to the kitchen, fluffing chair pillows, and generally getting on my very last nerve.
I glance over at the piano, where Ryder sits next to Olivia as he plays a song from some Disney movie. He’s been quiet today, but that’s to be expected. As I watch them, I can’t silence the questions that roar through my mind. What if Natasha doesn’t come? What if she does? Will Ryder be afraid? Happy? Confused? Will he even talk to her? Will he ask why she left? And will she tell him the truth? And what happens when she leaves? Will he have a tantrum? Will the nightmares return?
Despite her absence, Natasha still has control over my family. Her mere presence today—or lack thereof—could possibly destroy all the progress Ryder’s made.
I want her to show up.
I don’t want her to show up.
Both scenarios could break my son’s heart.
Then, the doorbell rings.
Olivia and I exchange nervous glances just as Hazel returns from the kitchen.
She did it. She kept her word.
“Ryder, are you ready?” Olivia asks softly.
He keeps playing.
“Ryder,” she tries again. “Your mom is here to see you. We can finish the song later, okay?”
With a sigh, Ryder climbs down from the bench and takes Olivia’s hand before leading her to the couch.
“Daddy, sit with us, please.”
His little voice shakes, and it absolutely breaks my heart.
The doorbell rings again. Having to wait was probably making her mad.
Good.
“Hazel, would you please get the door?”
She nods slowly as I sit down on the couch next to Olivia. Ryder quickly climbs into her lap.
That’s sure to make her mad, too.
But that’s too bad. If being close to Olivia is what he needs to get through this visit, I’m not about to spare Natasha’s feelings by refusing him.
Moments later, Hazel returns, with Natasha by her side. As usual, she’s impeccably overdressed. Instantly, she spots Ryder sitting in Olivia’s lap, and I watch as her eyes narrow. She recovers quickly and clears her throat.
“Hi, baby.”
Ryder says nothing. He just wraps his arms around Olivia’s neck in a death grip while she soothingly rubs his back.
Natasha kneels onto the floor—which is no easy feat in that tight dress.
“I brought you a present,” she says, offering him the gift bag.
Ryder’s eyes flicker from the present, and then to me.
“It’s okay.”
Very slowly, Ryder climbs out of Olivia’s lap and sits down on the floor. He timidly reaches for the present.
“What is it?” he asks softly.
“Open it and see,” Natasha says.
Ryder carefully opens the bag.
“It’s a remote-control truck,” Natasha said. “I hope it’s okay. I wasn’t sure.”
“It’s great,” I said, happy to see that she bought him something age-appropriate and fun. At least she’s trying. “What do you think, Ryder?”
“I like it. Thank you.”
Natasha beams. “You’re very welcome.”
Ryder smiles as his mom helps him open the truck. As they play, his eyes occasionally flicker to Olivia and me on the couch. I’m not sure if he simply needs the reassurance that we’re here, or if he’s silently seeking permission to play with his mom. Either way, he seems to be doing okay.
So far, so good.
The first hour drifts into the second, and Olivia and I remain on the couch,