It was impossible for me to say these hurtful things while looking him in the eye, so I turned my back to him and left the room and went Malcolm's room. He was standing expectantly at the end of his crib and I scooped him up, hugging him close to my body.
Jameson appeared in the doorway and for one terrible moment, I thought he was going to start yelling. The vein stood out on his forehead and his nostrils flared. But when he saw Malcolm in my arms, his face softened and he swallowed down whatever it was he was going to fling at me. "Bye, buddy," he said softly, lifting Malcolm's chubby fingers to his lips and giving him a quick kiss.
"Bye bye!" Malcolm yelled, waving frantically. "Bye bye! Bye bye!"
Jameson made a noise that could have been a laugh but could have also been a sob. I couldn't tell. I was too busy hiding my face so he couldn't see the tears that were gathering in my eyes. "Goodbye," he said again in a choked whisper and I buried my face in my son's neck until the noise of footsteps on the staircase ended and I knew he was far enough away that I wouldn't mistakenly reach out and grab him.
When I finally got downstairs, I saw the front door standing wide open and heard the sound of a car engine retreating in the distance. And over my head, I heard the squeak of the floorboards and knew that my mother had heard it all.
I shifted my weight to one side and reached out to touch the open door as if it still contained traces of him. I blinked and sudden anger flashed in my veins again. But who was I angry with? Him or myself?
Closing the door was like pushing against a boulder, it felt immovable under my fingertips like it was actively pushing back.
But I managed to shut it.
Because what the hell else was I going to do?
"Mr. Jameson went bye bye," I told Malcolm softly. "He was a nice man, wasn't he?"
"School bus," he answered.
I laughed and hugged him close, then brushed my fingers against the door.
What the hell was going on with me? I had no illusions walking into this that Jameson would stay. Hell, he told me from the very beginning that we were just going to have a little bit of fun. It was just a one-night stand.
But how fucking dare he show up again yesterday? Turning that one-night into two...fuck, we'd already said our goodbyes. Yesterday I was already starting to train myself to forget his smile, to forget the way his eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. I was already actively pushing away the sound of his laugh, and the way his arm felt around my shoulders as my son slept in my lap. Yesterday I was ready to go about my life the way it had been right up until he burst back into it and busted a hole wide open inside of my chest. I was stronger than this, but at the moment I felt so weak that the strongest thing I could do was just close that door.
"That your man?" my mother asked at the bottom of the stairs. "The one you were out with late last night?"
I looked up sharply. "Don't worry mom," I told her sharply. "He's gone."
Her mouth twisted, and I braced myself for her snide comment. But instead, she said gently. "So sorry, hon. We all make mistakes."
I stood up straighter. Malcolm had a fistful of my hair in his hand and was yanking it was all his might, making my eyes water. That was why water was coming into my eyes. I wasn't crying, not at all. "I didn't feel like he was a mistake," I confessed. "But it's not like I wanted to marry him or anything."
"He would've been a good one to marry," my mom said. I blinked in surprise. "He was good with little Mac."
I swallowed and looked at my son. "Is that true?" I asked him. "Did you like Mr. Jameson?"
"Da," he said shoving handful of my hair in his mouth.
"No, he is not your Da," I said tightly. "I'm your mama, and that's your MomMom."
He pointed, "MomMom," and reached out his arms towards my mom.
"Here you go. I got you little guy." My mother took him into her arms and bounced up and down to make him laugh.
I felt myself smiling in spite of everything. "You're looking good, Mom," I told her truthfully, a pang of guilt sounding in my brain when I realized just how little attention I'd been paying to her moods. "How are you feeling?"
She took a deep breath. "Strange," she confessed. "But Dr. Kaza said I'd be a little loopy for a few weeks as I adjusted to the new dose."
"You're feeling dizzy?" I asked, immediately concerned.
She shook her head. "Not all the time. It comes and goes." She smiled brightly. "I'm doing better, Charlie-girl. I swear."
I took a deep breath and nodded, tears welling in my eyes. "Mom," I sobbed, and she opened her arm out to fold me back into her embrace. I took a deep, shuddering breath against her shoulder, determined not to fall apart. I wasn't going to be broken by this. It wasn't worth it, right?
My mother looked at me. "Go take a long shower, girlie," she said. "Wash it off."
I blinked. Sometimes my mother surprised the hell out of me. "Okay," I said dumbly.
But the longest, hottest shower in the world did nothing to stop the ache in my heart.