“Okay,” she relents, and before I can stop myself, I reach out and pull her into my arms, holding her there for a moment.
If she asks, I’ll say it’s for appearances. She’d told me about running into Orie at the market—anyone could be around. It’s just good strategy to be intimate like this.
But the truth is that more and more lately, I’ve started to get a sort of withdrawal from her touch. From feeling her body against mine. It already feels like years since we had each other at the hotel, too busy this week with life to find a moment alone.
I thought—many times—of inviting her to my office. But I don’t want quick and dirty with her, and I get the sense that fucking her against my desk might just make the wanting worse.
“Have fun,” I say, and Jules nods, tugging Gus’s hat down over his ears one last time before she turns and heads for the market stall. Sienna waves to us both when Jules arrives, and Gus waves back before turning to me.
He and I have only had spare moments together without Jules present, and with the evening looming ahead of us, I think it might be awkward. That he might go back to being shy, like he is sometimes around others.
The look on Gus’s face is calculating, determined, and it makes my heart skip. He could ask me anything, and I feel a sense of floundering, like I might say the wrong thing. Could answer poorly and somehow set him on the wrong path for the rest of his life.
“Can we get hot chocolate?” he asks, widening his eyes, and I laugh out loud at the relief. Hot chocolate, I can do.
“Yeah, of course,” I say, and when I turn to walk into the market, I’m surprised by the sensation of his little gloved hand sliding into mine. It instantly forms a lump in my throat, and I’m aware of everything—our coats brushing against one another, his little hops over cracks, the people near us—as we walk.
While I’m paying for the hot chocolate, the little old lady behind the counter coos, “Oh, your son is just adorable!”
I glance at Gus quickly, but he’s busy blowing on his cocoa, which is topped with a snowflake marshmallow.
When I say, simply, “Thank you,” I feel something like shame and excitement filling me.
I’ve always told myself I’d be fine without kids. That I could live a whole and fulfilling life without them. So, what’s this feeling now? Like I’ve stolen something precious by letting this woman think Gus is my son?
We take another lap around the market and Gus finishes his hot chocolate, talking to me the entire time. He tells me about school, about his friend Dawson, and about his new favorite movie. We talk about what it’s like to be a doctor, and he tells me he doesn’t want to be a doctor when he grows up.
“Whatdoyou want to be?” I ask, and when he says he doesn’t know, there’s a sense of satisfaction.
“You don’t have to know,” I tell him, when we stop to look at some glass ornaments. “There’s a lot of time to grow up yet.”
“I know,” Gus says, his nose close to one of the little ornaments. Turning to me, something shining in his eye, he says, “I think my mom would like this one.”
I look at it, realize it’s a dinosaur, and laugh out loud, already pulling out my wallet. “I’m sure she would.”
Maybe Gus has seen how much I like his mom, but what he doesn’t realize is just how much I like him, too. For a little while, I can play the doting dad.
Dad.
The word reverberates through my head, and I try to survive the feeling.
By the time we’re done at the market, we’ve got plenty more bags to put in the back of the car. The driver pulls around, and Gus and I get in. It’s easier this time to strap him into the booster seat, and when we sit back, he lets his head fall against my shoulder.
“I’m going to be on TV,” he says, matter-of-factly.
“I heard about that,” I say. “TheToday, Tomorrowshow, right?”
But he’s already asleep.
When we pull up outside Juliette’s apartment, I get Gus upstairs and feed him some deli soup while he sleepily talks around his bites. I help him get the toothpaste on his toothbrush and secretly shudder at the thought of bubblegum flavor.
Finally, we step into his room together. In the time I’ve spent in Juliette’s apartment, I haven’t actually been in either bedroom yet.
The room smells like lavender, and I spot an oil diffuser on the dresser that must be the culprit. Despite being a small space, it’s clear Juliette has put some thought into decorating. There are dinosaur and superhero decals on the walls, matching furniture that must be from IKEA. A blue and green duvet tucked neatly onto the mattress.
Crayons are scattered over a little table. Toys and stuffed animals litter the floor, and I have to resist the urge to pick them up.
Gus walks right over to his bed and climbs up onto the mattress, then reaches to his nightstand to hand me one of the hard-backed books from the pile on his nightstand.
