Instead of saying that, though, I bite my tongue. I have pride, after all.
“Of course,” I say, forcing a smile that feels like it might crack my face. “You’re absolutely right. It’s better to keep things professional.”
“I’m glad you understand.” The relief in his voice is unmistakable, and it makes me feel even more foolish. How could I really have thought something would happen between us? “I should head out soon. Will you be okay with Henry for a few hours?”
“Absolutely. Take all the time you need.”
He hands me Henry, who’s content and sleepy after his bottle. For just a moment, our hands brush as we transfer the baby, and I feel that same electric current from yesterday at the museum. But Jordan pulls away quickly, like he’s been burned.
Like he can’t stand to touch me.
“I’ll see you later,” he says, already reaching for his jacket.
“See you later.”
I watch through the window as he drives away, then stand in his kitchen holding Henry and feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. How could I have misread the situation so completely? How could I have thought that someone like Jordan would be interested in someone like me?
“Come on, sweetheart,” I whisper to Henry as I hold back tears. “Let’s go.”
Back at my house, Ash is exactly where I left him, controller in hand and completely absorbed in his game. Henry starts fussing the moment we walk through the door, probably picking up on my agitated mood.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I murmur, bouncing him gently as I pace around the living room. But nothing I do seems to help. His cries get louder, more insistent, and suddenly I feel completely overwhelmed.
This is too familiar. Standing alone in my living room with a crying baby, feeling like I’m failing at something that should come naturally. It reminds me of those first terrifying months after Ash’s father left, when I had no idea what I was doing and every night was sleepless and every day stressful.
It reminds me of the day my grandmother died six years ago, when I realized that the one person who always made everything better was gone forever.
It reminds me that, at the end of the day, it’s just me. It’s always just been me.
Henry’s cries intensify, and I sink into a kitchen chair, holding him close while my own eyes start to burn with unshed tears. I hate that I let myself hope for something more. I hate that I thought Jordan might see me as more than just the help.
Most of all, I hate how alone I feel right now.
“Mom?” Ash’s voice cuts through Henry’s cries. “Is everything okay?”
I look up to find him standing in the kitchen doorway, controller forgotten, concern written all over his young face. My nine-year-old son is worried about me, and that’s the last thing he should have to deal with.
“Everything’s fine, honey.” I force another smile, this one for Ash’s benefit. “Henry’s just having a fussy morning.”
“Want me to try? Sometimes babies like different people. Remember, you told me that?”
The offer is so sweet, so generous, that it makes my chest ache. “That’s okay. He’ll settle down in a minute.”
Ash goes back to his game, but I can tell he’s keeping one ear on us. I need to pull myself together. I need to remember what I’ve always known: I’m fine on my own. Ash and I have been doing just fine for nine years. We don’t need anyone else.
I have Ash, who’s growing into an amazing young man despite having an absent father. I have Esme, who’s been my rock since high school. I have a couple of other close friends who would drop everything if I needed them.
That’s enough. That has to be enough.
Henry finally starts to calm down, his cries fading to soft hiccups as he settles against my shoulder. The quiet feels fragile, like it might shatter if I move wrong.
“We’re okay,” I whisper to both Henry and myself. “We don’t need anyone else. We’re perfectly fine just the way we are.”
But even as I say the words, I can’t quite make myself believe them.
Even as I remind myself that Jordan was right to maintain professional boundaries, that getting involved would have been a mistake, I can’t stop thinking about the way he looked at me last night.
Even as I tell myself I’m better off without the complication of romantic feelings, I can’t forget how it felt to almost be kissed by someone who actually sees me.
