I stepped toward Jasper and enveloped him in my arms. Without any hesitation, he wrapped his arms around my torso and hugged me tight. He burrowed his face into my chest and made the smallest of cheek rubs against my T-shirt.
I angled my head down so I could whisper into his ear, “Something made you sad, sugar?” I felt him nod more emphatically against my chest. “I wish I knew how to make you feel better.”
“Daddy stay?”
“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, sugar.”
Jasper’s soft sigh hit me right in the gut.
The only thought running through my mind was that I needed to take care of my boy. I didn’t know how he was going to be my boy or what any of this would mean tomorrow, but tonight, he was mine to protect.
I steered him gently to the couch and then pulled him down into my lap. He settled in quietly, leaning against my chest. It took me a beat to realize he’d started crying again, silent and raw. My heart broke for him.
Whatever had made him this sad had cracked straight through the bright, flirty, fast-smiling façade he wore for the world. Someone had taken that away from him. I didn’t know who, but I was fucking furious about it.
From the moment I met Jasper, I’d known he was sunshine and light. That was what I wanted back for him. I didn’t want anyone to have the power to dim his light. Now here we were, cocooned in his living room while he cried in my arms.
Rather than stop him, I let the tears come. I whispered softly in his ear that he was safe, that I’d protect him. From what, I didn’t know—but I kept repeating it until the sobs tapered off and his breathing evened out. He’d fallen asleep in my arms and on my lap. The realization that he trusted me enough, that he felt safe enough to do that, took hold in my chest. Had anyone ever handed themselves to me and known I would take care of them? I didn’t think so. A relationship wasn’t something I’d ever felt the need to pursue, but with the weight of Jasper in my lap, I realized it was a responsibility I wanted to shoulder.
I grabbed the blanket from beside us and tucked it around his shoulders, letting him stay curled against me while the TV played on low. I tried to figure out what it was he loved about the cartoon. Maybe it wasn’t anything deep—or maybe it was the world it showed, where people were kind and helpful and took care of each other. Maybe that’s what had broken his heart this afternoon: a reminder that not everyone is kind. Whatever it was, I knew one thing for certain: if his heart was broken, I wanted to fix it.
“Hey, sleepyhead. You have a good nap?”
Jasper sat up a little and rubbed his eyes with his fists. I gently pulled his hands away and used my thumb to wipe the leftover sleep from the corners of his eyes. I knew his brain was likely still fuzzy around the edges, but the trust he’d given me was clear enough.
“Hey, buddy, you gotta be careful, okay? I don’t think you’re all the way awake yet.”
“Not ’wake, Daddy.”
“That’s what I thought, sugar. Put your head back down. You’ve gotta ease yourself into waking up from a nap, and I think you need to soak a little before you get up.”
Jasper settled back against my chest, and I grabbed the puppy he’d been holding earlier, tucking it back into his arms. He snuggled it close, and I noticed his thumb rubbing over the top of the puppy’s head. Every once in a while, he’d bring his fist to his mouth, then drop it back down and rub the puppy again. He did it three or four times.
“Sugar, go on and suck your thumb if that’s what you want. It’s okay.”
Jasper looked up at me with big eyes. I could see the questions swimming there, but I also knew he wasn’t in a place to talk yet.
“Go ahead,” I said softly. “Put it in your mouth. It’s fine.”
Slowly, Jasper brought his thumb to his lips and slid it into his mouth. I kissed the top of his head and ran my fingers through his hair. The longer strands curled around them, and it felt… I don’t know exactly. But it was nice.
I listened to the quiet rhythm of his sucking as he slowly brought himself back into the world, his puppy tucked close to his chest. The cocoon I’d stepped into had felt dark and unwelcoming. Now, with a calmer Jasper, it felt cozy.
When I was a kid, my mom had a picture of some kind of animal—maybe a mole—that had an underground home. It had a fireplace, and the animal sat in his wingback chair with his feet up, warming himself by the fire with a cup of tea. That’s what this moment felt like to me.
And it was interrupted by the distinct and loud sound of a tummy rumbling. And it wasn’t mine.
“Have you eaten today, sugar?”
“Not ’ungry.”
“You may not be hungry, but your tummy definitely wants food.” I tapped the screen on my phone, which was laying on the end table. Seven p.m. No wonder his stomach was making noises. I’d seen him in town hours ago.
“Daddy can’t cook.”
“Why can’t I cook?”
“Said so.”
