“Sweet boy,” I whisper, kissing his forehead. “Mama’s here. Mama’s got you. I’ll always take care of you.”
His father’s angry face fills my mind and my throat constricts. All the pure happiness and joy we were feeling was shattered and spoiled. And the guilt I feel about the mistake that led to my beautiful baby's conception is magnified. How could I have ever beenso stupid as to think that man was worth anything?
When my Little C is finally settled, breathing regular and deep, I back out of the room and ease the door shut. The second it clicks, my chest tightens. I swallow hard and wipe my eyes with the heel of my hand.
The house is quiet and warm, but I don’t feel safe after everything that happened today and the feelings it has unearthed in me.
I head to the bathroom to shower away the day’s sweat and dust, giving myself a moment to cry while no one is watching, needing to release some emotion before the men return. I pull on one of Caleb’s shirts. As I descend the stairs, boots thud on the steps outside, and Wade and Caleb’s voices carry into the house
I follow their familiar sounds to the kitchen. They’ve come in from evening chores, dust streaking their forearms, shirts clinging to the sweat of real work. They look up the moment they see me, and that familiar warmth in their eyes almost undoes me.
“Did Little C settle?” Caleb asks.
I nod.
“Are you okay?” Wade rubs his stubbly chin, gaze trailing over my face.
“Sit down,” I say softly. “Both of you.”
Caleb lifts his brows at Wade, but they do as I ask, settling at the table like they’re bracing for news neither of them wants.
I stand at the head of the table, twisting my fingers together.
“I’ve been thinking,” I begin, my voice thin and shaky. “About what Wade said. About money. About… the cost of raising Little C.”
Caleb frowns, leaning forward. “Jo—”
“No, let me say this,” I whisper. “I’m not prepared to put that all on your shoulders. It’s not fair. He’s my responsibility. I brought him into this world. I chose to raise him. I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness or—”
“Stop.” Wade’s voice cuts through gently but firmly.
My eyes sting. “I can’t just sit here and let you take on everything when his father gets to walk away so easily. I can’t.”
“You’re not,” Caleb says. “You came here as our housekeeper, and even though you’ve become more, you’re still doing that work. You’re still earning your keep and taking responsibility for your child. We don’t want to take that away from you.”
Wade stands slowly, approaching me, fingers brushing my arm before he tilts my chin up.
“I wasn’t throwin’ numbers at that loser to scare you or make you think that this is somethin’ we resent,” he says quietly. “I wanted to prove a point.”
Caleb rises too, coming to my other side. His presence is as grounding.
Wade continues, “I needed him to accept he was never gonna be a father in the ways that matter. He wasn’t gonna show up. He wasn’t gonnahelp. He wasn’t gonna work or fight for that boy.”
My throat tightens as tears spill hot and fast down my cheeks.
“But we are,” Caleb murmurs, brushing a thumb under my eye. “We already are.”
I shake my head, overwhelmed. “I don’t ever want to be a burden.”
“You’re not,” Wade says. “You’re the woman we want.And Little C’s the boy we want to raise.”
I look at him, startled. “Wade…”
He exhales, thick and heavy, and cups the back of my neck.
“And it’s more than that,” he says, voice dropping low, rougher. “When you’re ready… when you’re feeling strong and settled… we want to put more babies inside you. Ones we’ll raise with Little C. Brothers. Sisters. A whole damn crew of kids runnin’ these floors and the dirt outside these doors.”
A sob breaks out of me, sudden and pure. “You’re— you’re sure?”
