Hey, just checking in to make sure you're taking it easy today.
I took a deep breath, then typed out a reply.
Doing my best to have a peaceful morning.
I hit send, and almost immediately, Billy responded.
Good. Remember, if you need help, just holler.
As relief mixed with anxiety trickled through me, I stared at Billy's text for a moment longer. The past couple of nights might have honestly just been him looking after a friend. Unless they weren’t. The unsettling thought set my heart pounding, the echoes of my recent musings too fresh, too raw to ignore. But now wasn’t the time to dissect those thoughts, especially with Henry about to wake up any minute.
Right on cue, I heard the pitter-patter of small feet coming down the hallway. Henry appeared in the kitchen doorway, his hair sticking up in all directions, rubbing his sleepy eyes. His blue pajamas were rumpled, and he yawned as he looked up at me.
“Morning, Daddy,” he mumbled.
“Good morning, buddy,” I replied warmly, opening my arms as he toddled over for a hug. As I held him, breathing in the smell of baby shampoo and sleepy warmth, my heart swelled with love for my son. He was the most important person in my life, and I’d do anything for him.
We went through our morning routine on autopilot. The scent of butter and vanilla wafted through the air as Henry’s excited chatter served as the morning’s soundtrack.
“What are you looking forward to at daycare today?” I asked, flipping a pancake and watching as it browned perfectly.
“Ms. Lara said we’re gonna paint again today!” Henry’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. He loved anything that allowed him to use his imagination and creativity. I was even considering putting together an art area in the new playroom once it was done. Something with a hard floor underneath that would be easy to clean up when he inevitably made a mess.
“That sounds like fun,” I said with a smile, feeling the softness in my own voice.
I handed him a plate with two fluffy pancakes, and he eagerly began to drown them in syrup. The light streaming in through the kitchen window caught his hair, turning it into a halo of golden strands.
After breakfast, we grabbed our lunches and made our way to the car. There was a tranquility in the morning that settled my conflicted mind. The car hummed to life, and as we pulled out of the driveway, Henry babbled on about his friends at daycare.
As I parked outside the daycare, I looked at Henry, his face glowing with excitement. I quickly unbuckled him, and he held my fingers tightly until we were safely inside. It was amusing to see how his entire demeanor changed as soon as he joined his friends. I thought I had at least another decade before he acted like a tough guy around his buddies. Apparently, I was wrong.
“Have a great day, bud,” I told him, hugging him tight enough to feel the rhythm of his heartbeat against mine.
“You too, Daddy!” he chirped, his little hand waving as he trotted into his classroom.
The drive to work was far too short. The hum of the engine couldn’t drown out my thoughts, which were tangled, knotted threads of emotions and memories. The scent of Billy’s cologne still lingered in the car from earlier in the week, tormenting my senses. The soft touch of his hands on my skin was burned into my memory, an invisible brand that felt both tender and electric.
The workday was like watching a movie through a fogged-up glass. The spreadsheets and emails were nothing more than blurs and white noise. The fluorescent lights above me flickered, and I’d have given anything to call out for the afternoon. I wasn’t sure if it was the faulty ballast or my overthinking, but my head was throbbing.
I found myself touching my forehead, the place where Billy’s lips had brushed against my skin. The soft pressure was still there, an invisible mark that made my heart feel too big for my chest.
I tapped a fast beat against my desk with my pen, echoing the restless pounding of my heart. The clock slowed to a snail’s pace, each ticking second pulling me closer to a precipice that was as frightening as it was thrilling. As the end of the day approached, my phone buzzed again. Billy.
I can pick up Henry if you’d like. Anson told me to get out of there while I could.
My heart sped up. Seeing Billy with Henry would be both a balm and a complication for my confused heart.
That would be amazing. Thanks.
It was settled. I finished up at work and made my way to the grocery store, hoping that the task of buying groceries would help clear my head.
As I wandered the aisles, lost in thought, my phone rang. “Hey, I’ve got Henry. We’re heading to your place,” Billy said, his voice smooth as velvet over the phone.
“Great. I’ll be there soon,” I replied. “I just need to finish up at the store first.”
I was in the cereal aisle, lost in the endless sea of colorful boxes, when a voice, familiar like an old tune, called my name. “Michael!”
I turned, my heartbeat doing a strange little wobble as I saw Danny making his way toward me. He wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, and he looked… happy. So damned happy it made me ache.
