I should be relieved. But I’m not.
Jackson nods, giving me a polite smile as he takes our empty glasses into the kitchen. If he’s disappointed it doesn’t show, and that somehow makes me feel worse. Did he not want to kiss me the way I wanted to kiss him?
“Mama? Are you there?”
“Hi, baby,” I force myself to enunciate every syllable so my words don’t slur. “Tell me about your day.”
“I’m not a baby.” Edward huffs, making me smile despite the confusing feelings swirling in my mind. I slump back into the sofa toconcentrate on my call with Edward, but from the corner of my vision I’m still able to observe Jackson.
“You’re right, you’re practically a grown-up. How was your day today?”
“Good.”
“Good. What did you do?”
“I played with my toys. And we worked on a puzzle. It has one thousand pieces. A thousand! Can you believe that?”
“Wow. That’s amazing.”
“It’ll probably take us the whole week to finish it.”
“That’s good you have the whole week, then.” It’s a relief to hear the joy in my son’s voice. All the anxiety and worry I held inside leading up to this week wasn’t for me—it was for him.
“Mama, what did you do today?” my thoughtful boy asks.
“Would you believe I caught my first crawdad?”
“You did?” The shock of his reaction firmly plants a smile on my face.
“I sure did. Maybe when I get back, we can do that together.”
“Really? Ari always brags about catching the biggest crawdads. He even brought one to show and tell last year.”
“Well, maybe we’ll have to catch one bigger.”
“Yay!” He cheers through the line. There’s a pause, and I hear a voice in the background, though I can’t make out his words. “Uncle Beckett says I have to say good night now.”
“Yes.” I glance at the clock, appreciative he’s sticking to Edward’s usual schedule. “Good night, Edward. Sweet dreams.”
“’Night, Mama.”
Jackson’s still in the kitchen when I end the call. I consider slipping upstairs unnoticed while I can. Hell, I should keep my distance from Jackson. The more time we spend together, the more I feel my control slip. It’s bad enough there’s an underlying crackle of tension whenever we’re in the same room. It wouldn’t take much for that energy to burst into flame.
It’s the same desire that made me abandon my rulesfor a few hours of fun one year ago. And okay, we made it through without collateral damage. But if we cross that line again, would we be tempting fate? I’m not sure I can risk the possibility.
Jackson walks out of the kitchen with a glass of water in his hand. “Take these.” He holds out two pills and hands over the glass. “And drink this.”
“Bossy,” I grumble, but do as he says, drinking the entire glass. It’s been years since I’ve done shots. Tomorrow would have brought a painful hangover without his foresight. I try not to read into the thoughtfulness of his actions.
He stares in a way that makes me question whether he can read my thoughts. I pray he can’t.
“What?” I ask self-consciously as I hand back the now-empty water glass.
“You know, you’re not how I thought you’d be.”
My body warms at his observation. I don’t exactly understand what he means by that, but he’s not how I thought he’d be, either.
“You’re a good mom.” His gaze is sincere. Unwavering. I can’t will myself to look away.
