But right now, he just wanted to call his boyfriend. He wanted to tell Jamie how tired he was, how much it hurt to see Rowan like this. He wanted to hear Jamie’s low voice in his ear, reassuring him that he was a good, competent father. That Rowan was going to be okay.
His phone vibrated on the floor beside him and he sighed as he picked it up. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. Are you doing okay?”
“I’m okay.” He rolled his neck, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders.
Rowan shifted against him. “Papa, my tummy,” he whimpered. Tyler made a soft, soothing sound and pressed a kiss to his damp curls.
“Is Rowan alright?” His mom must have heard Rowan’s voice.
“It’s just a stomach bug.”
“Honey, please think about coming home. If you were here, I could–”
“We’re okay. I promise, we’re okay.”
It was quiet for a moment.
“Tyler, we…We’re worried about you.”
Closing his eyes, Tyler tipped his head back until itthunkedagainst the bathroom wall. He forced himself to take a deep breath, releasing it through his nose. “Did you see the pictures?”
“We did. It’s awful, the things they’re saying about you.”
Tyler couldn’t argue with her. He’d caved and read some of the comments online. Some nosy internet sleuth with nothing better to do had put two and two together, finding Tyler’s blurry face in the background of a picture from the team Christmas party at Jamie’s house. Even though Rowan’s face was hidden, it was clear Tyler was holding a child. From there, the comments went wild: Tyler was a gold-digger, or he was somehow blackmailing the Muskies captain into sleeping with him, or, the worst of them, where people claimed it should be illegal for strippers to have children. That he was somehow incapable as a father.
Tyler waited, knowing his mom wasn’t done.
“Are you sure being in Madison is worth it? I don’t know what you have going on with this Jamie fellow, but having your name in tabloids? Is this really what you want?” He heard her sigh. “I just wish you’d come home, Tyler. I wish you’d let us help.”
“I’m right where I want to be,” he said, but his voice sounded weak in his own ears.
“You wouldn’t have to dance if you were back here,” she pressed. “You know we don’t judge you for it, but those late nights away from Rowan? I just don't understand–”
“I need to go, Mom.”
“Tyler,” she began.
“Love you. Say hi to dad for me.”
He heard her sigh. “I love you too.”
He hung up, tossing the phone on the floor.
Tyler forced himself to take a slow breath–in, hold, and then out. The strain of holding himself together for Rowan while projecting confidence he didn’t feel to his mom was almost too much.
Of course, it was tempting to throw in the towel on their life in Madison. If he was back in Vermont, he had no doubt his mom would be right there on the bathroom floor beside him. His dadwould be warming up homemade chicken stock or running to the store for ginger ale.
So many things about their life would be easier.
And yet, Vermont wasn’t home anymore.
At some point, returning to Madison had become so much more than a stubborn display fueled by his own need to prove something. Tyler’s job at The Daily Grind had become routine. Rowan had come to love Dotty and Sandra like family. An accidental run-in with a professional hockey player had given them a community.
Madison had become their home.
Rowan’s cries had quieted, his breathing slowing. He’d fallen asleep curled up in Tyler’s lap. Tyler grabbed his phone.
