Goddammit, he looked incredible.
Was this ever gonna get easier?
A few minutes later
Arlington
Nathan Riley
Micah running down the stairs was a blessing and a curse. I needed distance from Ash in a moment I was so close to blurting out how much I missed him.
“Good morning, Daddies! I’m up now!”
We looked over at the stairs, and it was impossible not to smile at his adorable bed head and goofy grin.
“Oh, I don’t know, sweetheart,” Ash said. “I haven’t gotten my hug yet, so how can I be sure you’re not sleepwalkin’?”
Micah laughed and ran over to him—and straight into his arms.
“Oof, there we go.” Ash picked him up as if he were five instead of eight. Then again, Micah was still the cuddler he’d been when we’d adopted him, a stage we hoped he didn’t leave for a while longer. “Yup, I think you’re awake.” Ash inched back so he could drop smooches all over Micah’s face. “How’s my teddy bear this mornin’? You sleep good?”
“Yeah—that tickles.” Our boy giggled and wanted down again. “What’s for breakfast? I’m hungry.”
“Daddy ran out and bought bagels for us.” I combed my fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to tame it.
“Yummy. I want four.”
Ash and I laughed. The boy didn’t even finishone.
“How about you go wake up your brother and sisters,” Ash suggested. “Daddy and I can set the table and prepare your four bagels.”
Micah didn’t waste a second. He sprinted up the stairs again.
I let out a breath and brought my coffee back to the kitchen, and Ash followed me. We had a packed schedule today, which I wasn’t sure was for the children’s sake or ours. We didn’t do well with stretches of silence anymore. They used to be comfortable; now they made me tense up.
While he brought the toaster to the table, I headed to the fridge for fixings. Butter, cream cheese, turkey…what else.
I stood there and stared.
Ash cleared his throat somewhere behind me. “Does it get easier?”
Fuck.
I couldn’t turn around and face him. “I don’t know yet.”
Every now and then, I wondered if we were postponing telling Micah and Lily because of their ages and anxiety, or because Ash and I were too chickenshit to put that last nail in the coffin. But then Micah’s anxiety was triggered somehow, and I felt comfortable in our decision again.
The only problem was that we had no idea when the right moment would turn up. Divorce was a difficult topic, regardless, and it wasn’t as if they’d be happier in a year.
These days, I hate that you hold such power over me. You can still make my heart beat faster. You can send my pulse through the roof and give me shivers. You make me react so strongly.
You used to call it your superpower—and proof of how fucking perfect we were together, because of how we made each other feel.
“We’re magnets, baby,” you joked once.
Maybe you were right, considering I can’t fucking free myself from your pull.
The irony of those words isn’t lost on me. Free myself… I’m not free. I haven’t felt free since you and I were solid.
