Joey devours two wraps and part of a third, announcing that Sidney is nowabove Momon the list of best cooks he knows, which I pretend doesn’t offend me on a deeply personal level.
After we’ve all eaten too much, Joey leans back with a theatrical groan.
I’m so full,he says.I might die.If I die, tell my friends I scored on Sidney inNHL.
You didn’t,Sidney objects.
They don’t know that,Joey replies.
I snort into my water.
Eventually, Joey excuses himself to his roomto do homework,which I translate asto text his friends about this entire day in excruciating detail.
I stand at the sink, rinsing plates, letting the warm water run over my hands.Behind me, I can hear Sidney moving around, tidying up, humming under his breath.
He comes up beside me, taking a plate from my hands.
You cooked,I protest.I can clean.
We can both clean,he says, giving my hip a playful bump.
I glance at him.His sleeves are rolled up, damp at the wrists.There are soap bubbles on his forearm and a smudge of something near his jaw.
He looks like he belongs here.In my kitchen.Surrounded by all of Joey’s and my things.His little touches evident around the space.I could imagine more of his things here too.
The realization hits so hard I have to grip the edge of the counter.
Hey,he says softly, noticing.You okay?
I nod, swallowing.Just…Yes, fine.Sorry.My mind just went somewhere…weird.
Good weird?he teases lightly, then sobers when I don’t answer right away.Talk to me.
I take a breath.Today…felt so easy.And easy is not something I’m used to.
His expression softens.Easy doesn’t mean it’s not real.
I know.My voice thickens.I just…I keep waiting for something to go wrong.For the other shoe to drop.
Maybe there is no other shoe,he says quietly.Maybe it’s just…this.Us.Figuring it out one day at a time.
I look at him, really look at him—this man who showed up for sick days and bad games and stupid teenage crises, who cooked in my kitchen and didn’t flinch at my messy edges.
Joey declared earlier that you’re his ‘favourite adult except you, Mom,’I say.
Sidney’s eyes widen comically.He did?
Yeah.
He blinks.That might be the highest honour I’ve ever received.
A laugh breaks out of me, half cry, half joy.
Maybe this could be our life.Not perfect.Not drama-free.But…shared.
I’m not just adding a boyfriend.I’m building a family I hadn’t known I was allowed to want.
And that terrifies me almost as much as it gives me hope.
