I drink in every detail like it’s the last glass of water in a desert. Because I need to remember this normal, simple happiness when the nights get hard.
When we get home, we curl up on the couch to watch a movie together, and my heart wrenches whenThe Princess Brideflashes across the list of options.
Quickly passing it, I shift over to the animated selection, and we land on a movie about a boy and a dragon.
Jackson falls asleep halfway through, his head on my lap, and for a while I just sit there, memorizing the weight of him.
I should take him up to bed, but selfishly, I’m not ready to part with him.
I’ve already walked away from the most important man in my life.
I need just a few more minutes with my son before I tuck him in.
I’m still not ready to face my bed alone when the credits roll, but I can’t keep leaning on Jackson. “Hey, bud,” I whisper, gently combing his hair back from his forehead with my fingers. “It’s bedtime.”
He gives a soft moan and stirs, rubbing his eyes with his fists. “Did I miss it?” he asks, his face falling as he looks at the screen.
“That’s okay. We’ll watch it again this weekend,” I promise.
“Okay!” Jackson brightens.
“But now, it’s time for bed.”
He gets up without argument, leading the way to the stairs as I turn off the TV, and we go our separate ways to get changed and brush our teeth.
“I’m ready!” he calls from his room fifteen minutes later, and I can’t help but smile.
Because even if he’s eager to grow up, I love that Jackson still wants me to tuck him in at night.
He’s already under the covers when I come into his room, and I settle on the edge of the bed to lean in and kiss his forehead.
“Mom?” he asks, looking up at me with his wide, innocent green eyes.
“Hmm?” I ask, pulling his comforter up closer to his chin.
“Where’s Gio? Is he coming home late tonight?”
The question is a blade between my ribs, and I smooth his hair back and swallow hard. “No, sweetheart. Gio’s… not coming around anymore.”
His little brow furrows in a look of deep concern. “Why?”
I force a smile I don’t feel. “Sometimes, grown-ups have to make choices that don’t make sense to kids. But it’s not because of you, okay? He cares about you a lot.”
He studies me for a long moment, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. Then, in the softest voice, he asks, “Are you okay?”
The lump in my throat nearly chokes me. “Yeah, bud. I’m okay.”
Sitting back up, Jackson wraps his arms around my neck. I squeeze him back, maybe a little too tightly, and kiss his hair.
“Good night, Mom,” he mumbles against my shoulder.
“Good night, Jay. I love you.”
“Love you too,” he says softly.
As I leave his room, I close the door quietly behind me.
I make it three steps down the hall before the first sob tears free from my chest.
