“He’s never met you. You can’t just prod him.”
Never met me…
And yet I feel an instant, sudden, certain love unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. As I look into his eyes and his distraught beautiful little face, I know I’d do anything for him, anything at all. I’d give up all my riches and go to war with the entire world for him.
“I wasn’t going to prod him,” I tell her. “I just… wanted to make sure he was real.”
For the first time since we reunited, her guard falls completely. For a moment, something like true affection flashes across her features. She cradles her son –ourson – closer to her chest, rocking him gently, as he continues to wail.
Quickly, she gets her guard back up. “He’s real, believe me. My back wouldn’t be aching so badly if he were make-believe.”
“I knew you looked curvier,” I say.
She flinches.
“In a good way,” I rush to add. “Hand on heart, Ava, that was one of the first things I thought when I saw you.Damn, how has she got even more attractive?”
“That’s quite the line,” she murmurs, avoiding my eyes.
“It’s the truth,” I say. “Whether or not you want to believe it.” A pause. “Does he need feeding? Burping or whatever?”
“Or whatever,” she echoes.
“Burping,” I say. “Or something else?”
“Sometimes, babies just cry,” she says tiredly. “Sometimes, there’s a reason, sure. But other times, they just cry to keep their mommy on her toes.”
“I can tell you’re an incredible mother.”
She rolls her eyes, but a smile tugs at her lips. “Oh, really? And how exactly did you figure that out?”
God, I love her sass. It was one thing that drew me to her that night almost a year ago, and it hasn’t faded one bit.
“He’s wailing loud enough to bust your eardrums, but you look like you could do this all day,” I say.
“I get frustrated sometimes. All moms do. It doesn’t mean we don’t love our babies.”
“Now you’re disagreeing just to disagree,” I rumble.
She tilts her head as if to say,What now?It’s not like she can think I’m going to meet my son then just forget he exists, surely.
“Let me hold him,” I say.
She hesitates visibly, shifting from foot to foot.
“Ava, he’s my son. My blood. I already feel a connection to him. He has myeyes. He’s half me. I know I’ve been gone, but I swear to God?—”
“Ah, yeah, you thought I was dead.” She laughs shakily.
I grind my teeth. “I’m asking you, please, let me hold my child.”
“Just for a minute,” she says after a pause, licking her lips nervously.
She gently hands him to me.
“You might have to give me some pointers,” I murmur, as I take my son into my arms.
“Just be gentle… if you can.”
