I gasp. “The outrage. How can you choose a big oaf over the God of Thunder? Are you unwell? Did you hit your head and I missed it?” I ask, placing the back of my hand on his forehead. “Hmm, no fever. No blood.”
Oscar’s laughing at my antics. Maybe he doesn’t hate me?
“I like your hair. Mom won’t let me grow mine though. She says I need it short for school.” He pushes the door to the kitchen open.
I’m probably breaking every mom-and-dad code in the book when I say this, but oh well. “I’ll have a chat with your mom and see if I can’t change her mind. Long hair’s where it’s at.” I wink and head to the cupboard where I know Aimee hides all the good stuff.
I grab two chocolate muffins and make us a drink before sitting down at the table, the silence comfortable as we eat.
“Are you my dad?” Oscar blurts.
I choke on my food, hand pounding against my chest as I wheeze, “Huh?”
“I look like you. My eyes are the same color as yours and so is my hair. Are you my dad?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Where’s Blake? 911. Help.
“Let’s go find your mom, yeah?” I manage to squeak out. “I think she’s in the library. She likes it there, something about better lighting or… something.”
There goes my nervous rambling again.
I gather the items from the table, throw the wrappers in the trash and the cups in the sink, then tilt my head in alet's gosignal. Oscar’s quiet as we walk through the busy office. Colleagues look on with confused and curious glances as we amble past. Seeing as we’re predominantly a criminal law firm, having kids in the office isn’t common. I couldn’t really give a fuck though. My chest puffs out in pride that Oscar’s here.
We find Blake in the library, nibbling on the tip of a pen, lost in her own world.
“Mom,” Oscar says, running to her and hugging her.
She looks up, startled, before turning and embracing him. “Hey, bud. Did you have a good time?” she asks, pushing the hair off his face.
Butterflies start whirling in my stomach at the sight. But then the thoughts settle back in—they’re better off without you. They don’t need you. No one needs you.
I slap my face. I ain’t got time for this inner self critic bullshit today. They may not need me, but I need them. Oscar, I mean. I needOscar.
“Yeah, Theo called his friend to help with my English homework,” he says, sitting down next to her.
Blake gives me a quizzical look.
“Caleb,” I mouth. She nods once. She never met Caleb, but I talked about him and the guys often enough that she knowsofhim.
“Is Theo my dad?” Oscar asks Blake. How kids can blurt things out without a care in the world, only to ultimately put adults on the spot, is a trait I’m not sure should be celebrated or chastised.
Sweat rolls its way down my spine, and I hold my breath waiting to see how Blake plays this. Will she tell him or keep it from him for longer?
I watch as she tenses before squaring her shoulders. “You remember when I said we don’t lie to each other? That lying is bad, and you should always tell the truth?”
Oscar nods, his blond hair moving with the action.
Blake takes a deep breath and glances up at me, affection in her eyes. I suck in a breath at what she’s about to do.
“Yes, buddy. Theo’s your dad.”
Now, I’d been expecting Oscar to scream he doesn’t want me as his dad, that he’d prefer literally anyone other than me, but all he says is, “Cool.”
Cool? Just cool? Oh god, he hates me. That’s why he isn’t jumping up and down and hugging me. My eyes dart to Blake, wide and terrified, but she smiles at me.
Why is she smiling at me? What the hell is going on right now? I feel sick to my stomach. I’m gonna be sick.
Sensing my distress, Blake pushes away from the desk and walks toward me while Oscar plops down in her vacated chair. She doesn’t try to touch me, just leans in close enough to whisper, “This is a good thing, big guy. Trust me. Just give him some time to process, and everything will be fine, I promise.”
