I stretch out the kinks in my back as I move, having been hunched over the desk for the last however many hours.
“You okay there, old man?” she sasses, her eyes twinkling.
“Come over here, and I’ll show you how much of an old man I’m not,” I reply, my tone low and slightly turned on.
After the night at hers a week ago, the dreams have kicked up tenfold, meaning I’m in a constant state of arousal. My hand’s been doing overtime, and I’ve lost count of the nights I’ve woken up mid-release or the times I’ve had to take the edge off in the shower. At first, Blake was messing with my head in a bad way. Now, she’s messing with my head in a good way, and I still can’t do fuck all about it.
Kill me now, please.
I bite my lip as she tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “I need to ask a favor. Well, it's not really a favor. Okay, maybe it is, but?—”
“What is it?” I chuckle. Her rambling is too cute, and I have to stop the urge to haul her into my arms.
“So, I have an appointment today, uh, a lady appointment. With everything going on, I completely forgot. Are you—I mean, would you be okay to pick Oscar up from school?”
“Hell fucking yeah, I will,” I reply, moving toward her. “Don’t ever be afraid to ask me to spend time with my son. The answer will always be yes.”
“Thank you. It’s just so weird for me, you know? Other than Mrs. Mitchell, I’ve never relied on anyone else, so it’s going to take a while to get used to it.”
Running a finger gently down her face, I reply, “I get that. I’m just really happy you asked me.”
Blake leans into my touch before pulling back. “Okay. I called the school and have emailed your details to them so they’ll release Oscar into your care. Do you want to take him home? I can give you a key?”
“I’d like to take him out somewhere if that’s alright? Nothing crazy. We can grab dinner and bring it back with us?” I suggest, hoping she doesn’t shut me down.
“I’m sure he’d love that,” she replies, giving me a soft look.
“We’ll see you later then.”
She nods, then turns on her heel and leaves my office. I do a fist bump in the air, excited for this afternoon.
When I reach Oscar’s school, I’m shaking with nerves. I have no idea what I’m doing. Do I go in? Wait for him here? I sit in the car, watching the other parents to see what they do. Some get out, some stay in their vehicles… helpful.
I decide to get out and lean against the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. A bell rings, signaling the end of the day, and I stand up straight, my palms sweaty. Will he be happy to see me, or will he be upset it’s not Mrs. Mitchell?
Stop it, Theo, I internally chastise.We’re not doing that anymore. I know you’re trying to protect me, but you’re not helping. There’s no reason for him not to be happy to see me.
It’s exhausting trying to bat away the inner self-critic, but Mike says it is the only way. Since I’ve been in a state of fight or flight for so long, my brain only knows how to protect me. If I say derogatory stuff about myself, it won’t faze me when someone else does. I’ve never spoken to myself so much internally as I have recently, but it seems to be working.
“Dad,” Oscar shouts, pulling me out of my self-berating.
I give him a broad smile and open my arms. He runs straight into them, hugging me.
“How was your day, little dude?” I ask, messing up hishair with a grin.
“Good.” He laughs, batting my hand away. “Where’s Mrs. Mitchell?”
It’s okay, Theo, he’s just asking. Breathe. He doesn’t hate you.
“Your mom asked me to come get you today. Is that alright? I thought we could head down to the new comic bookstore that’s opened? I heard they have some incredible figurines,” I suggest with a wink.
The smile he gives me is one of pure happiness.
Guess he doesn’t hate me.
“Yes!” he shouts, fist bumping the air.
Definitely my child, I think to myself as I turn around and usher him inside the car.
