I watch them for a long beat. He’s already getting close to Weston, getting attached. And this scares me. Ethan has never had a father figure. It’s most likely a psychological need for most children, to have both a mother and father to look up to. He needs this. He wants this. And what if it were suddenly taken from him when he finally had a taste of it?
“We should get going,” I say. “Ethan is tired. I should put him to bed.”
“Why don’t you two stay the night,” he suggests, taking me by surprise. “He could sleep in the guest room.”
“Uh… I don’t know…”
A slow smile curves his lips. “If I recall correctly, I still owe you a massage,” he whispers. “And a few other delights.”
The thought of this really makes me stop and think. Maybe Ethan wouldn’t mind. Maybe he would even love it. “Well… let’s see what Ethan thinks.”
Weston smiles. “Hey, Ethan. Do you like big beds?”
Ethan grins and nods.
Weston rises from the sofa and takes Ethan’s hand. “Let’s go see the guest room. There’s a big bed in there.”
I follow them as we head to the guest room.
Ethan runs in eagerly, and points excitedly. “Turtle.”
Thank goodness he can’t reach that high because that turtle would be in serious danger. He motions to the wall, and points at a photo of a dolphin. “Fish.”
I smile. “I think he likes this room.”
Weston grins playfully. “So Ethan, do you want to sleep in this bed?”
Ethan dashes over to the bed, and attempts to climb up on the mattress but it sits too high, nestled between four posts. Weston helps him up, and Ethan jumps up and down on the mattress.
I scurry over. “No jumping, Ethan, okay? You could fall.”
He stops and sits.
“So how about it?” I say. “Do you want to sleep on this bed?”
He nods enthusiastically.
“We’ll just need to go fetch a few things from our place,” I tell Weston.
He smiles and kisses me on the cheek. “Don’t be too long.”
Ethan and I dash to the elevator, ride down, and scurry across the hall to our place. I quickly pack all we’ll need for the sleepover. Ethan is as giddy as I am — he knows we’re up to something fun.
When we get back to the penthouse, I bring him to the washroom. He pees and I slide some Pull-Ups on. He’s fully potty trained but still wears the Pull-Ups at night. We wash our hands and brush our teeth, and he’s ready for bed.
He’s bursting with excitement as we head back to the big bed. He crawls in eagerly, and I kiss him good night.
“Sten,” he says and reaches his arms out.
I turn to Weston. “I think he wants you to kiss him goodnight.”
Weston smiles and inches closer. He kisses him softly on the forehead. “Goodnight, little buddy.”
“Night,” Ethan says, all smiles.
I don’t know how I feel about this. It’s sweet as pie, but it also leaves me a little uneasy.
Weston pats his head gently. “I’m going to turn off the lights, and you go to sleep, okay?”
