Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“You shouldn’t look at it that way, Tate. It wasn’t your choice not to be there for him. You can just start from today, without feeling like you need to work ten times harder to make up for something you didn’t know you were missing.”
“Thank you for saying that. It’s clear that despite my absence all these years, Nicholas doesn’t want for anything. He’s happy, healthy, and balanced. That’s all because of you, mama. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
I didn’t need his approval, but his words warmed my soul. In his absence, I’d often wondered whether Tate would be proud of the job I was doing raising his son.
He looked over at Nicholas playing. “I failed so badly with Taylor. I can’t let anything like that happen with Nicholas.”
“It won’t. You’ve grown a lot since then, and things are so much better with you and Taylor.”
Tate took a deep breath. “We need to work out how I can help you financially. I’d like to set up a system where I put a certain amount of my salary into an account for Nicholas each week.”
I stiffened. “I don’t need your money.” Why does that idea make me so uncomfortable?
“But I want to help, even if you don’t need it. It’s not like you’re living in the lap of luxury. Taking care of him is just as much my responsibility as it is yours. You shouldn’t have to bear the brunt of it anymore.”
With that, I identified the source of my fear. Financial help was a reminder that Nicholas was no longer solely mine. It felt like a loss of power somehow. Yet I needed to get used to it. “You wouldn’t try to take him from me, right?”
Tate’s brows furrowed as disappointment crossed his face. “Of course not.”
“Maybe that was the wrong way to phrase my question. I know you wouldn’t take him per se.” I let out a shaky breath. “But I don’t want to give up any custody. I don’t want him to have to live in two places.”
Tate’s eyes softened. “Blair, I have no intention of taking him away from the home where he feels safe. I just wanna get to know him and love him. And I want to support you in any way I can. That’s really all. I’m not gonna turn this into some kind of competition.” His eyes seared into mine. “You have my word.”
Nodding, I said, “Okay.” I exhaled, feeling a bit foolish. “I’m sorry I went off the rails for a minute there. It just hit me that since we now have DNA proof, he’s not legally all mine anymore. You have rights, Tate. And it’s wrong of me to even ask you to ignore them, but—”
He cut me off. “I would never do anything to hurt you or him. Please believe that. I want to be in his life, but not in any way you don’t want. Promise you’ll trust me.”
“I do trust you.” I looked down for a moment, trying to gather myself. “I just let my fear get out of hand.”
When I looked back up at Tate, he was closer. The fear I’d felt a minute ago transformed into something altogether different. I tried to curb the feelings of longing, but in this moment, I was transported back to that place four years ago, where desire consumed my every breath. Tate cupped my cheek before tracing my face with the back of his fingers. Then he pulled away with a jolt, as if for a moment he’d forgotten our dilemma. He’d forgotten about Taylor. He was just my Tate again. But before I could blink, it was over.
He walked over to Nicholas and joined him at the edge of the sandbox. Goose bumps peppered my skin as I watched them play, still reeling from the brief feel of his fingers against my cheek.
As the sun began to set, the three of us walked back into the house together.
“Can you stay for dinner?” Tate asked, the tension in the air certainly thicker than when I’d first arrived.
I thought it wise to limit the time spent around Tate today, given my inability to avoid feeling things I shouldn’t, yet I didn’t want to disappoint him after he’d gone to such lengths for Nicholas. And we did need to eat something before getting back on the road.
“We can stay, sure.”
“Does he like pasta?”
“Loves it.”
“I bought like five kinds.” Tate flashed a crooked grin.
“You don’t say…”
“What’s his favorite?”
“Spaghetti.”
“Got that.” Tate nodded, seeming pleased with himself. “And what does his mama like?”
God, that was a loaded question. Now probably wasn’t the appropriate time to admit I was most hungry for him. “I’ll have some of whatever pasta you make.”
Nicholas had gotten interested in a train set Tate had set up in the living room.