“Um, can I use your bathroom?” I ask while fighting off the floodgates.
“Don’t ask to use anything, please. I told you - my house is your house. The closest one is in your room - through the double doors over there.”
My room?
Hell. I don’t know why, but I assumed he would only have one room, and I was secretly hoping I’d be sharing a bed with him.
I nod, and then I head through the doors quickly before I fall apart. As it all catches up to me, I slide down the wall and sob silently in the dark.
***
Tag
Staring down at Trip, I think of all the times I’ve almost begged Ash to be with me. Now, I want it even more. I want to raise her son like he’s my own, and I want to love her. I still don’t know if I’m capable, but considering I’ve spent almost a year without fucking anyone but her, I’m pretty sure I’m through with my days of womanizing.
I can’t even think of another woman like that, and that can only mean I’m better than my dad. Maybe I can be that guy she needs after all.
She walks out, and I can tell she’s been crying. I’m sure the day has overwhelmed her. Being shot at has to be pretty fucking terrifying. When I find this bastard, he’ll pray I shoot him. The things I plan to do might send me to prison for a while.
“You hungry?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
I frown as I stare at her body withering away.
"You need to eat," I mutter before glancing toward the kitchen. “Betty,” I call, and the short, black-haired lady bobs in quickly with a ready-to-please smile. “Will you get Ms. Branderwood something to eat, please?”
She nods vehemently, and then she disappears back into the kitchen. I pick up the remote beside me while cradling Trip a little closer to my body, and I turn on all the lights of the house to cast a better glow.
“Better?” I ask as Ash sits down in the chair across from me.
“Yeah.”
“He can sleep in my room, if you want. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
Her eyes water more, and I want to ask her to sleep in my room, too. I’d love to feel her body wrapped around mine, but it wouldn’t be right to do to her right now. She’s too vulnerable.
“That’s okay. He sleeps pretty good, so he can just stay with me.”
“Can I ask where his father is and why he isn’t here checking on his son after a shot that could have killed either of you?”
She takes a deep breath, as though she’s trying not to fall apart. I shouldn’t be pressing this, but I have to. That asshole should show some fucking concern for his son and the mother of his son.
“He’s… it’s just… well, he isn’t part of Trip’s life. He’s sort of… well, we didn’t both have to change the way we lived for one mistake. I love Trip. To me, he’s not a mistake anymore. Now he’s real. Now he’s the best thing in my life, but his dad, well, his dad isn’t ready to be a dad - his words, not mine.”
“You think he’s ready to be a dad?” I ask curiously.
It almost feels like she cares about this son of a bitch, and it hurts like hell.
“I think he would be an incredible father, but until he’s ready, this is the best thing for Trip and for me.”
Taking a deep breath, I reposition the sleeping child in my arms. His lips bubble again, and I can’t help but smile. I feel so close to this little one, and I’m sure it’s because of what I feel for his mother.
“Do you miss his dad?” I ask, my heart stinging as the suspense fills the room.
Her eyes stare unwavering into mine.
“Very much.
He doesn’t do relationships though, and honestly, I don't think he ever will. Like I said, this is the best thing for both of us.”