I pull him into my arms. “Shhhh,” I murmur over and over until his crying subsides.
I cradle him for about ten minutes while he calms down enough to open his eyes and look up at me. “I want Mummy,” he says, his voice wobbling.
I run my fingers through his hair. “I know, little man, but Mummy has gone away.” My voice cracks. Nothing prepares you for parenthood, but nothing fucking prepares you for this.
“When will she be back?” This question gets me every time he asks it. What do you tell a child when the truth is worse than any bad dream they will ever have?
It’s been a good six months since he’s seen her. I used to take him to visit her in prison, but I stopped when I discovered the truth. It was bad enough taking a child to that place when I thought his mother was wrongfully there, but no way was I allowing her to see him once I knew who she really was.
I stare down into eyes that will always remind me who his mother is. “I don’t know.” It’s the most honest answer I can give him. And honesty is something I will always give him because those you love deserve nothing less.
He thinks about that for a little while, and I continue to hold him. Finally, he says, “I miss her.” His words shred my heart a little more, and I swallow down my pain.
Nodding, I say, “I know.”
His head snuggles against my chest, and we sit like this for another ten minutes until he falls back asleep. I place him back in bed and pull the covers up. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, I whisper, “I love you.”
By the time I make it back to Callie, she’s eaten almost all the chocolate. It looks like she may have left me two pieces. Either that, or she’s still planning on eating them.
She hits me with an expression that tells me she’s concerned. “Is he okay?”
I sit next to her and drape my arm along the couch behind her. “No. He’s been having these nightmares for a long time now. He always wakes up screaming for Jolene. I don’t know what to tell him except that I don’t know when she’ll be back.”
She places her hand on my knee. “That’s all you can tell him, Luke. It’s the truth, right?”
I suck in a breath at her contact. “Yeah, and that’s all we’ve got.”
Nodding, she agrees. “More people should stick to the truth. Life would make a lot more sense I think.”
She’s emphatic, and while I don’t completely agree with her that life would make a lot more sense if everyone was always completely honest, I love the way she believes in things and will fight to argue her point. I want to kiss her right now. My eyes drop to her lips, and my gaze lingers there until she stands.
“Oh no you don’t,” she mutters, running her fingers through her long, blonde hair. “You can’t look at my lips that way.”
She’s right. And my dick would agree because her lips are dangerous territory.
I stand and meet her gaze. “It’s hard not to look at them that way, baby.”
Her eyes widen, and she presses her hands against my chest. “No, no, no! Stop talking.”
I chuckle and raise my hands in surrender. “I won’t look at your lips anymore.”
She picks up her bag. “Good.”
I eye her bag slung over her shoulder. “Are you leaving?”
“Yeah, I have an article to write for work, and it’s my first real article, so I want it to be perfect.”
I frown. “Aren’t all your articles real?”
“I mean, it’s not just a story about local events. My boss asked if anyone wanted to write a piece about putting a sugar tax on soft drinks. It’s not due until the end of the week, but I want to put some time into research so I can back up my point of view.”
“Where do you stand on it?”
“I’m for it.”
I whistle low. “I look forward to reading it.”
She cocks her head. “You don’t believe in it?”