I brown the ground meat and add in the homemade sauce I whipped up, then set the noodles to boil when I realize that it’s quiet in the living room. I grab the hand towel from the handle of the oven and dry my hands before checking on Olive and Briggs.
When I do, I stop in my tracks. Olive is sound asleep on Briggs’ chest, with his hands protectively holding her in place as he snores lightly.
In the twenty minutes I was in the kitchen, they fell asleep together. If I thought my ovaries were having a fit before… well now, they’re exploding. Sighing, I shake my head trying to clear the bad, very bad thoughts from intruding, but it seems impossible staring at them.
I pull my phone out of the pocket of my worn hoodie and text Ty.
Me: I don’t know which logical, intelligent part of me thought this was going to be easy.
I walk back into the kitchen to stir the sauce when my phone dings with his response.
Ty: Honey, that man exudes BD energy. Did you ever think you’d be safe from his charms? Shall I remind you of how sweetie pants O got here in the first place?
No, I surely did not. I’d never forget the whirlwind weekend that we spent together at the lake. Even when I hated him, I couldn’t seem to push him from my mind, no matter how hard I tried to forget him.
The truth is, I left that night, as much as it hurt me to, because I knew exactly who Briggs was. Or at least, I thought I did then. And even though I felt like I got to know the real him, I knew whatever happened between us wouldn’t last. I thought, he’s a professional hockey player… one who stays in the headlines, the last thing I should do is start something with someone who can’t commit.
I never expected to end up pregnant, or for the events that unfolded to happen.
Now, together, we’re navigating the messy, turbulent waters of parenthood. I’m desperately trying to keep my distance because my heart can’t take the beating, and at the end of the day Olive is what matters. Making sure we work together as a team, seamlessly, that’s what matters.
My heart has no say in the matter, even if he is the most charming man on the planet.
Me: Look at this.
I type, then walk over to the archway and snap a photo of Briggs and Olive, cuddled together asleep on the couch then attach it to my message to Ty.
His typing bubble pops up immediately.
Ty: Oh my God. Are you kidding me?dying emojiEven Kyle said that is so frickin cute and you know he’s still holding a grudge the size of Texas.
I laugh out loud, quickly covering my mouth to stifle the sound, careful not to wake them before typing back.
Me: I know. It’s hard, Ty. I just… I don’t want to tell him about The Puck Bunny. It’s only going to hurt him, whatgoodwould it even do? We’re already so tangled in this mess. I just, ugh, I don’t know what to do.
Ty: I know honey, but what if you don’t tell him? What will happen in the end? Will he be angry that you didn’t tell him in the beginning and think that you lied? Maybe you should, and then you can start with a clean slate and things will wind up much better than you think.
Tears well in my eyes, and I quickly swipe them away. Sheesh, my hormones are completely out of control. I blame them, but deep down, I’m scared. Each day that passes, I struggle more and more with the right thing, the right decision. I’m scared if I’m honest, it’ll destroy him even further, and I can’t stomach that. But… at the same time, if I don’t tell him, then what happens? What will the future hold? After the conversation the night that we got home from the hospital, it’s been all that I can think about, co-parenting or not, he’s my little girl’s daddy.
Me: Love you, Ty. Give Kyle a kiss for me. Visit us soon?
Ty: You know it, baby. Uncle Kyle and I can’t wait to give sweet girl snuggles.
By the time I’m done texting Ty, the water in the pot of noodles has begun to boil over, and I curse.
“Shit.”
Suddenly, I feel a presence, and I look up to see Briggs standing behind me, reaching over me to remove the pot from the burner that I almost burn my finger on.
“I’ve got it,” he says softly, before stepping around me to pour the boiling water into the strainer.
“Thank you, I got distracted.” I bring my hand to my forehead and massage the ache that’s beginning to form behind my eyes. “I think you’re right; I am exhausted.”
He nods, giving me a small upturn of his lips. “You need rest. Let’s eat, and then after, you can take a hot bath and relax. I’ve got Olive.”
“Are you sure? I’m okay, really. Once she has her last feeding, she will-” He cuts me off by placing the rough pad of his finger over my lips.
“Yes, Maddison. I’ve got this. Relax.”