Sleep sweet.
My imagination conjures up those words in his growly voice and plays them on repeat, heating me up on the inside. I can’t believe he texted me already.
What does it mean?
Surely he is just checking in because he feels responsible for my well-being after our scene and my subsequent freakout.
That’s got to be it. He’s just being a good dominant. With that reassuring thought in my head, I fall into a deep, restful sleep. For the first time in longer than I can remember, the nightmares of the accident don’t haunt my dreams. Instead, I dream of dark eyes and heated kisses.
CHAPTERSIX
Addy
Morning comes way too early,like it always does when you have a little one. Henry is a morning person—something he definitely got from William because I’m the furthest thing from it. At six o’clock on the dot, Henry clamors up on my bed and on top of me.
“Wake up, mommy!”
I groan because no matter how good my sleep is, waking up is just not my favorite. Still, I muster up a smile for Henry and pull him into my arms, tickling his sides. His laughter warms my heart.
“Morning, little man. Are you hungry?”
“Pancakes!” he says excitedly.
I smile because I knew exactly what he would ask for. Last week, it was scrambled eggs. This week is pancakes… who knows what next week will be.
“Let’s go make some pancakes then.”
Henry hops excitedly from the bed and rushes to the kitchen. I follow at a slow shuffle, desperately needing my first hit of caffeine. I find Henry in the kitchen with his head in the fridge, standing up on tiptoe, trying to reach the eggs.
“Whatcha doing, buddy?”
“Helping with pancakes.”
“How about I get the ingredients, and you can pour them?”
“And stir?” he asks, excited by his new task.
“Of course you can stir. You’re the best stirrer around.” I ruffle his hair, then grab all the ingredients needed for his pancakes.
Henry stands on his stepstool, waiting patiently to pour each ingredient into the bowl. Once everything is measured, I hand him the spoon, and he enthusiastically starts stirring. Flour gets everywhere, but the smile on his face makes the mess totally worth it.
While he’s distracted with stirring, I load a pod into the coffee pot and push the button. The intoxicating scent of coffee fills the room, and already I feel myself perking up.
“All done, mommy!” Henry turns to me, and I shake my head at his appearance. He’s got flour on his cheek and half-mixed batter on his shirt.
“Good job, buddy. You’re such a good helper.”
He smiles broadly, proud of himself. I help him clean up in the sink, then send him to the other room to play while I finish making his breakfast. I drink my coffee and flip pancakes while listening to Henry play. Once the table is set and his milk is poured into a spill-free cup… and I have another cup of coffee ready, I head to his room.
He’s sitting in the middle of his floor, pushing trains around the big track we built just yesterday. I stand in the doorway, soaking up the quiet moment. I find myself doing this a lot these days. Taking mental pictures of anything and everything he does. He’s growing so fast, and I don’t want to miss a thing.
Which is why when we moved, I opted to stay home with him. William had a substantial insurance policy that set Henry and me up for life. I could’ve easily found a job and put him in daycare and let someone else have these moments, but that’s not what I want. I have the means to stay home and raise my son on my own, and I don’t feel guilty for using it. William would have wanted it this way. We always talked about me quitting my job and becoming a stay-at-home mom once Henry was born… now I’m following through with that wish.
“Breakfast is ready, buddy.”
Ever the little ball of energy, he jumps up and runs past me to the table. I shake my head at the sight that greets me when I get to the table myself. Henry is standing in his chair, the syrup bottle squeezed between his little hands as he pours it all over his plate and the table.
I quickly grab the bottle from his sticky hands. “I think you’ve got enough, dude.”