I remembered in that moment, someone who had fought in this battle for us. Someone, by the looks of it, had fought in countless battles, someone who seemed like a human who was war.
Who had walked in holding my son’s hand and been dubbed ‘Captain America.’
My eyes were loath to leave my son, but I managed to move them to the doorway.
But it was empty.
He was gone.
“I have no words for how grateful I am to all of you,” I said, addressing the table.
At the table sat five men, all different forms of hot as balls. All muscled. All manly in every sense of the word. My friend Marie would be drooling right now. And then trying to hit on them, though not the three out of the five wearing wedding rings.
And not the one who had once held my son’s hand.
No. She would not hit on him because the thought of it made my fingers curl. I didn’t know why. He wasn’t my property. I didn’t know him. I was pretty sure he hated me, because he’d been glaring at me since I’d sat down at the table with the whole Greenstone Security team.
It was a meeting I’d requested, despite the thought of leaving Nathan so soon made me sick. But it had to be done.
Polly had promised not to let him out of her sight. I trusted her.
I’d also showered, because my son was right, I was ripe—but Nathan had been sitting on the toilet seat beside the shower, swinging his legs and chattering on about how weird the food had been at his ‘dad’s.’
“There was nothing colorful,” he said. “And it was cold. They made me wear different clothes. And there was a room that he said was my bedroom but I didn’t like it one bit and he yelled at me when I drew on the walls.”
I had paused, shampoo bottle poised above my palm.
My hand shook.
He had yelled.
Yelled at my son.
I squeezed the bottle tight, fury coursing through my veins. Had I made the wrong choice in telling Lance not to kill him? Because the thought of Nathan having to breathe his air ever again had me wishing I’d killed him myself.
But the thought washed away with the shampoo I’d squirted everywhere.
“Do I have to go back there, Mom?” Nathan asked. “Because he said it was my house, I told him I already had a house with you that I liked much better.” A pause. “I don’t think I liked him. Is that bad? All my other friends love their daddies but…”
He trailed off and the hurt and confusion in his voice speared me.
I yanked the shower curtain aside.
Nathan didn’t blink at my nakedness, he’d seen it all before, since living with a child meant your time, your privacy and your body was never your own. He was pounding on the door if I took longer than two seconds in the bathroom.
“You are not meant to love anyone you don’t want to love,” I told him over the trickle of the shower. Well, not trickle, but amazing pressure that was like nirvana compared to the either scorching hot or freezing cold dribble at our place. It was a waterfall shower. I wanted to live in there. Also because you didn’t have to face reality in showers.
“Your daddy is a complicated man who is not ready to be a daddy,” I said, striving to be as honest as I could be with a kid who couldn’t comprehend the truth. “He has troubles that he needs to fix. And maybe he won’t ever fix them. Some people aren’t born to be daddies and that’s not your fault. So maybe you might not ever see him again.” I paused, trying to read my son’s face. “Is that okay with you? Are you happy for it just to be you and your momma?”
He considered the question, as he always did. My boy was a thinker, he never responded straight away on instinct. “I’m okay with that. Sugarbear and Honeybun forever.”
I smiled, glad the shower could mask my tears. “Forever and ever, kiddo.”
Polly had provided me with some clothes from a closet that they had for clients. I’d expected a scratchy tracksuit… not a pair of cashmere sweatpants, the thinnest and softest fabric I’d ever touched or put on my body, and a crisp white tee.
I’d never understood people paying hundreds of dollars for clothing, didn’t get how something as simple as a tee shirt could be worth hundreds. It was a tee for goodness sakes.
But this. I got it. It felt like hundreds of dollars on my skin.
I’d braided my damp hair and then asked Keltan if it was possible to speak to everyone involved in getting Nathan back to me.
He’d smiled, squeezed my arm and said he’d take care of it.