The silence that bounced between us was heavy and thick, the shock coalescing between us, moving back-and-forth, faster and harder until Jameson snatched his hand away, curled his fingers into his palms and made a fist. He started breathing harder as if he couldn’t get enough oxygen into his lungs, and I watched as he gripped the arm of the couch, his nails digging into the fabric and making a soft scratching sound.
It was as if he were using it as leverage, as if he were afraid if he didn’t hold on he’d crumble to the ground.
“The father?” Jameson wheezed out then shifted on the cushion so he was looking straight ahead, breathing harshly as if he couldn’t catch his breath. And then his body went ramrod straight, his head turning toward me, his focus clear as water. “That night... that night we got drunk and...”
I nodded when it was clear he couldn’t finish speaking. “Yeah.” My voice was thick and husky. “I didn’t have any way to tell you, and that broke me.” I sniffed, cleared my throat, then started blinking a lot.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“You were all alone,” Jameson said with such a deep voice it was clear his emotions were just as high as mine were. “I left you all alone to deal with a pregnancy and a baby and… I’m so sorry.”
I shook my head and brushed away the tears that fell, hating that I couldn’t be stronger. “It’s not your fault. No apologies. It's no one's fault. It is just something that happened, and here we are with this perfect little boy.” Just then Caleb roused, his eyes blinking open, his body stretching in that way newborns did. His little mouth opened, his pink, adorable toothless gums coming into view.
“Can I… Can I hold him?”
I snapped my eyes up to Jameson and felt my heart race even more. I nodded slowly and moved closer toward him, watching as his shaky hands lifted up.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” His voice was so soft.
I didn’t speak as I placed the tiny bundle in his arms. “Just support his head.” Jameson placed a big hand on the back of Caleb’s head, and then he leaned back, resting against the cushions, his focus completely transfixed on the baby.
“Lia,” Jameson groaned and closed his eyes before opening them and blinking rapidly. “He looks just like me.”
I covered my mouth with my hands and nodded, then realized he couldn’t see me because he was still staring at the baby. “I know. It’s crazy, right?” Caleb’s eyes were fully open now, and my heart broke in the best way as my son stared up raptly at his father. “I’m pretty sure his eyes will be the same shade as yours.”
Jameson nodded and smiled, his thumb gently moving back and forth, stroking Caleb’s downy soft hair. “Yeah,” he finally said, then cleared his throat.
“I’d seen this visit going so differently,” he murmured, his voice low and deep, as if he was trying to hold in all his emotion.
I was right there along with him, feeling like I’d been transported to some alternate dimension, knowing that life had turned itself upside down, and although he seemed so very accepting of the situation—of baby Caleb—I still worried about what was going to happen between him and I.
I was in love with him, still hadn’t told him that, and I was afraid. I was terrified to alter this moment in time, where we were in this perfect little bubble.
“I’d pictured our reunion so many times over the last year.” He looked at me then.
I felt my heart jump into my throat before plummeting into the pit of my stomach. But I said nothing. I didn’t even move. I knew he had more to say. I could see that written across his face.
“This last year has been hell for me... because I was away from you.” He swallowed. “God, it’s been hell being away from you, and even more so now because I know what you had to go through alone.” He closed his eyes, squeezed them shut for just a second before he opened them again and looked at me with those Caribbean blue irises. “I love you so much, Lia.”
I smiled, feeling my emotions choke me up all over again. “I love you too, Jameson,” I responded easily, so very truthfully. So much more truthfully than he’d ever know.
No, that wasn’t true. He was going to know today. At this moment.
Right now.
“I’m in love with you—”
“I’m in love with you—”
We both spoke at the same time, the words war between us, hanging in the air, so thick you could cut them with a knife. I felt my eyes widen. I watched as his did the same.
It was Jameson who spoke first, his voice seeming even deeper. “W-What…” His eyes were so wide. “Say that again,” he said the latter so softly I almost didn’t hear.