I laugh. “You know I’m too big and too old to be in there.”
“You’re not too big,” he argues. “Dad and EJ are too big. You could play in there with me.”
I smile. My son innocently points out my height disadvantage because it means I can still fit into all the nooks and crannies of the playhouse.
“Please, Momma?” He then adds in a whisper, “No one will notice you’re not a kid.”
Henry can’t hold in his laughter anymore and I shake my head with a smile. “Okay, but only for a few minutes.” He slides off my lap, takes my hand, and drags me into the playroom. I kick off my shoes and follow after him. While I may be short and small, the tube we crawl through still feels like a tight fit. For a moment, I panic about how embarrassing it would be if I was to get stuck in here.
Jackson cannonballs into the ball pit. I simply step into it.
“Let’s play hide and seek, Momma!”
“Okay. You’re on.”
He dives under the balls and I grin before coming after him. He can move easier than I can in here. I blame the fact that he’s more experienced and even smaller than I am. I eventually capture him, tickling his stomach and sending him into a fit of giggles.
“Okay, Momma! Stop!” he shouts in between his laughs.
“Tell me something I want to hear.”
“I love you! Best momma ever! Please!”
I stop and he takes a couple of deep breaths with a wide smile on his face. “Maybe we should stop and go hang out with your dad. He looks lonely.”
Jackson swivels to look at Henry. He nods solemnly. We climb out of the playhouse, put our shoes back on, and walk to Henry.
“All done?”
“We didn’t want to leave you out of our fun,” I say. “Let’s go to your house for a bit, if that’s okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
At Henry’s, we play with the toys Jackson has quickly accumulated here and play board games. We even watch a movie. I ignore a few texts from Elias, who attempts to check in and start conversations with me. I replay the conversation with Elias in my mind over and over. What possible good did he think would come out of it? That’s what I don’t understand.
Maybe this is Elias’s way of deciding he doesn’t want this with me anymore. He thinks if I talk about unresolved issues with Henry, then I’ll leave him for Henry? Is that what he wants? He said he didn’t, but then why mention it? I don’t freaking know. All I know is that it’s time for Jackson and me to go home, a home that isn’t really mine, and the thought makes me want to vomit.
I drive us home. Henry says goodbye, wishes me luck, and returns to his house in his car. With a deep breath, we walk inside.
Elias is in the kitchen and he turns after grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “Hey.”
“Hey. We’re going upstairs so Jackson can shower before bed.” I grab my laptop from the table, exactly where I left it.
He nods. I worry he might follow us, but he doesn’t. My stomach aches at the thought that this might be awkward. I don’t want that, especially since I love my job, and the last thing I need is for this to interfere. My heart hurts and bursts with pain over the idea that Elias and I might be over. Even worse is that little voice in the back of my mind that wishes for it. The one that wants my world to revert back to the way it was when it was just Jackson and me. The only person I had to worry about was Jackson. Now, I’m concerned with Elias, Bree, and me. It’s too much!
What was I thinking anyway? Getting involved with someone I work for? In allowing my son to know so soon, only for his heart to be broken right alongside mine when things inevitably go wrong? This is only the first sign. It’s the start of my new life going downhill. I was stupid for thinking I could have anything good in my life other than Jackson.
My world has finally expanded, but it hinged upon my meeting Elias. Will my new, wide world collapse if we fall apart? It feels as if it already is.
When Jackson finishes up, I tuck him into bed and manage to change into my own pajamas before there’s a soft knock on my locked door. I tiptoe over. I could keep ignoring him, right?
“Raelynn?” he softly calls. “Can we talk?”
My forehead lightly bangs against the door. He’s not even in the room and tension wraps around my heart like a vise. “Can we do it tomorrow?”
Silence answers me at first. “I’d rather handle this now.”
“Well, I’m tired and I’d rather not.” At least there’s some truth in that.