Follow Me Back (Fight for Me 2)

“I know that. But right now, with Dane showing up here, I need to be careful.”

Honestly, I shouldn’t have been shocked when I’d received the papers that he was going after joint custody.

It was nothing but a show, I knew that. The vile man wasn’t doing anything but keeping up appearances and then turning right around and hating me for having the audacity to actually leave him.

I should have left him as soon as he’d reacted to the news of Evan’s heart the way he had, our son only a couple days old.

But I’d believed in him, in the man I’d thought I’d married, and had been certain it was only shock and grief and fear making him behave the way he had.

Rejecting our precious child as if he were a stain.

The years had whittled away that faith until there’d been nothing left before the proverbial final nail was driven into the coffin, the one that still made me sick to my stomach.

“Not all men are pricks, Hope. You just happened to marry one.”

“He definitely set the bar, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, so low the snake couldn’t even slither under it.”

Light laughter escaped me, and I let her hold me up for a little bit. When I heard the clatter of footsteps smacking the floor behind me, I shifted, turning to look back over the couch.

Evan stood there, dripping wet and making puddles on my wood floor, clutching the ends of the towel, which he hadn’t taken the time to actually dry with, to his chest.

He was grinning that smile that decimated me. My heart so full I was sure any second it would burst.

He hooked his towel under his chin and chest.

FINISHED, he signed.

GOOD BOY, I signed back.

Jenna shifted all the way around. “Come give Auntie a hug good night.”

Evan scrambled around the couch, throwing himself at her. My best friend squeezed him and wiggled him around. She roughed a hand through his wet hair. “Who’s my favorite little man?”

EVAN THE GREAT! he signed.

“That’s right,” she said. “Because You. Are. Great.”

Grinning from ear to ear, he nodded emphatically.

My miracle boy.

They say there is no love like a mother’s, and I’d never claim to love my child more than any other mother loved theirs. But what I did know with everything inside me was I couldn’t love mine more. That I’d never know a love greater.

He’d been written on me.

In me.

For me.

I knew I’d been the one created specifically for his care because I loved him in a way that no one else could.

In a way that was ours.

Whole and complete.

I pushed from the couch and set my wine on the coffee table.

TIME FOR BED.

He made an oh-man face, before he was trotting off toward his room, and by the time I made it there, he had already pulled on his underwear and tee. He jumped into bed, and I dimmed the light, crossed the room, and lowered to my knees beside him.

He pulled the covers up to his chest and wiggled beneath them.

COZY?

A nod, Evan still oozing love and smiles.

GOOD.

I hesitated, considering what to say. If I even should. I bit my lip as I stared down at my incredible son.

WHAT DID YOU THINK ABOUT TODAY? I finally asked.

In the dim light, his green eyes danced, his lips and hands quick with their reply.

ABOUT MY NEW DOCTOR?

We always mouthed the words to each other when we signed since Dane had refused to learn. He’d claimed we were only giving Evan a crutch. If he worked hard enough, listened better, if we didn’t coddle him, he might be normal.

What an asshole.

YES, I gestured.

I THINK YOU WERE RIGHT.

I frowned. ABOUT WHAT?

THAT HE’S NICE.

BECAUSE OF THE LOLLIPOPS?

He didn’t hesitate with his response. YES. THAT, AND HE’S GENTLE, AND HE DOESN’T WANT TO HURT ME.

My guts clenched. I DON’T THINK ANY OF YOUR DOCTORS WANT TO HURT YOU. SOMETIMES THEY HAVE TO. TO KEEP YOU HEALTHY.

With honesty, he blinked up at me. BUT SOMETIMES THEY GET USED TO IT, AND THEY FORGET TO BE CAREFUL.

My son saw things in a different way.

As if he were years older.

Insightful.

Quick and keen.

Kind and knowing.

Maybe it was because the constant noises most of us were inundated with were silenced for him. Because he could observe people without having to listen to the things they said. Actions always spoke so much louder than words.

I WISH YOU NEVER HAD TO HURT, I told him. IF I COULD, I WOULD TAKE IT ALL AWAY.

I KNOW, M-A-M-A. He signed Mama instead of Mom, which he only did when he wanted to make me feel special. I could feel the affection in it, his love as he spelled out the letters.

I smoothed my hand out over his chest, felt the steady thrum beneath my palm. My heart, I mouthed.

Evan reached out and set his on mine. My heart, he mouthed the same.