Misconception (Coming Home)

He places both of his hands on my face, and with him this close, our bodies skin to skin, all I can do is peer up at him, swallowing back my emotions.

“Beautiful,” he says huskily.

I see it happening before he does it. His approach is slow, giving me time to push him away, but I want his lips on mine. For this very reason, I don’t shy away from him as he lowers his mouth. His lips are soft as they move over mine. I wrap my arms around his waist and cling to him.

When we’re both in need of air, he pulls back, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t keep the tears from falling. My tears mix with the water, but my quivering lip gives me away.

“Come here.” He pulls me into his arms, and I rest my cheek against his chest. “I’ve got you, baby. From here on out, it’s you and me.”

His words only make me sob harder, but that doesn’t seem to faze him. His hold never wavers. I accept his comfort as the emotions of the past year wash over me. It’s more than us sleeping together and me running. It’s more than the pregnancy and our son that no one knows is his. It’s missing him. It’s thinking he didn’t want our baby boy or me. It’s everything. Letting go while he holds me heals a piece of me that I once thought was broken.

“Hayes?” I ask when I finally lift my head.

“He’s in his crib, but I brought the baby monitor in with me so that we could hear him if he wakes up.”

I nod. “Thank you, Hudson.”

“Hey.” His index finger lifts my chin so he can see me. “Don’t ever thank me for loving the two of you.”

I nod again. I don’t know what to say. “We should get out. He’s going to be hungry soon, and we have a lot to talk about.”

He places a kiss on the corner of my mouth as he reaches around me and turns off the water. Stepping out, he grabs a towel to wrap around me, before reaching into the closet and grabbing one for himself.

“Did you sleep at all?”

“No,” I admit.

“That’s fine. I’m staying with you tonight, or you and Hayes can come and stay with me.”

“All of his stuff is here, and we need to talk about that.”

“Get dressed,” he says, kissing me again before gathering his clothes from the bathroom floor and disappearing into my bedroom.

By the time I have the courage to step out of the bathroom, he’s gone. I quickly dress and find him in the living room with Hayes in his arms. He’s smiling down at our boy as if he’s the most precious thing in his world. It’s the same way he looked at me in the shower, with so much love in his blue eyes.

“There’s Mommy,” he tells our son. “Daddy told you she would be right here,” he coos down to our baby boy. When he lifts his head, I’m blinded by his smile. “I think he’s ready to eat, Mommy.”

I nod and turn toward the kitchen to make a bottle. It’s only been a couple of days, but I feel as though I have the bottle-making process down to a science. I’m back in the living room in no time. I move to sit on the couch and think better of it. Instead, I grab a receiving blanket and move to where Hudson sits in the recliner. He starts to stand, but my words stop him.

“No, you sit. I thought you might want to feed him.”

I watch as he swallows hard and opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, his eyes instantly fill with tears, and he nods.

“He needs to be burped often, and sometimes he spits up, so we need to place this over your shoulder. You can also use it to mop up his chin. He gets a little messy, even when he’s got this on,” I say, holding up a bib.

“I don’t know what to do, Riles.” There’s a little bit of panic and a little bit of awe in his voice. The vulnerability he’s showing tugs at my heart.

“I’m right here,” I assure him. I work quickly getting the bib around Hayes’s neck and hand him the bottle. “Just offer it to him. He knows what to do. Keep his head elevated a little and just let him do his thing. He’s going to be mad when you stop to burp him, and sometimes that can take a while, but it will come.”

Hudson places the nipple to our son’s lips, and just like I knew he would, he sucks greedily.

“Slow down, slugger.” Hudson smiles.

I watch him feed our son for the first time and think about all that I’ve learned today. Hudson didn’t get my letters. He didn’t know that Hayes was his. “What did you know? About Hayes and me?”