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Misconception (Coming Home)

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“He’s four weeks old, Hudson.” She laughs. “Give me a little time to recuperate.”

“Fine. How long do you need?” Leaning over, I press a kiss on her cheek.

“I don’t know. Just… time.” She shakes her head, but a smile plays on her lips.

“How about this?”

“Oh, boy, here we go.” She chuckles. It’s a sound that I will cherish for a lifetime.

“I have a solid plan. Just hear me out.” She nods. “This is what we’re going to do. You and I will get married, and then we can figure out the rest as we go.”

“Hudson,” she sighs. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Loving you means that I also know you. I know that you are an honorable man. I know that you’re asking me to marry you because it’s what you think is the right thing to do. We’ve been official for a hot minute. Let’s take this one day at a time.”

“No. I don’t want one day at a time. I would be asking you to marry me, even if we didn’t have a son together. I love you, Riley. I want you by my side always. Nothing is going to change that. Not time, not distance, nothing could ever make me not want to be married to you.”

“You are the love of my life.” Her palm rests against my cheek. “But the answer is still no.”

“Took you longer to turn me down that time.” I smirk. “I’m wearing you down, baby.”

“Go.” She pushes at my chest. “I need to shower.”

“Fine.” I kiss her once more before climbing off the bed and forcing myself to walk out of the room. It’s a difficult task knowing that she’s about to be naked and wet, and yeah, I force myself to go to Hayes’s room and grab a couple of outfits and diapers for the diaper bag. I never want to be in a situation where we run out of diapers. I shudder at the thought.

I can’t help but smile to myself. I have her ring at my place. It’s hidden in the small safe, and one day soon, I’m going to drop to one knee and ask her to be my wife. I know she wants to say yes. She just needs more time to let it sink in that with or without our son, the outcome would be the same. She’s going to be a Fleming.

In the living room, I glance over at the Pack ’n Play, where Hayes is still sleeping soundly. I’ve timed this perfectly. He’ll be ready to eat before we leave and will be happy and content while we’re gone. Well, that is if we can get him away from my mom. I smile at the thought. We’re about to make her day, and I admit it’s comforting knowing that family will be watching our boy. And if I know my mother, he’s going to be visiting both Mommy and Daddy at work during the day. Her watching him for us is a godsend, and it’s the perfect scenario for all of us. Mom gets her grandbaby fix, Dad too when he comes in for lunch, and Riles and I get to work and know that our child is safe and loved, and let’s not forget spoiled because I have no doubt my parents will spoil him rotten. I never thought much of my mom being a homemaker growing up, that’s just how it was, but now I’m grateful that she wants to, and is available to watch our son.

Grabbing the diaper bag, I add the outfits and extra diapers. I’m on my way to the kitchen to make a couple of bottles when I hear a car outside. Detouring to the front door, I see it’s the mail lady. I wave and, in my bare feet, walk out to the mailbox to grab her mail.

“Hey, you didn’t have to do that,” she says, standing next to the Pack ’n Play. She has a towel on her head and one wrapped around her body. “I had to check on him.” She smiles sheepishly.

“You don’t trust me?” I tease. I know she does. I also understand her need to check on him, just to lay eyes on him. I’m the same way.

“You know I do,” she says, meeting my lips for a kiss.

“You want this on the counter?” I hold up the mail.

“I’ll take it.” She pulls the stack from my hand and begins to sift through it. I head into the kitchen to start making bottles. I put them in the small lunchbox thing that matches the diaper bag with an ice pack and take it back to the living room. Riley is sitting on the couch, staring at an envelope in her hands. Her face is white.

“Riles? What’s wrong?” I toss the bag of bottles next to the diaper bag and kneel in front of her. “Baby, talk to me.”


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