“You’re here. And you love her. And that’s what matters. That’s what Rose needs.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask Willa what she needs, but I know she’s not quite ready for that conversation. And after the night I’ve had, I’m not either.
She props Rose up on her shoulder and rubs her back until our baby emits a small, gurgly little burp. “She should be good now,” Willa tells me on a yawn.
“It’s late. Why don’t you both stay here?” I ask, praying she’ll say yes.
She hesitates, then sighs. “Fine, but only because I don’t want to risk waking her up by taking her outside and buckling her into a cold car. I’ll get her settled in next door.”
I follow Willa into the nursery and flip the switch and a soft lamp lights the room. Willa places Rose in the crib and rubs her back for a few minutes. Our girl is out cold, so I’m guessing this is a nighttime ritual.
“Sweet dreams, Rosebud,” Willa whispers as we switch off the light and duck back into my room.
“Do you have some blankets?” she asks, as I rifle through my drawers.
“Yea, I think there are some extra ones downstairs. I’ll get that chunky knit one you like. You cold?”
“No, but... I figured I’d make a bed on the floor in the nursery.”
“Why? I have a king-sized bed. Just sleep here. It’s way comfier than the floor, and there’s so much room you won’t even know I’m here. You slept here the other night and it was no big deal.”
Willa looks at me skeptically. “I know, but that was a really emotional night. And I was exhausted, and…”
“And I’m pretty sure you’re exhausted now, too, right?”
“Yea, but—”
“If you want, I can sleep downstairs on the couch,” I offer. It's not what I want, but if it’s what Willa needs, it’s what I’ll do.
“No, that’s ridiculous. It’s your bed.” She takes a deep breath as if resigning herself to the fate of sleeping next to me. “It’ll be fine. We’ve slept together before. I mean, next to each other.”
“I don’t remember a lot of sleeping,” I smile, “but yea, there was probably some.”
“And we’re older now. Wiser.”
“There’s not a person on this planet who’d call me wise, baby, but I can keep my damn hands to myself if that’s what you’re asking. You want the bathroom first?”
“Sure,” she says, taking along the borrowed clothes I grabbed from my drawer and handed to her. The door ticks shut, and I strip down, remembering to toss my dirty clothes in the hamper, and pull on a fresh t-shirt and boxers. I plug my phone into the charger and toss my wallet on the nightstand. Before long, the bathroom door opens, and Willa walks back into my room.
Her long blonde hair hangs in waves around her shoulders. Her pretty face is devoid of makeup and her ample curves fill every inch of my t-shirt. God. Damn. I must be staring because she cocks her head in my direction. “Bathroom’s all yours,” she says.
Wordlessly, I walk into my en suite bathroom and shut the door behind me. Christ Almighty. It’d be bad manners to jerk off, right? Like, she’d know and that would be weird. I could take a shower and get the job done there, but again, it would look odd that I changed before hopping into the shower. Besides, there’s no way I could be quiet about it. So, I’m stuck in my bathroom, ten feet from the only woman I’ve ever loved, trying to take a piss with a hard-on.
Finally, I finish up, wash my hands, brush my teeth, and prepare to spend a long sleepless night in bed with the mother of my child. The lights are off, and Willa’s covered up to her chin, lying on her side, and looking cozy. If things had turned out differently—if my mother hadn’t fucked everything up, and if I weren’t a walking disaster, this could be my life. I could see us living here with my friends who’ve become family, spending our days at school, our evenings with our little girl, and our nights together.
I crawl in on my side of the bed and shoot my shot, lame though it is. Leaning forward, I press a kiss to Willa’s forehead. “Sleep tight,” I whisper.
“Same.” Willa’s voice is drowsy and part of me is glad she can get a good night’s sleep. I sure as hell won’t, but I’ll at least be able to feed Rose when she wakes up since there’s another pouch of milk in the fridge.
We lie together in silence for a while and my heart jolts when her hand brushes mine. “Can’t sleep?”
I hear the rustle of her hair against the pillowcase as she shakes her head. “No. I’m tired, but restless.”
“Same here,” I admit. “I have an idea.”
I feel her body go still next to mine. “What’s that?”
“Tell me a story.”
