“Stop that!” I lightly slap their full hands away, giggling.
The opening scene begins, and we all hush up, focused on the TV screen in front of us. But shortly after, my gaze drifts to the little boy at my side and then to my two best friends.
How did I get so lucky to have these amazing people in my life? To have a bright son who loves life and laughs constantly. To have best friends who would do anything and everything for me at the drop of a hat. The only thing that could make this better is if my mom were here.
My thoughts continue to drift, finding Alec and my conversation with him earlier. How could he even have the audacity to talk to me after all these years? And on top of that, to do it like nothing had happened.
Why couldn’t he have just gotten all ugly and mean and left me the hell alone? But noooo. He has to be taller, stronger, sexier. And oh God, when I shoved him into the wall of the elevator, I could feel how firm and toned he was underneath. The devil in my mind told me to stop the elevator right there and get some pent-up anger out as he fucked me against the wall.
I can’t even stop the blush spreading on my cheeks from thinking about it.
I should hate and despise him for what he did, but I can’t get rid of the natural attraction we’ve always had for each other. And that will never change.
At some point, Jack falls asleep in my lap, like how most of our movie nights go. Once the credits stop rolling, Charlotte lifts the popcorn bowl off of Jack’s lap, so I can carry him to bed.
Josh immediately steps in to try to help, but I shake my head. I don’t know how many more nights I have left like this with him, so I am definitely not taking a single one for granted. He gets bigger every day.
Soon, he is going to be all independent and not want his mommy carrying him to bed.
Jack’s head suddenly moves, but he stays asleep. He just burrows further into my chest. My heart warms, and the backs of my eyes sting.
Nothing in my life compares to this, to my little Jack.
I lay him down in his bed and kiss his forehead. “I love you, little man. Good night.”
Studying him for a second longer, I commit every freckle and breath of air to memory before slowly closing the door behind me and heading to my room.
I flop back onto my bed, letting out the heavy sigh that’s been sitting in my chest.
I stare up at my ceiling, thoughtless. Scared that if I start thinking about anything, I won’t be able to stop.
Sleep is far away, and it won’t be visiting me naturally anytime soon. I roll over and grab the bottle off my nightstand—my cure for my restlessness, as a white envelope on my nightstand causes a memory to burst into my mind. The day Alec told me he put the first letter in my mailbox. That letter was just the beginning. Because we wrote each other back and forth every single week after that. We took turns dropping a letter off in each other’s mailbox.
We talked about our fears, our hopes, our dreams. Some of our letters were a page long, two pages, or even ten. Just because we wrote to each other constantly, we shared everything in person too. But the letters became tangible things we could hold, read, remember.
I almost wish the letter on my nightstand were from him, and not from a collections agency.
Desperately wanting to push the thoughts of Alec, and of my mom’s bill away, I pop two full pills into my mouth and bite the third in half, putting the other half back into the bottle.
I Googled how much melatonin was too much for an adult. And one article said thirty milligrams was dangerous. I stopped reading after that and just convinced myself that as long as I didn’t go over that, then I’d be good.
I set the bottle on the nightstand and continue to stare at my ceiling.
Eventually, the melatonin kicks in, finally dragging me under.
Char throws a ridiculously sized bag of chips into the cart, which is definitely not on the list. We continue to meander up and down the aisles until we cross every item off our list—with a few extra things.
We turn to head to the checkout and ram right into someone else’s cart.
The words come out automatically. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
A familiar deep laugh draws my eyes up. “You’re all good. I was hoping to run into you again actually. Although maybe not literally. But this will do.” Cam runs his hand along the side of the cart until he’s standing right next to me.
Reed is with him, who is about to pounce on Charlotte, oblivious of me being here. He’d better not hurt her. I would hate to leave Jack without a mother while I spent twenty years behind bars.
Cam clears his throat, pulling my attention back to him. “How are you, Laura?”
Well, my ex-boyfriend—the only boyfriend I’ve ever had—has just temporarily moved back to our hometown. He is pretending like nothing’s wrong and hasn’t even asked about Jack once. My mom is doing worse. Her vitals have been depleting.
