27
Kelcie
Shaw went back to his place, giving me time with Aaron.
How the hell did all this happen? I slid onto the sofa, and my head fell into my hands.
James probably suspected long ago that I felt more for Shaw than just friendship. And even though we were married, James had had to live with that, though I hadn’t realized it myself. Still, his acrimony toward Shaw had been one of the reasons Shaw and I had been estranged for so many years. James just couldn’t stand him, and I, in order to keep the peace, had let my best friend drift away.
I remember that time as if it was yesterday. James had called me on the day of the football draft. He’d said he’d spoken to his parents and changed his mind. Through their network of friends, his parents had helped him find a job, and he had a clear vision of his future. He’d said that future wouldn’t be complete without our baby and me. It was the first time he’d said, “Our baby.” At the same time, I’d been intimidated by the whirlwind surrounding Shaw and all the attention he was receiving. My father had been in my head, telling me I should be with the baby’s father, not with a man destined to be a major figure in a top professional football league. Dad convinced me James would be more stable, and I wouldn’t ruin Shaw’s bright future. I never understood why Shaw was willing to help me, support me, even agreeing to be my baby’s father. I couldn’t help feeling it was out of obligation. Maybe something he felt he owed to my father and me for our support over the years. I just couldn’t do that to him.
I figured if James and I were together, maybe we could make things work. We could be happy. And at first, when Aaron was born, James was the proud dad, showing off photos of him, talking about all the things they would do together as he got older. But that pride didn’t last long.
After twelve years of marriage, I knew James. And I knew he hated my friendship with Shaw and was very jealous of his success. So he got back at Shaw by pulling me out of Shaw’s life almost completely.
Crap. I saw the resentment and anger stirring in his eyes today with every glare he threw at both of us.
And now he was going to put things together…me in a man’s shirt and little else. Shaw was living next door and interfering with Aaron. Shaw’s willingness to go toe-to-toe today was the only thing that stopped him from laying into me, but I knew it was coming.
Then there was us—me and Shaw.
God, I barely had the courage to admit to myself that there was an us. Shaw was going to leave and go back to Charlotte, and I couldn’t follow. James had had a fit when I moved less than an hour north and settled with Aaron here. If I took him anywhere else…
“Mom,” Aaron said from the stairs.
I popped up but kept my back to him as I wiped away the tears I had just realized were forming. “Yeah, buddy.”
He was curled up, bent over his knees, and staring at his toes—something he used to do when he was younger. With a voice to match his body language, he mumbled, “I don’t want Shaw to leave.”
And my heart broke again.
I walked up the stairs and went on my knees in front of him. I sighed. “He will eventually. He has a team waiting for him.”
He shrugged. “I know.” Then he looked at me. “Was Shaw going to be my dad?”
Dammit.
“No, darling. You already had a father. Dad is your father. He always was and always will be.”
He tilted his head toward me, his brow furrowed in contemplation. “Could he be like another father?”
Crap.
“Well, he’s a good, dear friend to you—to both of us.”
He shrugged. “Okay. That will do…for now.” He stretched out his legs. “But if he’s my friend, you shouldn’t be fighting with him. You should go apologize.”
“I didn’t?—”
Aaron stood and looked down at me. “Mom, you hurt Shaw’s feelings. I bet he’s upset he’s not your husband, and I’m not his son. You shouldn’t make him feel worse.” He began walking back to his room. “Go see Shaw. I want to watch football this afternoon, and I don’t want him sad.” He stopped and turned as an afterthought. “Put on some pants first, and give him his shirt back.”
It took me a moment to register what he’d said. “What? I mean…”
“Mom, I know it’s Shaw’s shirt. I also know he ran out the back door earlier.”
Stunned, I said, “Um, okay.”
“Super hearing, remember? That and I’m super smart,” my son added and then continued to his room. “But Mom, go talk to him, because that wasn’t any way to treat someone you love.”
