I’m stretched out on his bed, wrapped up in a cloud of white sheets and soft duvets. He’s caged me in, and I’m a willing captive. Those amazing green eyes of his bore into mine, and I ache for his kiss. Yet I’m speechless. I cannot speak, and I so desperately want to reach out to him.
I want him to touch me, kiss me, have his way with me.
He slides a hand down my arm. He peels me from the bed, but his pull is weak, strained. I’m too heavy for him.
I wake with a start.
Ethan’s big brown eyes stare at me, brows furrowed. For a split second, I see the man he will become, the spitting image of his father. He has that same expression Donovan used to have when he was annoyed.
I smile, but Ethan is still not impressed, still pulling at my arm.
“Wake up! Want crunch, Mommy.”
I laugh. He hasn’t been talking very long, but he certainly makes himself heard. I recently gave him a taste of my favorite cereal, Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I never eat it for breakfast. It’s a treat. I eat it for dessert, a small bowl after a meal to satisfy my sweet tooth. And I made the mistake of letting Ethan have some, and now it’s all he talks about. The kid is obsessed.
I glance at the clock on my nightstand. It’s not quite seven o’clock yet. My alarm is just about to go off. But seriously, who needs a clock when you have a two-year old?
I slip on my fuzzy socks and oversized sweater, and follow Ethan to the kitchen. I blush at the recollection of my naughty dream. Well… it wasn’t exactly naughty. Not yet. It could have been if I hadn’t been so rudely interrupted by Ethan.
I sigh as I pour him a small bowl of his Cinnamon Toast Crunch. As he eagerly digs into it, all thumbs, happy as can be, I get to work on a proper breakfast. He’ll also be having yogurt, cut-up apples and some scrambled eggs.
I’m on edge. He has no clue, but today is a big day for us. Mommy has a job interview.
It seems like ages ago when I last sat at a computer screen, surrounded by colleagues, heels tapping on the floor, hands dancing over a colorful mouse. I miss it.
I left my last job with a heavy heart, one week before Ethan’s arrival. I’d always planned to take advantage of my maternity leave, but I had originally planned to go back to work. But then life happened. Tragedy happened.
I could barely function as it was when my maternity leave was up, there was no way I could handle a job and a baby, all on my own. That hadn’t been the plan. Donovan was supposed to be by my side, my partner in crime. With him, I could handle it all. But without him, I could barely function.
As my hands busy themselves cooking up scrambled eggs, a sudden pang of guilt hits me. I’ve been dreaming of Donovan since the day he left us. But this morning, it hadn’t been Donovan looming over my naked body. It had been Mr. Dark & Mysterious.
Weston.
I remind myself that it was just a dream.
I check my watch as I hastily serve Ethan his breakfast and make myself a small plate. I force myself to eat the plate of food, despite the fact that I have no appetite. I’m too nervous to eat, but I know if I don’t, I won’t feel well, and I need to be at my best.
The interview is at nine o’clock. Thankfully, it’s only an elevator ride up so I just need two or three minutes to get there.
I really want this. It’s only a six-month contract, but it’s perfect. It’s the perfect way to get back out there after a two-and-a-half year absence.
I poke at my scrambled eggs. “So what do you think I should wear, Ethan?”
He giggles. “Dress.”
I laugh. The kid’s pretty smart. I love that we can finally interact. He’s becoming a little person, and every day he does something that amazes me. This moment is bittersweet. I’m going to miss him, yet this will be good for us. And it’s just for six months, and Ethan is already going to daycare part-time anyway.
Patricia (my mother-in-law) first suggested it. She thought he could benefit from having other kids his age and other adults around him, instead of being cooped up all day with a depressed mom.