“Momma?”
Jagger stirs beneath the covers as I slide in beside him and pull him against me. He snuggles into me, his face beneath the curve of my neck like he’s done since he was a newborn, his hand resting on my heart, and his feet gently rubbing against mine like a cricket.
“I’m here, buddy,” I murmur before pressing a kiss to the top of his head and simply breathing him in. Strawberry shampoo and everything that is my little boy weaves into my soul, and I sigh.
His dark hair and light eyes. His olive complexion. His mischievous smile and belly giggles.
As I stood in the doorway watching him sleep, my heart felt like a balloon in my chest, expanding with more love for this perfect little human I created. That I’ve raised. And all of my mistakes—the ones that have robbed him of things every little boy deserves—made that balloon feel like it was going to burst.
I needed to hold him. To touch him. To pull him in tight. To try and erase the torrent of emotions coming at me one after another.
“I don’t feel yucky anymore,” he slurs in his sleep-drugged state. It feels like days since he threw up on my shoes and it was less than twenty-four hours ago.
“That’s good.” I lean back, brush his hair off his forehead, and can’t help but smile. His dark lashes and rosy cheeks get me every time.
“School?”
“Uh-uh. Not yet. Go back to sleep.” I hold him a little tighter and lightly stroke his back to help him get there. He has a few hours left before we start the morning routine. A routine that will be much easier no doubt since my mom, who is currently asleep on the couch, will be there to help with.
“You’re in my bed.”
“I just missed you is all.”
“Missed you too,” he says seconds before his breathing evens out again.
Sleep. That’s what I should be doing. That’s what I want to do considering I’ve been running on fumes and caffeine for the past few hours.
Me and my normal ten p.m. bedtime and Vince and his energizer bunny energy that never waned through the entire night and early morning as he shot take after take after take for the video.
And as he made demand after demand after demand of me. Always playful. Completely unnecessary since he had an assistant on set. But demands nonetheless under McMann’s careful eye to remind me that my only choice was to do what he asked or risk my job.
Prick.
Then why is there a soft smile on my face? Why did I find myself laughing at the jokes Vince was making with the crew while trying to stay mad at him for personal reasons? Why did I find that anger I was trying to hold on to solely to keep him at a distance, slowly dissolving?
Probably the same reason I need to hold Jagger right now. Because some things are just so natural that they’re hard to let go of.
I stifle my yawn, knowing I need to get to sleep. My late night doesn’t mean I get to skip work tomorrow.
And tomorrow brings more Vince.
I was naïve to think this day would never come. It was even more ridiculous to think if it did, that I could write it off and it wouldn’t matter.
How could I have thought that when my life has been labeled in three parts. With Vince. After Vince. And After After Vince. And no matter how much I tell myself I resent and dislike him with every part of my being after everything we’ve been through, he’s always been a part of my life.
Ever since that first day he walked into the tutoring session with a busted lip and a bad attitude my freshman year.
The memories hit. One after another. The good. The bad. The ugly. And the one incredible thing that I got from all of this despite the pain and the doubt and the hardship.
But then there’s the guilt, still there after all this time. Still making me wonder and question if I’ve done the right thing. Will Jagger hate the choices I’ve made for him?
Surely it’s better not to know your father than believing you’re unwanted. The question I’ve often asked myself is whether Vince still feels the same. That the last thing he’d ever want is to have someone carry on the Jennings name.
Do you have regrets? That’s a long time to harbor something if so.
Regrets? No. That night gave me the most important thing in my life.
But I’ve done this alone. Right, wrong, or indifferent, when he cut off every means of communication with me without knowing why I needed to get ahold of him, I made decisions that to this day, I’d make again if I had to.
When it came down to it, he shut me out and moved on with his life while my whole world shifted and then spun onto a different axis.
And regardless of his crooked smile and witty charm, I need to remember this.
I was the one who reached out. Who tried. Who was rejected.
I thought I’d made peace with my decisions and buried the hurt that came with it. Now I’m not so sure . . . about anything really.
Besides the shock of seeing Vince again, today brought so many unknowns to the surface. Unknowns that I need to figure out answers for. Unknowns that could turn my perfect, chaotic, carefully crafted world upside down.
Unknowns that once seemed so concrete and now seem extremely selfish when I never thought of them as being that before.
“Oh, Jagg,” I murmur into the darkness, pulling him even closer against me. “What am I supposed to do now?”
