Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
"Have I ever told you how proud I am of you?" I say, my voice soft but full of meaning.
He turns to me, his face lighting up with pure happiness. "No, what's proud?"
I cross the room, bending down on my haunches so I’m eye-level with him. I want him to really understand this, to feel it. "It means that you did something that makes me so happy. A kind of happy that you feel right here." I gently touch his small chest, my fingers resting where his heart beats steadily. "A kind of happy that warms up your heart."
He blinks, his brow furrowing as he tries to process my words. "I did something to make you happy like that?"
I laugh softly, touched by the innocence in his voice. "Yes, sweetheart. You cleared your dinner plate without me even having to ask. That makes me so proud of you."
His little face scrunches in thought, and then his next words break my heart a little. "Well, at Daddy’s place they get mad at me if I don’t clear my plate. But they don’t smile when I do."
The happiness in my chest dims for a moment, replaced with an ache I can’t quite describe. I pull him into a hug, his small body pressing against mine as I hold him close. I kiss the top of his head and rub his back, wanting him to feel the love and comfort in this moment, even if words can’t explain it all.
"Well, here, I’m always going to smile when you do things that make me proud. And it’s not just about clearing your plate, okay? It’s about being the sweet, thoughtful boy that you are." I pull back slightly, meeting his big, earnest eyes. "I love you so much, Nate. Always."
His arms wrap around my neck, hugging me tightly, and for a brief moment, everything feels right in the world.
"Now let's get you ready for bed," I say with a warm smile, gently brushing a lock of hair away from Nate's forehead. He nods, yawning, and together we go through our familiar bedtime routine. I help him into the bath, the water splashing lightly as he plays with his favorite toys, his laughter bubbling up in the small bathroom. Afterward, we brush his teeth, his little hands clumsily guiding the toothbrush while I help him.
"You're doing great," I say, and he grins through a mouthful of bubbles.
Once he's all clean and snug in his pajamas, I tuck him into bed with his favorite storybook. He insists on hearing the same tale every time he’s here, and I don’t mind. There's something comforting in the repetition, the way his eyes grow heavy with each familiar word. By the time I reach the final page, his breathing has deepened, his little chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. I gently kiss his forehead, smoothing the covers around him, my heart full of love.
I tiptoe out of his room, leaving the door cracked just enough to let a sliver of light from his nightlight seep into the hallway. As I make my way to the kitchen, the silence of the apartment feels heavier. I tidy up the dishes, wiping down the counters, but my mind is far away. I love having Nate here—his laughter, his energy. The apartment feels alive when he’s with me. I wish I could always have him here, full-time, where he belongs.
But then there's that ache again. The one that comes when he has to leave, when I hand him back to Christopher, wondering what kind of life he’s leading at his father’s house.
I’m lost in thought when a light knock at the door snaps me back to the present. My body tenses, a wave of unease rippling through me. My first thought, as always, is Christopher. What if he’s here, lurking outside my door? He wouldn’t hurt me with Nate in the apartment, would he?
My heart races as I move cautiously toward the door, standing just on the other side. My fingers hover over the handle, wishing desperately for a peephole. "Who’s there?" I call out, trying to keep my voice steady, though the nerves slip through.
"It’s Benedict." His familiar voice instantly washes away the tension.
Relief floods through me, and I quickly unlock the door, opening it wide. Benedict stands there, his presence a welcome sight, his expression calm but concerned.
"I just came to check on the two of you," he says, his voice soft as he steps inside.
I can’t help the small smile that spreads across my face. "Come in," I say, shutting the door behind him, my heart settling for the first time in what feels like hours.
He wraps me into a hug, his strong arms pulling me close, and my body nearly sags into him. It's like everything inside me, all the worry and tension, melts away the moment I’m pressed against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat, steady and sure, and it grounds me in a way I didn’t realize I needed.