A Missed Opportunity

34

✧𝙽𝚘𝚊𝚑✧

I don't know what I was expecting when I drove far over the speed limit to get to the apartment building Kiara and Cameron live in. All I knew was that my son sounded like he was about to cry as he admitted he didn't know what he was supposed to do. He could hear his mom sniffling in her room, and he didn't know what he was supposed to do to help her stop.

I doubted she was hurt physically, but still sped over and sprinted up the three flights of stairs because of the possibility. It was small though. I asked him if she fell somewhere or hit her head maybe, he told me no.

He said Wyatt had been over though. It's really not hard to connect the dots in front of me.

I figured there'd probably be some tears in her eyes that she'd try to hide from me, but that's about it. I sure as hell wasn't expecting the last few threads of her restraint to snap right there at the door. I especially wasn't expecting it to break Cameron's too. But there wasn't much I could've done after they both broke other than to hold them while they let it all out.

At the very least, after the last few tears slipped down their now swollen cheeks, they seemed relieved. I'm sure it felt good to get it out. Had to have.

They were both hungry by the time they stopped crying, so I ordered them pizza. Meat lovers and extra cheesy. Couldn't get around that second pizza because they both wanted different things, and I felt like if I said no to one of them, the water works would start up all over again. So, I ended up on the phone ordering both.

That wasn't so bad, but what I quickly found out when the teenage pizza kid got here, that someone picked my phone up from the kitchen counter while I left to find my wallet off the coffee table in the living room, left there because Cam wanted to see the pictures I have in there once he was finished crying.

Cameron secretly ordered one of those cookie pizza things. A big ass one too. Extra chocolate chips, and an extra charge.

I couldn't bring myself to turn that one away when I glanced over my shoulder to see him sneakily peeking hopefully at me from around the corner. I knew he'd get a stomachache on the pizzas, and probably wouldn't be able to finish the big slice of cookie pizza he insisted on.

And I was right. Poor kid passed out right there, crisscross on the living room floor in front of his plate laying on the coffee table—Puddle of drool beside his open mouth pressed against the wood of the coffee table. He hardly got through four bites of that dessert he was so excited about.

I ended up carrying him to his bed, getting drool on my shoulder the whole way. Weirdly enough though, that made me smile. To be able to lift him into my arms and over my shoulder. To carry my sleeping son for the first time to bed because he overestimated himself. To struggle a little to lay him down slowly and without waking him up.

Then when I came back to beam at his mom about my first time carrying my son to bed after he's fallen asleep anywhere else but his bed...she too was asleep. On the couch with her head tossed back uncomfortably, tired from crying herself out today. So, guess what else I got to do.

She, surprisingly, didn't even stir when I maneuvered her up into my arms. I held her like I held our son, with her arms around my shoulders and her legs wrapped around my waist as best as I could direct her to with her fast asleep. I slid her into her own bed the same way I did Cameron, smoothly and without waking her up.