𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 [slow updates]

𝟒𝟖

CINDY

I barely slept last night after my phone call with Levin. Partially because of guilt, but mostly because Sawyer has a pair of lungs on him that would probably be a gem for some kid on an organ donation waiting list.

What the fuck am I saying?

To be fair, Gray's Anatomy has become my favorite thing to watch while breastfeeding the kid, so...

Anyway, Levin is supposed to be getting here by noon, and I'm scared he's going to ask me to go pick him up. I'm scared the part of me that's still annoyed is going to say no and react before the rational part of me realizes what's going on.

I've spent my morning eating left over tacos and making a list of must-haves and can't-stands for a house. And I bookmarked houses that were visually pleasing to me. I plan to show them to him later and hopefully validate that need to know we are moving in that direction. Because we are. Just not now.

God, I've never felt so bad about something like this before. It didn't just feel like I was shutting Levin down, but also myself. If anything, I wasn't checking him, I was checking me. Was I wrong to? I want all of that and so much more, but I can barely handle what's on my plate now. I needed a reality check.

I think Sawyer's picked up on my crappy mood because he's been fussy all morning. I called my mom for advice, but the best she could do was offer to take him off my hands for a few hours. But she has Eryn and I'd feel worse putting that on her.

So, I bounce him and feed him. I burp him and change him. I feed him and put him in his crib. He wakes us screaming and I change him again. I bounce him, feed him, burp him, change him—on repeat. Over and over again until it's time for me to get my shit together and shower so by the time Levin gets here I'm at least slightly presentable.

I sit Sawyer's in his little baby rocky-bouncy seat thing outside the shower so he can watch me. If he can't see me, he'll scream bloody murder.

And this shower is heaven on earth until he starts doing that thing where he cries so hard that he turns purple and I turn into a mess of make-it-stop.

❄︎❄︎❄︎

LEVIN

I kiss my mom on the cheek as I unbuckle my seatbelt. "Thank you for the ride," I say gratefully. 

I figured that after last night, Cindy probably wouldn't love to be alone with me in the car for an extended period of time before we talk about... everything. Again. So, I just asked Mom to come get me. Paying someone to drive me around or renting a car is such a waste of money, but spending time with my mom is free. It wouldn't be if she actually took the gas money I offered her, but she hates taking money from me.  And anyway, I know she hates when I'm gone.

She grabs me by the face and kisses me hard on the cheek. 

"You're so so welcome. I'm glad you asked, honey."

"Me too. I'll see you later, all right?"

"Say hi to Cindy for me."

"Yep."

I get down from the car, my heart slamming into my ribcage out of excitement, fear, love, joy, and even a smidge of anger. Anger toward myself because I'm so disappointed that I didn't ask Cindy to pick me up. Does the fact that I didn't make me a bad boyfriend? Does the fact that I wish I did make me a bad son? 

I shake out my hair and adjust my hoodie before lifting my fist to her front door, but flesh doesn't meet wood because the door swings right open before me. She's in my arms in seconds, squeezing me hard and changing the entire makeup of my body and my mind, and my soul, and ensense, and the entirety of my being.

She practically melts into me. So much so that I have to hold her up so she doesn't slip right out of my hug.

"Hello," I say softly, petting her hair.

She sniffles. "I'm sorry." 

I pull back first, taking her face in my hands. Is she insane? What does she have to be sorry for—welllll, the way she hung up on me yesterday was kind of fucked up, but she said it herself: she has a lot on her plate. She panicked. 

"Hey, hey, hey, no. Don't be sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

She shook her head, placing her hands over mine and leaning into my touch. 

"You should bring up whatever you want to. I should have just tried to communicate it better to you instead of bitching out, but... I'm sorry. I'm trying to better with that. I don't want us to fight."

A puff of laughter escapes me. "Cindy, that was hardly a fight, my love. My only complaint is the way you hung up on me."

"I won't do it anymore."

"Okay."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

She pulls me back in. Her arms snake around my waste and she presses her face into my chest and sniffs me, telling me how good I smell and how much she missed me.

I've never felt luckier.

Again, I pull away, making her glare at me. But she lights back up at my next words and I live for the love in her beautiful glittery eyes.

"Let me get a good look at you, beautiful." I hold her hand above her head, gesturing for her to do a little spin for me and she does. 

One of the straps of her sundress is slipping down her shoulder as she spins. Her skirt twirls along with her, the curve of her belly still visible. She's smiling from ear to ear. Her brown hair cascades down her back in loose curls and I can't help but touch it. So soft and so beautiful and so woman. So her.

"God... I have no words. You look incredible."

She rolls her eyes dismissively. "I'm wearing makeup."

"It's not that. You always look incredible, but—"

The sound of her phone ringing cuts me off. She pulls it out of a pocket I didn't know she even had. Since when do dresses have pockets?

She makes a face and shows me the caller ID: Tommy. "NOW he wants to call?" Cindy sighs loudly, obviously sick and tired of his shit, and gestures for me to come inside.

I step past her and am instantly in search of my son. She points to the nursery and just as I'm about to open the door, she goes:

"What?"

She sounds pissed and worried, and—wait, why is she packing up her stuff?

"What are you doing? Where you going? I just got here."

She rakes her finger through her hair anxiously, pressing the phone down to her shoulder. "Tommy got into an accident."

And as much as I don't really care for the guy, my heart squeezes because the little boy I love so much is part him and part Cindy.

And those two are my everything.