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I call my doctor in Ft. Lauderdale and speak with a nurse practitioner. After answering all their questions, she advises, “I would treat him for a cold or flu. However, If the rattle in his chest gets worse, you’ll need to get him to a doctor. He may have walking pneumonia and need antibiotics.”
I tell her thank you and disconnect the call.
I reach out and touch his forehead. It’s still hot and dry. “Okay, Baby. You rest here. I’ll be right back.”
I search the apartment for any type of cold and cough medicine. Right as I’m about to give up, I find a container with liquid medicine that I can give him for now.
After Connor is sleeping peacefully, I text Carson, letting him know that Connor is sick. Then, I give him a list of things to pick up on his way home.
While I wait for Carson to respond to my text, I wearily sit down on the bed, a worried frown on my face as I lovingly watch my son as he sleeps.
When my phone finally buzzes, I glance down at the text and read, ‘I’ll be home by five; let me know if you need anything else. Take care of our boy.’
I give a relieved smile. No matter how Carson feels about me, I know he loves Connor and will always be there for him.
I sigh as I reach out and gently brush Connor’s hair back from his warm forehead. It’s hard being a single parent, especially when things like this happen.
I carefully lay down on the bed beside Connor and watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest in a comforting rhythm. Despite the worry gnawing at me, a flicker of gratitude warms my heart.
I’m not alone in this.
Twenty-One
Carson
When I enter the apartment with a bag filled with the items from the list Anna sent me to pick up, silence greets me. I quietly place the bag on the counter and then make my way to Connor’s room.
The door stands open. A sliver of light from the hallway illuminates the room, revealing Connor nestled under the covers, his brow furrowed slightly. Anna lies beside him, one hand resting gently on his chest, her breathing soft and even. They are both sound asleep. I give a gentle smile at the touching sight that tugs at my heartstrings – they both look so vulnerable.
I quietly leave without waking them, closing the door softly behind me.
I rummage through the bag, finding the medicine Anna had requested. Years of bachelorhood have left me ill-equipped on how to care for a sick child. A strange mix of protectiveness and resentment stews within me. It feels good to be needed, to be doing something for Connor, yet the reminder of my absence from so many years of his life stings. I wasn’t the one to pick him up when he fell, to put a band-aid on a scraped knee. So, many years missed.
I glance around the kitchen; I’ve gotten used to dinner being ready when I get home. Knowing Anna won’t feel like cooking, I scroll through options. Finally, deciding which food delivery sounds the most tempting for them, I call it in.
Feeling satisfied that I’ve done what I can. I head to my bedroom to change out of my work clothes. Emerging later in jeans and a T-shirt, I go to the kitchen.
After years of capably living alone, I’m suddenly at a loss without Anna or Connor around. I frown at the mixed emotions coursing through me.
A sigh escapes me as I sit down at the kitchen counter. A pang of guilt goes through me as the image of Anna’s stricken face haunts me. My words were cruel, a knee-jerk reaction fueled by years of simmering resentment.
The real truth is— Anna means a lot to me. Just thinking about her sends a thrilling pulse through my heart. But friends? No, we’ve never been friends. My feelings for her are too volatile. They’re a mix of pure primal lust along with an undeniable attraction that I could never ignore.
I crave her body too much for me ever to try and disguise those feelings under the mantle of friendship. Being her friend would be an impossible act; I am too irresistibly drawn to her.
I grimace because instead of conveying that to her, I allowed her to think the worst. Shame burns in my throat, a bitter aftertaste to the harsh words that tumbled out. I squeeze my eyes shut, the memory of Anna’s wounded expression sending a fresh wave of remorse through me.
I run my hand through my hair in frustration. We’re locked in a stalemate. Even if I could find it in my heart to forgive her deception, the trust I once had in her is irrevocably gone.
I rub my face with the heels of my hands. It’s a no-win situation, a maze with no exit. I trust her with Connor, the most precious thing in my life, but entrusting her with my heart feels like I’m walking on eggshells. One false step and everything could shatter.
The buzz of my phone pulls me from my chaotic thoughts. It’s a text that our delivery has arrived. Not wanting to disturb their slumber, I step into the hall to wait for our food.
When I re-enter with dinner, the apartment door clicks shut behind me. I watch as Anna shuffles into the kitchen. She rubs the sleep from her eyes, yet they still show signs of stress.
“Dinner’s here,” I announce as I lift the bags onto the table. “I ordered Italian.”
She nods her thanks and then goes straight to the medicine I purchased. “Is Connor okay? What did the doctor say?” I ask with a concerned frown between my brows.
