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I nodded, too choked to speak because had he been Logan I knew he'd have shaken his son awake and made him walk upstairs to bed. Sawyer had planned a perfect week of activities for us, and everything we did together had felt natural and like we were family.
For a moment, I allowed myself to think about my ex-husband's plans for Colby leading up to the holiday—and how different they were than the efforts Sawyer had gone to—to entertain our son. Not once had Logan even suggested doing anything with Colby leading up to Christmas.
If Logan had suggested such an event, I would gladly have sucked up my feelings and gone along with them to make Colby happy. Not once had he thought of his son.
When I thought back on trips Logan had taken Colby on, they had usually been prompted by me and consisted of a trip to a Broadway theatre to see a show of Logan's choice, dinner in a snobbish and fancy restaurant, or an occasional evening at the movies.
Seeing my son's little arms slide around Sawyer's neck as he carried him up the stairs brought a lump to my throat and tears welled in my eyes. It was the first time I'd seen Colby show any man spontaneous affection since Logan had left. When I stopped to think about it, since his father had gone, Colby had barely allowed him to peck at his cheek goodbye.
Laying him gently on the bed, Sawyer slipped off his woolen hat and his shoes before mouthing to me about his clothing. Stepping forward I removed his coat, rolling him gently from side to side while signaling to Sawyer his jogging pants and sweatshirt were comfortable enough to allow him to sleep in.
Grabbing the comforter, Sawyer pulled it gently over his legs but let it rest at waist height. I knew this meant he had anticipated Colby still in his clothes might end up too hot during the night. This surprised me, since Sawyer didn't have children of his own.
As we stepped quietly back toward the door, Sawyer took my hand in his, still staring at my sleeping son and kissed the back of my hand. I glanced up adoringly, and heard Colby's little voice as it broke into the moment we were sharing.
"You'll be here when I get back?" he asked, warily.
"Me, buddy?" Sawyer asked instinctively. "You bet. I'm no Blaze, and no one's gonna put me in a coma and keep me away," he murmured back. Colby grinned sleepily and when Sawyer saw the shock on my face, he chuckled and cradled my cheek in the palm of his hand as he closed my son's bedroom door. "You wouldn't understand. It's a Power Ranger thing," he added with a wink.
It was the day before Christmas Eve and our last night together before the holiday. I was sad when Sawyer didn’t attempt to sleep with me, but I knew this was out of respect for the memory he'd given me that day with my son.
It was almost 11:30 p.m. by the time Sawyer left to spend the holiday with his family in the Hamptons. I was filled with regret as I watched him go and filled with nerves because I'd agreed to join him and meet his parents after Colby left for Florida with my ex-husband.
* * *
Christmas Eve was the first real mother and son day I had spent with Colby since the breakup. The previous year I'd been too depressed to make much of an effort. I knew this sounded like an awful thing to admit, but back then I wasn't in the best of places as I fought against depression in the wake of what had happened.
Thanks to Sawyer, this year was perfect. Colby and I spent the day making reindeer biscuits and a huge batch of his favorite chocolate mint candy. Afterward, we bundled up and strolled up the snow-filled road to the local park.
The winter scene added to the magic of the day as we stood listening to the harmony of an angelic sounding choir. The choir was accompanied by a uniformed school brass band, and I knew Colby was inspired when he turned to ask if I thought Sawyer would help him to try to learn the guitar.
As I stared down at my little boy's eyes shining bright in wonder, I had to admit we'd both come a long way since the dark depressing Christmas Eve of only the year before. I reflected on how our lives had changed for the better having Sawyer be a part of it all and my heart, once full of despair, was now filled with hope about facing our future.
* * *
Christmas morning is an exciting day on any child's calendar and Colby was no exception. He dragged me out of bed at 5:15 a.m. with eyes full of wonder as he danced and bounced with excitement.
When he reached our living room and the brightly lit Christmas tree stacked with colorfully wrapped Christmas gifts beneath it, he squealed with delight and fell to his knees on the floor. His eager little hands grabbed, lifted and shook every different shaped box and tried to guess what was inside.
I was impressed with how skilled a negotiator my son could be, as he bargained me up from my original concession of one gift before lunch to three.
Tearing eagerly at the wrapping paper, he untied the silk and satin ribbons and deemed the nametags attached as inconsequential in his quest to discover what Santa Claus had brought him. Unsurprisingly, his favorite gift from Santa was the ugly black Marvel action figure Sawyer had bought for him.
Colby played by the kitchen on the floor with his superhero toy while I prepared a small roasted turkey, herb-roasted potatoes, and a medley of seasonal winter vegetables for the oven. I was placing these inside and was about to set the oven timer when the doorbell rang.
Colby shot to his feet and looked out of the window. "Dad's here," he disclosed, looking puzzled because we'd been through all the explanations of what the plans were for the holiday period.
My heart sank to my stomach, because the last thing I needed was an argument with Colby's father in front of him, especially considering I had been looking forward to a quiet peaceful day with my son.
Interestingly, Colby didn't make for the door, and instead sat down once again on the floor and returned his attention to the toy he'd been playing with before. With a knot in my stomach, I headed over to our front door and answered it.
"Hey," Logan said, with an unsure glance, a soft smile on his handsome face. He smelled amazing; the scent was familiar to me as he still wore the same cologne I'd always bought for him. It stung my heart to feel the sudden pang of hurt that had been absent for the previous couple of weeks.
"Hi," I replied, glancing inside the house over my shoulder at Colby. Stepping outside, I pulled both sides of my cardigan around me to ward out the cold and drew the door closed. Folding my arms over my chest, I did this in part against the biting wind and part in defense against whatever curve ball Logan was likely to sling my way. "What are you doing here, Logan? What do you want?"
"To see my son on Christmas … and to see you too."
I scoffed. "I may believe the part about Colby, but you don't have to include me in your tactics anymore. We're divorced, remember?"
