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Seeing Leo get to have those moments with my father too fills my heart to the brim.
I read the story just the way he likes—I handle the words and he gets to make all the noises.
“And after a long day on the job, Douggie the dump truck rumbles back to his garage.”
“RRRRRRR,” Leo roars.
“Then once he’s nice and cozy, he turns off his lights.” I pause and glance over at him.
“Click,” he whispers.
“Goodnight, Douggie. Sweet dreams.”
“Night, night, Douggie.”
I close the book and set it to the side.
Leo is curled in a ball with his bear firmly tucked against his chest. His eyes are heavy but still half open.
“One more book, peas.”
He asks so sweetly, I can’t possibly refuse.
“I think we can manage that, Little Bug,” I say, gently stroking his blonde curls.
The next book from his pile is a newer one, Mr. Worm and the Apple Farm.
I hate worms.
I sigh and flip to the first page.
At least it’s a cartoon worm. If I had to read the science book with all the photos and diagrams one more time, I think I would have lost my mind.
Thank goodness library books have a due date.
By the time Mr. Worm has taken a bite out of all the apples at the farm, Leo is fast asleep.
The ghost of a smile lingers at the corners of his mouth. His breaths are slow and even.
That is the sleep of someone who knows they’re safe.
Sometimes, I worry he’s missing out on not having his dad around, but quiet moments like these always reaffirm my decision to leave.
If I had kept my mouth shut, if I hadn’t started documenting everything, or if I had let him intimidate me out of pressing charges, Leo would never have known what peace was.
I’ve made so many mistakes in my life, but keeping him safe would never be one of them.
I pause at the door of his room for one last look at him, and my heart melts. He looks like a little cherub when he’s sleeping. If I didn’t have a hot bath waiting for me, I might have stayed there watching him all night.
“I love you, Little Bug. Sweet dreams,” I whisper before gently closing the door.
I hate to admit it, but there’s a bounce to my step as I head down the hall to my bedroom.
I love my son like a fish loves the ocean, but I also revel in the moments when no one needs a damn thing from me and I can just be Avery.
A quiet house with no one grabbing at my leg or sneaking off to use a houseplant instead of the kiddie potty I bought is pure bliss.
The only hands on me this evening are going to be mine. I'm long overdue for some me time, especially after the week I've had.
