Another pathetic laugh escapes me. “Basically.”
“And a very stubborn one.”
“Right again.”
“I assume it wasn’t you he was screwing last night?”
I sniff and wipe beneath my nose with the back of my hand. “Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.”
“Shit, Em.” He forces himself to his feet and pulls me into a hug.
And even though it feels weird, and we’ve never been particularly close, I accept it, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my head into his neck while soaking up every ounce of warmth and kindness like a dry sponge. I need it. I need it so badly.
“It’s fine,” I whisper against him. “I get it. I screwed up. I’m now a single mom with a very mom body. I know I can’t compete with those girls anymore, and he’ll never want me again––”
“Bullshit.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head against his warm chest. “It’s not bullshit––”
“Yes, it is.” His fingers dig into my shoulders as he pulls me away from him and looks me straight in the eye. “Trust me, Em. I might’ve been distracted during my shitstorm of a life over the past few months, but I’m not stupid. I remember when you guys broke up. I remember how much it messed with Milo’s head. He was hurting. Bad”
With a dry laugh, I point out, “He seemed right as rain last night––”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” I return. “I can’t deal with him right now. I need to focus on being a mom. I need to figure out how I’m going to work, and who’s going to hire me, and who’s going to watch her while I’m away, and––”
“Wait. You’re going to get a job?”
“I have to.”
“Have you talked to Milo about it?”
“He’s not my keeper, Jake.”
“You know what I mean. He’s not going to want you to work.”
“It doesn’t matter what he wants.”
“It kind of does,” he returns gently. “No offense, but you guys have a kid together. And when it comes to the little nugget and who she hangs out with every day, he has a say in the matter.”
“So, what? I’m supposed to stay locked up in his house until she turns eighteen? Gee. Sounds great. Thanks for the input, Jake.” I pat his chest roughly.
He snorts. “I didn’t mean it like you think, Em, er, Mads?”
“You can call me whatever you want. And if you didn’t mean it like it sounded, what did you mean?”
“I mean, you should try talking to Milo. Figure out a game plan. Whether it’s you getting a job and working your schedule around Milo’s and mine or––”
“Yours?”
With a shrug, he reaches for his coffee mug on the counter and takes a few gulps of blessed caffeine. “I used to watch my nephews and nieces every once in a while back home. It’s not like I can’t watch your baby too.”
“You have nieces and nephews?”
“Why’s it so surprising?”
“From what I gathered, being estranged from one’s family was kind of in the roommate agreement.”
He laughs. “Not for me. My family’s pretty awesome. I have two older siblings, Bree and Luke. Both are married with kids now.”
“And your parents?”
“Are awesome.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling in the corners before he turns melancholy. “I haven’t seen them in a while.”
“Seems like you miss them,” I murmur. “But if you guys are so close, what made you want to move away from them?”
“Honestly? I dunno,” he admits. “It’s not so much I wanted to move away from them. It’s more like Milo wanted to get away from where he grew up, and we always talked about rooming together after high school. With LAU having a good computer science program, it made sense.”
“It does make sense.” I reach for my cup of coffee and bring it to my lips, praying he can’t see right through me as I ask, “Has he, uh, has he seen his parents lately?”
Jake’s strong jaw tightens as he scratches it, his suspicion oozing from every pore. Like I flipped a switch or stumbled upon a minefield, and I have no idea how to backpedal out of it.
“How much do you know about Milo and his family?” he demands.
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I give him a one-shouldered shrug. “I know enough.”
With a solemn nod, Jake grabs the empty glass and heads to the sink, refilling it with water, sprinkling in the same magical strawberry powder, and giving it a good stir.
“Did anything new happen?” I prod. “Since last year?”
He stops stirring. “You know about what happened last year?”
“Who do you think bailed him out?” I whisper.
His eyes widen in surprise, and the spoon clatters into the sink. “He called you?”
“Yeah.”
“Interesting.” He lifts the fresh glass to his lips and takes a sip, still deep in his thoughts.
“Did Jos ever find out about it, though?” I ask, anxiety gnawing at my lower gut as my voice breaks the heavy silence surrounding us.
With furrowed brows, he looks over at me from above the rim of his cup. “Why would Jos’ve found out?”
“I dunno. I’m…curious. I thought he had a rule––”
“About staying squeaky clean under his mentorship at the tattoo shop, or Milo would be kicked out? Yeah, I know. But how did you know about it?”
My lips pull into a thin line, but I stay quiet.
“He really did trust you,” Jake notes, his voice quiet as he sets down his cup, “to tell you about his parents, Jos, and the possible repercussions of losing everything he’s been working for.”
“But he didn’t, right?” I prod, holding Jake’s gaze.
He shakes his head. “No, Mads. He didn’t. The only thing he’s lost that he actually cared about is you.”
9
Maddie
My eyelids are heavy, and my feet ache as I rock Peanut back and forth. She’s been bawling her eyes out since 4:30 in the afternoon, and it’s now after midnight. My back hurts. My head hurts. My eyes hurt. Everything hurts.
Because I’m still not enough.
I can’t even make my baby happy. I can’t figure out why she’s so sad. Shouldn’t there be some maternal instinct kicking in by now? Shouldn’t I know how to make her feel better?
What is wrong with me?
“Sh…,” I coo for what feels like the thousandth time while gently patting her back. My voice is raw with unshed tears, but I don’t know what else to do. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”
A soft knock reverberates from my closed bedroom door.
Shifting Peanut to one side, I wipe beneath my nose with the back of my hand and open the door, an apology on the tip of my tongue. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to keep her quiet, but––”
“Has she eaten?” Milo demands. He doesn’t look pissed. Just…tense. Like a coiled spring ready to trip any second. His hair is a rumpled mess, as if he’s been tossing and turning in bed for the last hour. But his eyes are what really get me. They’re not cold or indifferent. They’re concerned.