Wednesday
The rain came in sheets, drenching everything from one side of Boston to the other. Just hopping out of my car to run into my favorite Chinese takeout restaurant had left me soaked. Instead of leaving my Mercedes in the driveway as I often did, I parked in the garage, hopping out of my car still dripping with a bag full of food in my hand.
For a moment, a single, solitary moment, I stood next to my car. I looked out at my driveway, watching the grays and blues melt with each other as the droplets formed a wall of water between me and the slope of cement. It was calming despite the chill I felt. For a moment, I was me, not Hudson-the-dad or Hudson-the-doctor or Hudson-the-friend-with-benefits. Just me. Alone.
With a steaming bag of Chinese food.
Eventually, the cold began to seep into my bones, and I had to go inside. I entered through the garage door, taking Jamey and Sophie by surprise as they turned from their spot in the kitchen. “I come bearing egg rolls and chow mein,” I grinned, lifting the bag for them to see.
“Daddy!” Jamey shouted, nearly tripping over the mat by the sink as he rushed for me. “You’re late.”
I laughed as he slammed into my thigh, nearly knocking the food from my hand. Sophie gave me a half-hearted grin from across the room, her hands wet and a towel between them. Her black leggings had something colorful smeared across them, the cardigan she wore matching. “I’m sorry. There was a crash out near Columbus Avenue, the roads were all backed up. Didn’t mean to get home so late.”
“It’s okay,” she said, drying her hands quickly before crossing the space and plucking the bag of food from my hands. “I’ll get some out for Jamey and then head home.”
“Stay.” It came out before I could think about it, before I could consider the ramifications of asking her to stick around again. “I got enough for all of us.”
“Stay! Stay! Stay!” Jamey shouted, the grin on his face matching the sheer amount of excitement contained in his little body. He grabbed onto the side of her shirt, tugging it just a little for emphasis. “Please stay, Sophie. Pleeeeease.”
Her smile was tight, but she nodded. “Okay,” she chuckled, “I’m not one to pass up free food.”
I quickly set out napkins, eating utensils and placemats, then poured a glass of wine for Sophie not because I wanted her to get tipsy but because she deserved it for staying so late. I decided to pour one for myself as well. She and Jamey took their seats at the dining table as I brought the plates and food over, setting down our glasses of wine last and a cup of grape juice for Jamey so he wouldn’t get jealous.
The table fell silent as Sophie helped herself and I filled Jamey’s plate. I paid close attention to what she grabbed the most of, what she grabbed the least of, making little notes in my mind of what her favorites were and what I should order next time. Next time. Stop fucking thinking about next time, you idiot. Jamey filled the silence as we ate, talking around mouthfuls of chow mein about everything they had done during the day, from reading a book to playing with clay.
I knew why Sophie was quiet. I knew what she was worrying about, what was holding her on edge, but I couldn’t quell her worries with Jamey in the room. I could have texted her, sure, but I was selfish. I wanted her reaction for myself, in person.
As I stood in front of the sink rinsing dishes and placing them into the dishwasher, Sophie got Jamey set up in the living room with that stupid pig show that was quickly becoming his favorite. I waited until she appeared in the doorway, an exhausted look on her face and her keys in hand.
“Soph,” I said, craning my head to get a better view of her.
“This was really nice, but I’m exhausted and I haven’t done much work today.”
“I told my mom about the engagement.”
Her tired eyes widened as she looked at me, her bones frozen in place. She blinked a couple of times, the words sinking in, and then she moved toward me quickly, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind, and pressing her head against my spine. “Thank God.” The feel of her body against mine, in a nonsexual situation, made my chest ache in a way I tried to ignore. It felt far too nice.
I laughed, turning in her arms so I was facing her, but she didn’t budge. Instead, she pressed her face into the front of my damp scrubs. “She was… well, she was happy for me, unsurprisingly. But she was angry that I hadn’t said anything. I just went with what you’ve been saying to your parents.”
“She wasn’t suspicious?”
“She was a little since I’d mentioned you to her as the new nanny. But I explained it away.” I placed my hand on her back, rubbing little circles between her shoulder blades. “I know you’ve been worrying about that since last Friday. I’m sorry I hadn’t gotten the chance until now. I saw her on Monday when she watched Jamey but I couldn’t exactly say we were engaged in front of him,” I laughed.
“Engaged?”
My hand stilled as my gaze snapped toward the living room. Fuck. Jamey stood, his mouth dropped open, his little green eyes lit with so much disbelief that I hated how much of myself I saw in them.
Sophie pushed away from my chest, taking a little shard of ice from it with her. “Jamey—”
“What does that mean?” Jamey asked, taking a hesitant step toward us and erasing the instant anxiety I’d felt. Of course he wouldn’t know what that means. He’s four, for Christ’s sake.
Sophie looked at me, her brows knit and body rigid, unsure how to answer the question. I didn’t know how to either. On the one hand, I didn’t want to explain it to him, to confuse him and make him think Sophie and I were together. On the other, he’d probably be hearing it quite a lot in the coming weeks to months, and his questioning would only get worse. Better for us to explain it to him than someone else.
“It’s… a game we’re playing,” I explained, crossing the kitchen and dropping down to his height, my knees pressing against the hardwood floor. “Engaged means that two people are getting married. But in this case, Sophie and I are pretending—”
“You’re getting married?” He asked, the excitement only growing as I watched him begin to bounce on his feet.
“No, no, we’re pretending to—”
“Is Sophie going to be my mommy?” The words came out more as a screech than anything else, and I winced at how they bounced around in my eardrum.
I looked back at Sophie, and dammit, she looked flustered beyond belief. Neither of us knew how to handle the situation. “Jamey, listen to me,” I said, turning back to him and grabbing his little bouncing body in my hands. “Sophie and I aren’t getting married. We’re just playing a game. Other people, like your grandma and pops, are playing too. We’re all pretending like Sophie and I are going to get married, okay?”
Jamey wiggled from my grasp, ducking under my arms and making a beeline for Sophie. He slammed into her with too much force, nearly knocking her over as he wrapped his arms around her legs. “I always wanted a mommy. Can I call you that now?”
Sophie stared down at him, her hands shaking, and even from where I stood across the room I could see the tears welling in her eyes. God fucking dammit, this wasn’t going well, and now he was hitting her in the most vulnerable spot she had. Seeing her like that threw me into action and released a bout of adrenaline I didn’t even know I had. “Jamey, stop.” I lifted myself from the floor and pried him off of Sophie’s legs, heaving him up so I could sit him down on the counter. “You’ve misunderstood, bud. We’re not actually getting married, okay? We just… we need you to play along.”
He looked between me and Sophie with a blank expression on his face, literally nothing clicking in his head. “I don’t get it.”
————
“I don’t know where to go from here,” I sighed, clutching a half-empty glass of whiskey in my palm as I sat back down on the couch. Sophie sat on the other end, her knees to her chest, her eyes focused wholly on the wine in her hands. That little moment of relief had come crashing down, and now neither of us could relax even though Jamey was in bed, asleep.
“Me either,” she breathed. She’d hardly taken a sip, the glass in her hands still the one from dinner she’d barely touched. “I don’t want to confuse him.”
“He’s already confused.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and holding my glass between them. The irritation was already bubbling inside of me, the stress hitting me of having to deal with this miscommunication and how our fake engagement was seeming to affect every part of my life now. “I can’t do this, Sophie. I can’t get his hopes up and break his heart.”
“I know.” Her voice was small, too small, and she set her glass down before wrapping her arms around her knees. Her eyes were everywhere but on me. “I’m so sorry, Hudson. I don’t want to hurt him either.”
“I can’t be involved with you. We can’t do this anymore. All of this, every single part, it’s fake. It has to be fake. I’m not going to do that to him.”
The silence that fell was thick, heavy. I glanced at her, my grip nearly hard enough to crush the glass in my hand, and I swear for just a moment her lip quivered. “It’s fake,” she nodded, the words barely more than a whisper. She sniffled as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I don’t want this to get any worse. I just want a baby, Hudson, that’s it. Nothing else.”
I steeled my jaw as I forced myself to look away from her. I knew deep down, if I watched her cry, if I watched her suffer the guilt she obviously felt about confusing my son, I’d want to take that away. I’d want to fix it, to make her feel better, to tell her it was fine. But it couldn’t be fine. I had to put Jamey first, always. “I think the best way forward is to cut everything off.”
“What do you mean?”
“No more sex. No more sneaking around when he could stumble in on us. That day in my office was too close, your moans are too risky. We can’t keep doing that,” I said, already hating every word of it but knowing it was the right thing to do.
I could feel her eyes on me. It made my skin crawl, but not in a bad way. It was everything I wanted. “Yeah,” she breathed. “You’re right. We have to stop.”
“Are you okay with that?” Why are you asking? It shouldn’t matter. None of this should matter.
“Yeah. Like I said, I just want a baby. It’s fine.”
She moved, and I watched from the corner of my eye as she stood from the couch, smoothing out her cardigan where it fell around her hips. “Sophie—”
“It’s fine. Really.”
I looked up at her, hating the way it made me feel to see the hard line of her jaw, her lips straight, her eyes glassy. “You don’t have to go yet.”
She turned from me, getting up from the sofa and standing in place. When she spoke, she didn’t look at me, didn’t pause. “I think it’s best I go home now.”
I didn’t watch her as she gathered her things. I listened as I heard the familiar jingle of her keys, the little keychains she kept on it clanging together, and headed toward the door. The silence in the house was nearly deafening, but I could hear as she slid on her slippers, as she opened the door and went out into the rain, closing it softly behind her so she didn’t wake Jamey.
