Page 42 of Accidental Vegas Vows

I had no idea what he was talking about. “If they have it at the store, yes.”

He squealed as he kicked his legs out, the tablet dropping onto the seat between us. “You are so cool. Can I get a horse?”

I snorted. “Like a real-life horse?”

He nodded ferociously.

“Uh, I don’t think they’ll have that at the store and I don’t really have the space for a horse at my house. But if you want a horse, Noah, we can look into getting you a horse. We’d just have to stable it outside the city,” I explained, but somewhere in my words he started losing his mind, the excitement riling him up.

“Oh my GOSH. A horse. A horse!” He giggled, flopping back dramatically as if the idea alone was enough to destroy him. “You’re the best. Mom never would have got me a horse.”

Oh.

That wasn’t what I wanted him thinking about at all.

“Noah,” I gulped. I wrapped my hand around his little arm, getting his attention fully from his racing mind thinking about everything I’d buy him. “Listen to me real quick, okay?”

Wide blue eyes met mine, still poised for the next exciting thing I would say. First real parenting moment. Shit.

“I don’t want you to compare me to your mother,” I said slowly, and the excitement drained from him. “Yes, I can buy you the things you want. And I’m sure your mom would have done the same for you if she could have.”

His head tilted to the side. “Why couldn’t she? You can.”

I should have considered that this conversation was a possibility if I started openly buying him things. I wanted to chalk it up to not having the time to play every potential situation in my head before his arrival — but I knew damn well that this was just my blind spots coming back to bite me in the ass. “Your mom didn’t have as much money as I do,” I said, hating the words. “And that isn’t because she didn’t want to. It’s not a bad thing to not be able to spend as much on you as I can.”

“I don’t get it,” he pouted. “If she needed more money and you have more money, why didn’t you give her some?”

We pulled into the parking lot of the first store I’d marked down for Harry — a children’s furniture store. I still needed to cancel the orders I’d placed online, but I’d get to it after this. “Because I didn’t know she needed it,” I sighed. “I didn’t know you existed. If I had, I would have given her anything she needed. For both of you.”

His little fingers went to work on the straps, unbuckling each one. Is he supposed to know how to do that? “Why didn’t you know?” he asked.

I pursed my lips. If I had an answer to that question, I probably wouldn’t have told him regardless. But I didn’t. I had no idea why Marissa never told me about him, especially when she knew he was mine. She knew what I would have done for them despite what she’d done to me.

She knew I would have helped them however I could. She must have known.

“I wish I knew, Noah.”

————

Noah sat curled up next to me on the sofa, his tablet on silent as he played some kind of game where you had to flip burgers and assemble them for customers. The front door and back double doors were wide open for the people who carried item after item through them, hauling giant boxes up the stairs and depositing them in the room Noah had chosen for himself. Last-minute-movers disassembled the plain guest bed that had once occupied the space, while others assembled the new bits of furniture we’d picked out together.

It was barely six in the evening, and I was exhausted.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, the one he was leaning against, and on instinct he moved to let me reach for it, his eyes still locked and loaded on his game.

Olivia: I can’t accept the money.

Olivia: I’m not cashing the check.

“Who’s that?” Noah asked, not breaking eye contact with the screen for a split second. The burger he made was at least twelve layers high.

“Olivia,” I sighed. “The one who took you for ice cream earlier.”

I typed out a reply. You don’t have to. Just keep it in case you need it.

“I like her,” he chirped.

“That’s great news,” I chuckled. “She’s moving in tomorrow.”

---