Page 67 of Don't Lie to Me

“He’s exhausted,” he said with a nod of his head in Logan’s direction.

“Did you have fun at the movie?” I asked, and rubbed my hands through Logan’s hair.

“I got to wear glasses and thought the monsters were going to eat me,” he said with a worried look.

“What movie did you take him to?”

Marcus shrugged. “It was just a kid’s movie in 3-D. And it wasn’t that bad. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Sure, until I’m the one up with him having nightmares during the night.”

“I could always stay over, just in case.” Marcus said with a small teasing of his lips. But his voice was smoother than it had been before, and a little bit deeper, and I had a feeling he wasn’t just concerned about Logan and his possible nightmares.

“And that’s my cue to take off,” Macy said with a cheeky smile thrown in Marcus’s direction. I frowned, but helped her pack up her wedding binder and walked her to the door.

“I’ll get Logan ready for bed,” Marcus said and held his hand while they walked to his room.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Macy said as she walked out the door.

I frowned. She could be referring to a dozen stupid things. I wondered which one she meant specifically.

“About school. Don’t let Jack be the reason you take off. Schools in Chicago are great, if not better, than your other options and you know it. I might have to kick your ass if you take off.”

I opened my mouth to respond but she skewered me with a glance. “Just think about it before you decide.”

I nodded and closed the door.

Logan and Marcus were laughing in his bedroom so I went in to see them huddled together in his full size bed. Marcus was laying on his side, one arm curled under Logan, his other hand holding Logan’s favorite Corduroy book.

“Crash went the lamp!” Logan said when they got to the page where the little bear knocked over the lamp in the department store. I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorway, watching Marcus read to our son and a feeling of warmth spread over me. I had dreamed of this scene for years, Marcus and I as a family, tucking our baby into bed.

Marcus’s blond hair fell almost to his eyes. I remembered how soft it used to be when I would run my fingers through it when we were together. It was a little bit shorter now, and styled more professionally, but his natural light blond highlights were the same. The edges of his eyes wrinkled a little bit as he smiled at Logan while reading the story. He was older now, and so much the man I remembered, but in a way, better looking. He looked peaceful, curled up reading his son a bedtime story.

I felt tears pricking at the edges of my eyes and backed out of the room before they saw me, but when I hit the living room, I picked up my camera and tip-toed back to the room. I wanted to remember this moment and I knew Marcus would, too.

I caught both of their attentions when they heard the camera click as I took the picture. Marcus set the book down on Logan’s lap and leaned in to give him a kiss on his cheek.

I smiled, happily, at the joy that flooded Logan’s face and the tears returned. I was right in the middle of living out the dreams that used to torment me at night after Marcus left, and in the first couple of years after Logan was born. The memories of those dreams and the real-life events occurring right before me scared the crap out of me.

Marcus said good night and walked to the door.

He lightly put a hand on my arm and my body warmed instantly. This was a softer touch than the friendly ones he’d given me, and his eyes were more serious when he gazed down into mine. “Logan wants a kiss good night from you,” he finally said and quietly left the room.

I watched him leave the room and when he was gone, I realized I was still frozen in the same spot. What in the heck just happened?

I shook off the funny feelings I felt when Marcus touched me and looked at me like that. It was just so familiar. Safe. And nothing at all like Jack.

I gave Logan his kiss good night, tucked him into bed by tucking the sheets of his bed down the length of his body and under his feet. It was our nightly ritual of tuck-tuck-tuck so he was as snug as a bug in a rug, and we giggled just like always.

I closed the door to his room, smiling at my perfect little boy. He was the best thing to happen to me in the world.

I froze again when I reached the living room. This time, there was no warmth in Marcus’s eyes. He stood in the middle of the room, his green eyes looking positively glacial and held up the brochures for the colleges Macy and I had spent most of the night talking about.

“What in the hell is this shit?” he spat out and smacked them down on the coffee table.

I ignored him and walked to the kitchen, knowing I had some explaining to do, but not knowing how to start.

“Want a drink?” I asked casually, but based on the anger that flickered across his face, only pissed him off more.

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