Page 62 of One Little Mistake

“Yeah, I can see that. You’re barely standing.”

I glance at her pale face and shake my head.

“You really should get a nanny. Just for a month, until you get stronger. Honestly, good thing I intercepted you at the hospital. Imagine being alone with the baby right now in your condition.”

Her expression pales even more. Looks like I struck a nerve.

“What was I supposed to do?” she shrugs weakly and reaches for the baby formula.

I catch her wrist before she can grab the bottle—her hand is so small, I could probably wrap both of mine around it twice.

“Sit down,” I say, nodding at the chair, “or better yet, go check on the baby. I’m capable of reading the back of a formula box. Trust me.”

She doesn’t argue. Just gives me a look—some strange mix of defeat and confusion. I guess that says it all.

No matter how cold I might be toward women in general, Erin somehow gets to me. Maybe it’s because I know exactly how shefeels right now. I was a wreck, too, when Cynthia left me. But for women… betrayal cuts even deeper.

I boil the water, carefully read the instructions, shake the bottle until the formula is smooth, then head toward the bedroom.

When I get there, I find Erin lying in bed with the baby in her arms. The soft glow from the bedside lamp highlights the copper tones in her hair and doesn’t do much to hide how pale she is. She’s holding Tim close to her chest, quietly humming a lullaby.

I stop dead in the doorway, forgetting why I even came in here. For a moment, I imagine she’s my woman, holding my son in her arms. And just like that, something twists in my chest. A lump rises in my throat, and it suddenly becomes hard to breathe.

I’m not the sentimental type. But once, I used to dream about a real family. A loyal, loving wife. A couple of kids. Someone waiting for me back on land. Someone worth fighting for.

Maybe Elena was right when she told me I should at least try something serious. Something more than just a string of nights and a disappearing act the next morning.

I watch Erin feed her son, and somehow, I feel like a stranger in my own home. But more than that, I can’t wrap my head around how someone could just leave these two behind. No explanation. No support. Just lie—and disappear.

There’s nothing manly about that. And trust me, I’ve seen a lot over the years at sea.

The second officer on our ship has been married for seven years, and for three of them, he’s been keeping a side girl. Tells his wife he’s shipping out, but really he rents a place in another city and spends three weeks with his mistress before the crew even boards. Then, when he actually comes home, he lies again—says he’s still out working. Even has one of the guys send himphotos from ports along the way so his wife doesn’t suspect anything. She’s not stupid—tracks the ship’s location online.

And I just… don’t get it. If you’re done, if the spark is gone, if you’re into someone else—why keep pretending like everything’s fine? Why keep playing house?

Loyalty and trust—that’s the foundation. If you’re not ready to give that, if you still want to screw around, then don’t get married in the first place.

“Vivienne stopped by,” I say, breaking the silence. I grab a pillow and pull a blanket from the closet. “You were asleep, so I sent her home. She said she’ll come by again tomorrow.”

“Really? Thanks,” Erin replies, relaxing a little.

“Don’t think anyone’s mad at you for the mix-up with the name or the address,” I say as I head for the door. “At least I lucked out and ended up with an honest woman who only slightly redecorated my place—instead of walking off with my valuables.”

I throw the joke out casually, but as usual, she doesn’tt laugh. Just knits her brows like I said something offensive.

“Where are you going?” she calls after me.

“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight. Don’t want to disturb you and the baby.”

“But that couch is… really uncomfortable,” she says, unsure.

I don’t turn around. Just keep my eyes on the dark door ahead.

How the hell do I explain to her that the last thing I want when I lie beside her is to sleep? That the smell of her skin and hair hits me like a drug the moment the lights go out? That even looking pale and exhausted, she’s more attractive than any woman I’ve been with lately?

There’s something about Erin—something that pulls you in, makes you want to look closer. To know more. To touch. To taste.

Or maybe it’s just been too damn long since I had a woman in my bed. Maybe I should hit up Natalie sometime.

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