Page 66 of One Little Mistake

“I’m ready.”

“You look good. Definitely on the mend,” Max says, then immediately looks away. He opens the door and lets me go first.

In the elevator mirror, I catch our reflection and realize that, yeah, we really do look like a couple. A beautiful one, to be honest. Our eyes meet, and, for a split second, we both freeze, staring at each other. The air between us charges with static, suddenly too heavy to breathe, and I don’t understand why I’m reacting like this. To him. A stranger. A man I barely know. A man who isn’t mine. I look away first, embarrassed, and focus on the floor indicator blinking through the numbers.

The ding of the elevator breaks the moment. We step out quickly as others step in. The cold wind hits me in the face the second we walk outside. I instinctively glance down at my sleeping son. He’s wrapped in a warm onesie, tucked under a thick blanket, but I still worry he’ll catch a chill.

Max lightly rests his hand against my lower back, guiding me toward the car. Tim and I take the backseat while he climbs in up front. He starts the engine and eases onto the road. It’s a slow drive—icy roads, almost no traffic. Soft music plays from the speakers, and Max taps the steering wheel in rhythm, quietly humming along.

The closer we get to the hospital, the more nervous I become. What if I’m still not fully recovered? What if they want to keep me longer, or worse, separate me from my son again? But my fears turn out to be unfounded. Everything’s fine. I’m getting stronger. The doctor even cancels one of my prescriptions.

On the way back, I feel lighter. I gaze out the window, soaking in the winter wonderland. Although, let’s be real, is it even winter anymore? Spring is just two days away. Time has flown, and I still haven’t fully wrapped my head around the fact that… I’m a mom now.

“You go ahead. I’ll get Tim.” Max turns to me.

I nod and pull the handle, stepping out into the cold. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with sharp, clean air. There’s a lightness in my chest and clarity in my mind—a kind of peace I hadn’t realized I was missing.

I crouch down and scoop up a handful of snow, hold it close to my face, and gently blow. Tiny flakes scatter into the air like glitter, catching the sunlight.

The car door slams shut. Max walks over to me.

“Beautiful, right? And the air!” I smile at him, eyes sparkling.

He smiles back. The rare kind—soft, almost… tender.

“Yeah… beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes not leaving my face.

“Do I have mascara smudged or something?” I ask, suddenly flustered, digging through my purse for a mirror.

“No. You’re fine. Except maybe…”

He steps closer. Close enough that I feel his breath against my skin. Tall. Really tall. He looks into my eyes. Leans in just slightly—and I stop breathing. What is he doing?

“You had an eyelash,” he says.

He lifts his hand and brushes my cheek with the pad of his thumb. I shiver. Our eyes lock. My lips part. I want to say something, anything, to break the tension, but someone beats me to it.

“Max? What’s going on? Who’s this girl? And… whose baby is that?”

We jump apart like teenagers caught making out behind the school. Both of us snap our heads toward the voice. Max frowns and exhales heavily.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” he asks tiredly, and my eyes go wide.

Oh no. His mother was the last thing we needed. Another round of awkward introductions and damage control coming right up.

“Not happy to see me?” she replies sharply, her eyes never leaving me.

The woman’s older but still striking. She stands in a long coat with a fur collar, high-heeled boots, twisting a pair of leather gloves between her fingers. Despite everything I’ve heard from Elena about her being kind and warm, there’s nothing welcoming in her expression.

I remember what Max’s ex-wife told her about me—and yeah, if I were her, I’d probably be less than thrilled at finding some random woman with a baby hovering around my son.

“So it’s true,” she says finally, shifting her gaze from me to Tim.

I try to spot any resemblance between them. But Max must’ve taken after his father, or maybe it’s just the beard covering most of his face, because I don’t see any shared features. His eye color’s different too. Elena, on the other hand, looks a lot like her.

“What exactly is true? That I’m helping out a single neighbor with a kid?” Max asks as he locks the car. “Roads are a mess today. Black ice everywhere. You took a cab or came by public transport?”

“Subway,” she says curtly.

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