Page 96 of Cross Check Daddies
I take a deep breath. “You’re going to be a big brother.”
His eyes widen. “Really?”
I nod.
“Like... a real one? With a baby?”
I laugh softly. “Yes!”
He gasps like it’s the best news he’s ever heard. “That’s so cool! Can I name him?”
“Absolutely not,” I tease. “You named your goldfish Batman and Taco. And the baby could be a girl.”
“Taco was a good name,” he argues, arms crossed, but he’s smiling now. “Where is the girl baby?”
I laugh at this. “I said the baby could be a girl. Or a boy. I just don’t know yet.”
“Where is the baby?” he repeats.
“In my belly. Still growing.”
He leans forward and places both palms carefully on my stomach, his face scrunched like he’s listening for something.
I blink fast. My throat tightens.
“You okay, Mommy?” he whispers.
I nod again. “Yeah. Just tired.”
He pulls back and nods solemnly. “Me too. I think I need a cartoon.”
I let him curl on the couch with Buddy, Ivy joining us moments later with a knowing look.
I’m still sitting there, shoes kicked off, head leaned back against the couch cushion, when the doorbell rings at seven.
It's Ace.
The second I see him standing there, clean shirt, tired eyes, hair damp like he just got out of the shower, I do the only thing that makes sense.
I throw my arms around him and press my face to his chest.
He doesn’t hesitate. Wraps me in his arms, his chin resting on top of my head like it belongs there.
“I heard about what happened,” he says into my hair. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t even know what okay means anymore,” I mutter.
“Can I come in?”
I nod, stepping aside.
He walks in like he knows the space. His eyes drift to the couch where Ivy is curled up under a blanket, rewatchingJurassic Parkfor the hundredth time, Jackson tucked against her side, practically asleep with a stuffed raptor clutched in his arms.
Ace keeps his voice low. “I won’t stay long. Just wanted to check on you.”
I know what he sees—messy bun, tired eyes. But he doesn’t look away.
“I told Jackson,” I say.
