Page 30 of Cluelessly Yours

Noah looks at me and then at Gavin, and I kind of wish I could melt into the floor. I’m not in a relationship with either of them, and yet…there’s an incredible amount of underlying tension in the air.

“Hello,” Gavin greets, holding out his hand toward Noah while keeping me tucked firmly into his body with the other. “I’m Gavin.”

I swear, Noah’s eyes stare at Gavin’s hand on my hip for a good five seconds before he eventually shakes his hand. “Dr. Philips.”

“And I’m Sammy,” I say, hoping to break up the rhythm of my pounding heart long enough to prevent an eventual upchuck. Both men have the good grace to at least chuckle.

My son’s headed into surgery for a severely broken arm, I’m already tapped out financially, and of the two men in the room with me right now, the one I tried to kiss is not, in fact, my date.

I hear what you’re saying universe, and it’s a bigfuck you.

But how about this? Since you decided to break my baby son’s arm and all…

Fuck you too.

Sitting in the waiting room while your child is in surgery has to be the most excruciating situation for a mother. The clock says I’ve only been sitting in this same uncomfortable hospital chair for an hour, but it might as well be days.

“You doing okay?”

I look up from where my hands are white-knuckling the scuffed-up wooden armrests of my seat and find Gavin’s eyes on me. He’s still here, sitting beside me in the waiting room. I didn’t ask him to, but for some reason, he stayed.

His forest-hazel eyes search mine, and I clear my throat, trying to push the ball of emotion out of the way so I can speak words.

“Yeah,” I lie. “Just hoping everything is going okay in there.”

“I’m sure everything is fine,” he says with all the confidence in the world. That statement feels a lot easier for someone who isn’t the mother of the five-year-old child who is currently in surgery.

He puts his arm around my shoulders and urges me closer to his side…just like he did when he first arrived to Noah and me only inches apart. Instantly, I feel some of the same tension I felt until Noah left to head into the OR.

Which, of course, makes me think about my baby boy all over again.

At least Noah is with him,my mind reminds me. Whether or not we almost kissed doesnotmatter, but his being in surgery with Grantdoes.

Avoidance! Party of one!

Good grief, what is wrong with me?

I lean my head back against the wall and let out a deep sigh. My baby, my Grant, is currently sedated and undergoing surgery, and I’m sitting here thinking about things that shouldn’t matter at all.

Truth be told, I really dropped the ball as a mom.

I should’ve been at home with my kids.

I should’ve been the one to be there when Grant got hurt.

I should’ve been the one at his side when he arrived in the ambulance.

And I sure as hell should’ve been the last face he saw before they wheeled his bed back to the ER.

Me. Not his nanny Zoe. Butme.

It’s bad enough that my boys’ dad is a fuckup and a no-show. Their mom is supposed to be stable. Reliable.There.

“You hungry?” Gavin asks and gently grips my shoulder. “Thirsty? I could go grab us some snacks and drinks from the cafeteria if you want.”

I shake my head. The only thing I want to do is see my kid.

And I definitely want to be the mom to him that I should’ve been today. Not busy with dates at expensive Italian restaurants with handsome businessmen.

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