JACKSON
UPTOWN, CHICAGO, PRESENT
Theo races up the stairs once we get to the apartment, and when we get to the third floor, I smell chicken that April must be cooking.
"Dinner!" Theo enthuses.
"I smell it, too," I say, chuckling a little. "Knock on the door. I don't have a key."
He knocks quickly and April appears in the doorway, apron on and flyaway hairs pulling from her ponytail. She smiles cordially at me and ruffles her son's hair, welcoming us both inside.
"Can Daddy stay?" Theo asks, setting his backpack on the bench in the entryway. "For dinner? Please, mama? Please?"
April chews her lower lip, looking between the two of us. I want to stay, but I don't want her to feel pressured if she doesn't want me here.
"I can go, if you don't-"
"No, daddy," Theo whines, holding onto my wrist with both hands and pulling. "Stay and eat dinner with us. I haven't even seen you for ten thousand two hundred and forty-two years."
April lets out a gust of laughter. "Stay, if you want," she says.
I look at her with hope on my face, I can feel it. "Yeah?" I say.
"Sure," she responds, turning to walk in the direction she came from.
My chest feels lighter hearing her say those words, so I follow them into the main part of the house. Theo is right on April's heels as she heads into the kitchen, bouncing from foot to foot while singing a song I can't quite hear.
"I had a asthma attack, mommy," Theo says, off-handedly, conversationally.
April spins around, hair flying. "What?" she says, voice rising.
I close my eyes slowly as my gut sinks. I wasn't planning on keeping that from her, but I hoped to break it in a gentler manner.
"I needed my inhaler," Theo says. "Daddy got it for me. Don't worry, mama. I'm okay. See, I'm standing right here and I'm okay!"
April hugs Theo tight and furrows her eyebrows, kissing the side of his head. When she opens her eyes, she looks straight into mine with a serious expression, but doesn't say anything.
Not yet.
She stands at the oven and lifts the lid on a pot, Theo sticking right by her side. "Are you sure you're okay, baby boy?" she asks, touching his hair while wearing an oven mitt.
I linger awkwardly in the entrance of the kitchen, not comfortable enough to make it all the way in.
"Mama, I feeled better right after I puffed. I swear."
"Take a big breath for me. The biggest one you can."
Theo puffs out his chest, holds it for a moment, then lets it out powerfully. "See? I'm okay," he says.
"Okay," she says, putting the lid back on what I think is mashed potatoes. "What were you doing? What brought this on?"
"Daddy teached me how to play football!" Theo says, looking back at me for validation.
I feel like I've done something wrong, though I know I haven't. All I was doing was trying to bond with my son by doing something I love, something we could find common ground on. I shouldn't feel guilty for spending time with him, I shouldn't be condemned for trying.
"You know how you get with sports and running, babe," April says.
Theo wraps his arms around her thigh and leans his head against her hip. While stirring, she keeps one hand on his shoulder for comfort.
"I know," he peeps. "I just wanted to try."
"It's okay," she says. "Your daddy should've known."
"I forgotted to tell him." Theo looks up at her, eyes wide. "He wasn't bad, mommy. Okay? He didn't do anything bad."
She rubs her thumb in circles on his shoulder, squeezing his body against hers. "Sure," she says. "Go set the table for me, okay? Dinner will be ready in a few."
She throws me a look while Theo gathers the plates and cups, and I want to say something to defend myself but can't think of the right words.
"I… we handled it," I say, then want to roll my eyes at myself.
That's not good enough. I sound like an idiot. She's never going to trust me with him, not fully. But at the same time, I shouldn't have to prove myself time and time again. I'm new at this whole fatherhood thing.
"I didn't know, April," I say, sitting down at the table. "I would've planned something else for us to do had I remembered about his asthma."
"It's something you have to keep in mind," she says. "Always."
"Well, I know now," I say, trying to catch her eyes across the way, but she refuses to look up. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let it happen."
"Thank you," she says.
There's a quick pause before Theo speaks and stops us from any further bickering. "Can I say the prayer, mommy?" he asks.
She nods, and he clasps his hands at his forehead, bowing his head. "Dear God," he says, voice strong and sure. "Thank you for bringing Daddy back to Chicago safe and sound. Thank you for helping Mommy cook a yummy dinner and for giving me zero nothing for homework tonight. Thank you for helping my lungs open up earlier and making my asthma attack go away. And most of all, thank you for my whole life. Amen."
April smiles at our boy, and the smile lingers on her face when she catches my eyes. I don't know if she meant for it to, but I like seeing it.
APRIL
It wasn't my plan for Jackson to stay for dinner. I expected him to drop Theo off and see himself back to the hotel, but after Theo begged him not to leave, I couldn't say no. They'd had such a good afternoon together, I wanted Theo to be able to hold onto that happiness.
I can't help but feel a chip on my shoulder after I discover that Theo had an asthma attack while under Jackson's care. I know how to avoid them, and Theo does too while we're together. But when he's with Jackson, he's excitable and his health isn't on the forefront of his mind. I don't let my mind wander to what might've happened in the worst-case scenario, because he's fine. He's in one piece, right here in front of me, asking me a favor with big, round eyes.
"Can Daddy put me to bed tonight, too, mama?" he asks, dressed in PJs after his bath.
I exhale softly, biting my top lip while looking at Jackson. I'm not necessarily angry with him - I don't know how to feel. Everything about this situation is so confusing, and I'm reluctant to let myself feel anything. I'm afraid it'll only hurt me in the long run.
"Sure," I say. "Come on, let's get you in bed."
Jackson follows Theo to his room and I bring up the rear. He jumps in bed and pats the mattress so Jackson will sit down, too, and he does.
"Mama, you sit next to Daddy," Theo says. "Can we read a book? Can Daddy read a book to me?"
I look at Jackson, prompting him with my eyes. "I think I remember how," he jokes, and our son giggles.
I watch Jackson's features as he reads. His eyebrows are animated with the words and his lips move fluidly as he speaks. Theo listens, enraptured, until his eyelids grow heavy. He falls asleep just before Jackson reaches the last page.
As we stand up from the bed, though, he wakes up slightly. He reaches his arms out for me, something I'm not unused to, and I kneel for a hug and a kiss.
"Mama," he whispers, being tugged under by the blanket of sleep.
"Yeah, honey?" I say.
"I really, really like it when you and Daddy are together," he says, arms looped around my neck. I can feel his sweet breath puff onto my cheeks. "And I promise promise, mama, we had fun and he didn't do my asthma on purpose."
"Okay," I say, voice hushed. "I believe you. It's time to go to sleep, little man. I love you."
I kiss his forehead and he settles into his pillow. I smile at his restful form as I linger by the doorway, and notice Jackson hovering in the hall as I flick Theo's light off.
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asks, matching my pace as I head towards the living room.
"I'm exhausted, Jackson," I say. "I am so, so tired, you don't understand. Not now, I-"
"April," he says, voice firm. "Please."
I sigh and massage my temples, closing my eyes as I stop in my tracks. "Jackson. I had a long day. Can you just call me tomorrow and we can talk then?"
"I'm not asking for a counseling session," he says. "I just need to talk about… things."
"It's not the best time," I say. "I don't wanna ruin tonight with whatever… whatever you're going to bring up."
"It has to be brought up sometime," he says. "We have to talk. That's how this has to work."
"I can't talk to you," I say, throwing my hands up. "I can barely look at you right now."
The venom in my voice not only surprises him, it surprises me, too. I hadn't thought I was angry, but now that we're alone, it's all surfacing. Everything I wasn't letting myself feel is simmering to the surface, much to Jackson's misfortune.
He visibly recoils, a troubled look in his eyes.
"You're being impossible," I say, eyebrows furrowing. "Sometimes, I think about giving the sex talk to Theo when he's 13. I'm already dreading it, but right now I'd prefer that rather than you standing here and pestering me to listen to you."
He scrunches up his forehead. "Why are you acting like this?" he asks. "Is this seriously just about Theo's asthma attack? I thought we'd already been through that."
Rage boils inside me as I wonder how he could be so dense. "Number one," I say. "It isn't just an asthma attack. An attack is something that's very detrimental to his health, and every one should scare you."
"You think I wasn't scared?" he says. "You think I didn't flip my shit? Of course I did. But I took care of it. Because he's my son."
"I know you took care of it," I say. "But it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Theo isn't a normal kid, he isn't the son who you dress up in your football gear and call him your mini-me while he runs around the field. He has severe asthma, Jackson. He can't play sports! You have to accept that."
"I do!" he says. "I do accept that. I accept him for everything he is. It slipped my mind, alright? I didn't know how bad it was."
I shake my head, unable to wrap my mind around how he can't see what I'm still upset over. "You didn't know," I say. "Just like Steph didn't know."
He narrows his eyes. "Steph?" he says. "Steph? April, why are we talking about Steph?"
I cross my arms tightly. "You spent that week with us playing family while you kept her on a warmer back in Seattle," I say.
"What?" he spits. "Where is this coming from?"
"You were lying to her the whole time you were here," I say. "And I knew it, that's the sad thing. I was wrong. I know that. I own up to it. I tried to call her, you know. She didn't answer, of course, but I left a message. A really long one, apologizing for playing a part in her heartbreak. Because that's really awful, what you did to her, Jackson."
"I know that," he says. "I know. You called her? Honestly?"
"It was the right thing to do," I say. "I needed to get that off my chest. I felt like it was my fault."
"It wasn't your fault," he says.
"But it was," I say. "We both got drunk and I kissed you."
"And I kissed you back," he says. "We both… it's not like it was a huge surprise."
"No," I say, easily remembering how his lips felt against mine. Soft and plush, familiar like coming home. "But she still didn't deserve that."
"No, she didn't," he agrees, and something settles in my chest.
I'm not done, though. There are still emotions wound tight in my body, begging to be set free. I'm not sure what's going to come out of my mouth before I speak, but I let myself go anyway.
"You miss that life," I say. "Being this… this sort of bachelor, throwing your money around, having people fall at your feet." I cringe as I imagine that lifestyle bestowed upon us in Chicago, the image of Theo in designer clothes instead of Target brand makes my skin crawl. "At least if you don't miss it now, you will. You… we don't live like you, Jackson. We just don't."
"I know that," he says. "I know you don't live like me, and I don't know why you're hung up on it. When have I ever asked you to change? I never have. Not once."
I open my mouth to refute him, but find myself unable to.
"And the reason I didn't tell Steph sooner is because I was just as confused as you were. I never expected to come to Chicago and find you. I came here to make some sick kids happy. And there you guys were. Dropped in my lap. My life got turned upside down, and you expect me to know how to react. I'm sorry I somehow had no idea."
His words sit heavy with me.
"You've been a parent for six years," he continues. "I've been one for about a month. I'm new, and I know I'm not that good. I know there's shit I don't think about and I need to. I know there'll be things I have no clue how to do. But… you have to get off my ass about it. Stop jumping down my throat every time I make a mistake, like today. I'm gonna make more, no question."
I watch him, mouth closed and eyes wide. He hasn't said something wrong yet, and I'm having my ass handed to me. I've never felt like this before, so put in my place.
I think he's the only one I'd ever let do that.
"I'm confused," he says. "And I'm scared. But I don't want Steph. I don't think I ever did. It's awful to say, but you and I both know she was a placeholder." He pauses. "I want my family. I want you to be my normal, not all that celebrity stuff back home." He looks around and extends his arms to either side of his body. "I want this. I want this drafty apartment with the creaky floors, and your green eyes staring at me."
I lick my lower lip as I think of how to respond, and tears well up in my eyes. Without my permission, they spill over and stream down my cheeks, and my shoulders cave in as I start to sob.
Through my tears, I look at his face and see his heart. He's nothing but genuine, and suddenly he's the boy I left years ago. At his core, he is exactly the same. I see Theo in his eyes, and realize I've always known why my son is so sweet and pure. It's all because of his father, his father whose love for me has never waned, never weakened, after all I've done to push him away. After all he's done to try and forget me, nothing has worked.
Something inside used to tell me we'd always find our way back to each other. But after a few years passed, I stopped believing it. I realize now I never should've.
"I'm scared," I admit, chewing the inside of my cheek as I continue to cry. "I'm really scared."
He crinkles his forehead, looking puzzled. "Of what?"
My lower lip trembles as I wring my hands. "Getting hurt," I say, and swallow hard. "I'm scared to let myself feel what I feel for you."
A weight is lifted from my shoulders - it's the first time I've said those words out loud. I haven't even thought them in linear terms before, so hearing them is both jarring and enlightening.
"I don't want to do something to hurt you again," I say, trembling now. "Or to hurt us. Or most of all, hurt him."
My eyes dart towards the hall, where Theo sleeps. My light, my world, my little boy. The piece of mine and Jackson's hearts we created. Our greatest accomplishment hangs in the precipice of what we decide to make of our love for each other.
I feel his hands on my upper arms, grounding me to earth as I continue to cry. "We'll figure it out," he says, voice even and calm. "April."
He tips my chin up with his thumb and I open my eyes to look directly into his. He's wearing a cautious little smile, gazing at me like he always used to.
"Nothing's felt quite right since you left," he says. "And now, here with you… things feel right again."
I lose my breath and my chest rattles. I reach and gently hold his face, stroking his cheekbones with my thumbs. I want to put all my faith in him, I want to give him everything.
I close my eyes and kiss him, tilting my head to one side and pressing my lips fervently to his. He kisses me back with passion, wrapping his arms around my back and making a small sound from his throat. For a moment, we get so lost in each other that we become one body, one soul.
"I'm so in love with you," I breathe, after we pull apart. "I'm so in love with you, and-and what we created. I don't want to ruin it."
He drags his thumb over my lower lip, then kisses me with it still between our mouths. "We won't," he says. "We can handle this."
"Are you sure?" I ask, vulnerable eyes staring into his.
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
UPTOWN, CHICAGO, ONE YEAR AGO
I kneel in front of Theo by the front door, straightening his clip-on tie. Tonight, we're going to the wedding of one of my closest friends, Addison, and he's jittering with excitement.
"I never goed to a wedding before," he says, sitting on the stairs while I tie his tiny, gleaming loafers.
"I know," I say. "Isn't it exciting?"
I'm wearing a knee-length peach dress with kitten heels, my hair curled and pulled half-back from my face. Not much makeup, but a little bit. Theo and I look very classy, if I do say so myself.
Once we get to the venue and are surrounded by people, I take my son's hand and he holds tight to mine for security. As he keeps close to my leg, we walk in and sign the guest book. He signs his name as best he can, in kindergarten scrawl that's way too big. But I smile after he's done anyway, proud that he's mine. I'm proud of everything he does.
For the ceremony, he sits on my lap while we watch Addison come down the aisle, looking royal. Theo's eyes are wide and wondering, taking in his surroundings, things he's never experienced before.
"So, now Addison and Jake are gonna love each other forever and ever?" Theo asks, sitting next to me during the reception. Someone found a few books to prop him up on, and he's eating the chicken I cut up for him.
"That's the plan, yeah," I say, smiling towards the head table. They look truly happy together, and I feel lucky to see it firsthand. I haven't had much faith in love over the past handful of years, but they're relighting something in me. That hopeless romantic part that I've been trying to keep buried.
Theo stabs a piece of chicken and chews on it thoughtfully. "Did you want to get married with my dad?" he asks.
My eyes dart away from the head table to center on my son. Sometimes, questions about his father will come out of the blue and catch me off-guard. During big events like this, Jackson usually always crosses Theo's mind. This isn't the first time he's asked about us getting married, either.
But this is the first time he's asked my opinion on it.
"If things were a little different between me and your dad, yes," I say. "I would have loved to marry him."
"And have a wedding and wear a pretty white dress?"
I smile. "Exactly. That would have been great."
My throat tightens, and I clear it to force the feeling away. I promised myself I'd always answer Theo's questions, but sometimes by asking them, he reopens a wound that's tried so hard to stay healed. Scabbed over, at the very least.
"I think he would be wanting to have a wedding with you, too, mama."
I smile sadly, one corner of my lips pulling up. "Yeah?" I say. "What makes you say that?"
He shrugs. "It's fun to dress up. And I think he would really like the white dress you picked out, 'cause you're the best at picking out clothes."
I lean to kiss his temple, holding there for an extra beat.
When the music starts, I take my son onto the dance floor and sway with him resting on my hip. I take one of his hands and he smiles at me, then lays his head on my shoulder. It's late, and he's getting sleepy. But still, we'll stay and enjoy this beautiful night.
"Do you wish you knew your daddy?" I ask Theo, broaching the topic I almost never bring up myself. I always wait for him to do it, but now it's on my mind. And with his soft, sleepy face looking back at me, I can't help but remember Jackson's. Jackson's, and how sweet he looked when he first woke up.
He'd always fall asleep while we did homework on his bed, papers strewn around him. His eyes would close and he'd find his way to my lap, resting his head there. I'd comb my fingers through his curls slowly, lulling him further, and keep still while he napped. When he woke up, I'd be finished with my work, and he'd turn over on his back to look up at my face. His eyes would be bleary, voice raspy, smile groggy as he puckered his lips for a kiss.
He was at his sweetest while with me, just like Theo is. I can easily say that's a trait they both share, a trait Theo must have inherited from him. So many of the ways they love me are the same.
Theo shrugs, looping his arms around my neck. "I don't know," he says.
I nod. He continues, though I hadn't expected him to.
"If you wanted me to know him, I want to," he says.
I crinkle my forehead as I lean my cheek against the top of his hair. "There's no wrong way to feel, little man," I say. "However you feel about him is totally okay."
"Okay," he whispers softly. "But I always love you best."
Later that night, after our big night is over, Theo falls asleep on my chest while we ride the train home. As I stroke his back, he transforms into a baby again in my mind, one I loved with everything I had, but who broke my heart daily.
At first, it was the hardest thing I'd ever done, raising him alone. I was still a baby myself, living on my own and caring for an infant. And to add on top of that, every new expression he made belonged to Jackson.
I couldn't ask for anyone's help, though many times I wanted to. But my pride and simultaneous selflessness prevented me from reaching out.
But during moments like the one I'm in right now, where my son sleeps peacefully on my body, depending completely on me, I can't help but think of Jackson and how much he would love Theo.
I can't help but picture us as a family, riding the train together, Theo asleep on me while I lean my head against Jackson's shoulder, his arm strong around me.
For just a minute, I let myself daydream. I wouldn't have to be hyper-vigilant all the time, acting as the constant protector. I could give some of that up, hand it over to Jackson, who I know would gladly take it. I could take a breath once in a while. I don't know what having a second pair of hands feels like, I've been raising Theo on my own for so long.
I hold him a little tighter, rescinding my daydream. He's perfect right now, and he's always been that way. If I changed anything about his past, his present would be different. And he's the best child I've ever known.
I press my lips to his temple and whisper, "I always love you best."
UPTOWN, CHICAGO, PRESENT
The feeling of Jackson's hands on me is one I've desperately missed.
We're both sober, both at full capacity, both completely aware of our actions. So, when he captures my waist and kisses me with so much passion it nearly knocks me off my feet, I know what comes next.
We make it to my bedroom, feet tripping as our lips fumble over each other, and close the door behind us.
"You wanna do this?" he breathes, pulling my shirt over my head.
I nod, hair mussed. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," I say, repeating his words from just moments ago.
He smiles slightly and kisses my neck, opening his mouth wide so his tongue can lave over the skin, slow and deliberate. He sucks on my pulse point, running one hand up my back to slip under the band of my bra, undoing the clasp with a flick of his wrist.
"See," he murmurs. "I can do it."
I laugh to myself and shake my head. "Still thinking about that?"
He pulls the bra down my arms, keeping it while I had expected him to toss it away. "Of course I am," he says, then holds it up. "This contraption was the death of me for like, the first year we were having sex. I could barely look you in the eyes knowing I couldn't work it."
"You're so dramatic," I say.
He takes either strap and looks at it. "A small package for such a big enemy."
"Are you calling me flat-chested?" I ask. "I'm a B-cup, you know."
He looks at me instead of my bra, flinging it to the side. "Whatever they are, they're perfect," he says, then walks me back towards the bed. When it hits the back of my knees, I sit and he strips off his shirt as I lie down and watch him crawl overtop of me.
He goes for my breasts right away, cupping one in his hand while kissing my neck. The kisses are messy and wet, and I close my eyes to relish the way his mouth feels on my skin. He massages my breast slowly and fluidly, moving his lips to my collarbone, my sternum, then lower to the breast his hand isn't covering.
He sucks the swell of the underside between his teeth, which makes my eyelashes flutter. With his mouth as wide as it'll go, he takes a big portion and pops away with a wet sound, going back for the nipple.
His eyes close while he runs his tongue over it, sucking and licking simultaneously, and I can't help but reach down and slip my hand inside the front of my yoga pants. His mouth feels amazing; I can't remember the last time my breasts were so stimulated, and I want nothing more than an orgasm right now.
I slip two fingers inside and widen my legs, pumping while he continues to work on my damp, shiny chest. I stroke the back of his head, dragging my fingertips through his curls, then feel him pull my wrist out of my pants and substitute it with his own hand.
His fingers are bigger and rougher than mine, and the sensation is appreciated. I toss my head to one side as he moves his mouth to the other breast, sucking hard while he rolls the wet nipple with his thumb and first finger.
"I'm almost there," I breathe, as his fingers quicken.
But in one quick moment, he removes his hand and leaves me lacking and throbbing for more. While making heavy eye contact, he slips those two fingers into his mouth and sucks on them while descending my body and pulling my pants and underwear off in one fell swoop.
When he yanks my thighs apart, I can't help but whimper. I throw my arms above my head while he keeps his hands on my inner thighs, pinning them down so I can't suffocate him, and finds my clit almost instantly.
"God, baby, that feels so good," I moan, moving to hold my breasts in my hands. They're still slick from the attention from his tongue, so it feels even better as I run my fingers over the nipples.
"You taste amazing," he says, punctuating his sentence with a kiss to my pelvic bone. When his tongue returns to my core, he moves his head back and forth quickly while keeping his tongue on my clit, and my eyebrows skyrocket to the ceiling.
"Just like that!" I hiss, trying to keep quiet as I'm acutely aware Theo is just down the hall.
Jackson moves his head faster, tightening his lips around the nerves, and I come with a drawn-out moan as my hips tremble and jerk against his working mouth. As my body goes weak, spent from the feeling, my knees drop and my pulse situates tight between my thighs.
"Do you remember the first time I did that?" he asks, kissing low on my belly.
I think back to our first time, how nervous he'd been to go down on me. "You got… a lot better," I pant.
"I still made you come, though, that first time," he says.
"You did," I say. "I remember that. On your tiny little bed in your mom's house."
He chuckles, nuzzling the peach fuzz around my bellybutton. "That was my-"
"Birthday," I finish, then smile. "I remember." I reach to frame his face with one hand, and he leans against my palm. "Of course I remember."
"I hope you don't remember how I was-"
"Digging around for my clit like you were hunting for buried treasure?" I giggle, hugging his shoulders with my knees. "I remember being like… what is he doing? What is he looking for?"
He hides his face, resting it against my ribcage. "I knew I was taking too long," he says. "But I'd seen, you know, in porn… or whatever…"
"You're such a perv," I say, playing with him. "Taking pointers from porn on how to have sex with your high school girlfriend."
"How else was I supposed to know?" he laughs, brushing a tendril of my hair out of my eyes. The light in his eyes fades from joking to something warm and soothing, and I can't stop staring. I want to get lost in the way he looks right now.
"What?" I say.
He shakes his head, toothy smile lessening to one much more subtle. "Just thinking about… I don't know. How much has changed, yet… nothing really has." He scoots up so we're at face-level with each other and kisses me, soft on the mouth. "You look the same as you did back then. Your smile, your eyes…" His hand trails down to my chest, thumb pressing against the middle where my heartbeat lies. "This freckle, this vein that made me absolutely crazy the first time I saw your boobs. Everything." He shakes his head. "Everything."
I kiss him, holding his cheeks while pulling myself as close as possible. "I love you," I say. "I never stopped."
When he pushes inside me, it's a reunion. It feels different than our wine-drunk night, or any time preceding when we were kids. This is different. Our bodies working as one is the result of two adults who love each other beyond all means, two adults who created another beautiful life, two adults who have overcome incredible adversity only to find their way back to each other.
While his body thrusts on top of mine, I hold him close and don't let any space come between us. Every inch of our skin is pressed together, my arms wrapped around his neck, legs around his thighs, as he buries himself within me and reclaims my body as his home.
He comes first, hot and intense as I hold him, pressing kisses to the curve of my jaw, then taking my earlobe and sucking on it while his hips continue to move out of time. While his fingers work on getting me there a second time, he sucks on my lower lip and I kiss him back as best I can while my orgasm shudders through me, forcing me to cling to him with everything I have.
We're sweating and breathing heavily once we both come down, and I push his curls away from his forehead and keep my hand there. He opens his eyes and smiles tiredly, pulling me close by the small of my back to kiss me.
"I missed you," I say, surprised when I feel like I might cry. He kisses me again, and I repeat myself. "I missed you so much."
"I'm here," he says, holding me tight and pressing his face into my neck. "I'm right here."
…
In the middle of the night, I wake up to Theo in my bed, right in the middle of Jackson and me. Luckily, we thought ahead a few hours prior and put pajamas on.
Theo is asleep, arms thrown above his head, dressed in a matching pair of rocketship pajamas. I can't help the smirk that grows on my face as I look at Jackson next to him, shirtless but in boxers, lying in the same position.
Both of their mouths are open, lips parted just slightly, faces free of any worry. They're breathing at almost the exact same slow rate, and if I watch closely I can see their heartbeats through their warm, bronze skin.
My heart explodes as I look at the two halves of my heart, sleeping peacefully in the sanctuary I've made.
I fall back to sleep myself, one arm thrown over Theo so my hand rests on Jackson's stomach, and can't remember a time I was this happy, a time where everything was so securely in its place.
When I wake up again, the boys are already up and talking quietly. I open my eyes and see Theo sitting on Jackson's stomach, giggling about something.
"You have dark boobies," he says, pointing a finger to each of Jackson's nipples. "See mine?" He lifts his shirt and I shake my head slightly. "They're light."
"I have darker skin than you," Jackson says. "Explains it."
"Because my skin is mixed with Mommy's white and your brown," Theo says. "So, I'm half and half!"
"Well, technically, you're one-fourth," Jackson says. "'Cause wanna know something? My dad was white, just like Mommy. So, I'm half and half, a lot like you."
"Whoa!" Theo says. "That's something we have the same. Just like our hair."
"You're right," Jackson says. "What else is the same about us?"
"I have freckles," Theo says. "But Mama does, too. So, I'm pretty sure I got that from her and not you. And I have my mommy's smile, that's what everybody says. Even strangers at the store."
"You know what you got of mine, though?" Jackson asks.
"What?"
"My eyes," he says. "And I want them back. Can I have them back?"
"No!" Theo giggles. "They're mine!"
"I want them back!" Jackson growls playfully, and tickles Theo's little waist. "You better hand them over, little mister."
I choose that moment to make my wakefulness known, laughing along with them.
"Oops, sorry," Jackson says. "Did we wake you up?"
I shake my head. "Nah," I say. "I was just listening."
"Mommy's awake!" Theo says, and dismounts Jackson to fold himself against my chest. He nestles his face into my neck and wraps one arm tight around my waist, and I give him a big hug.
"Morning, sweet sunshine," I say. "What do you think you're doing, finding your way into our bed in the middle of the night?"
Our bed. I realize that I called it 'our bed' instead of just mine. I'm not sure if either of them pick up on it, though.
"I had a bad dream," he says. "Then I came in here and saw Daddy and thought he was naked, but you had your cloud shirt on so it was okay. Then Daddy had pants on, so it was extra okay. Because it's okay for boys not to wear shirts, but not girls."
I giggle and run my hand over his curls. "A bad dream, huh?" I say.
"And also I wanted to lay with you and Daddy," he says, giggling. "I forgotted about what the bad dream even was."
Jackson catches my eye over Theo's head, and I reach over to cup his cheek. He takes my hand and kisses my palm slowly, then sets it on his face.
"Mommy," Theo says. "When me and Daddy had hot chocolate, he told me 'I love you.'"
Because Theo's face is hidden cozy in my neck, I look at Jackson when I answer. "Oh, yeah?" I say. "And what did you think of that?"
He pauses for a moment to think. "That I love him back," he says. "Because you said I could, a long time ago. Remember?"
"I do remember."
"Do you love him, too, mama?" he asks.
I haven't broken eye contact with Jackson yet. A small smile forms on my face when I say, "Yes, I do. Very much."