The front door opens and I hear my mother’s voice. There’s something off with the tone, something that has the hair on the back of my neck sticking up.

I put down the brush I’d been running through my hair. Hillary’s House today was insane and I was able to get a quick shower in before Mom brought Huxley home from school.

Walking into the hallway, I see them both standing in the foyer. My mom looks as white as a ghost.

“What? What’s wrong?” I ask, frozen in place.

“Some guy was taking my picture,” Hux declares, like it was no big deal. “Grandma went crazy, Mom. She—”

“What?” I shriek.

Mom takes off her coat and then shrugs it right back on again, physically shivering, even though it’s not that cold outside. “I got him off the bus like usual at my house. We started walking up the sidewalk—”

“And this man was in a van with a big camera,” Huxley cuts her off. I’m too nervous to even reprimand him for manners.

“What was he doing?” I ask, looking at Mom.

She just nods. “I called the police. The guy took off, but I got his license plate number and they pulled him over a few streets away. He’s being held downtown now.”

My heart clenches. The room starts spinning. “Oh my God.”

Hux’s arms are around my waist before I can think. I hold on to him for dear life.

My precious boy, the child that doesn’t deserve his privacy to be invaded because of my choices.

Guilt floods me, tears doing the same to my eyes. I feel like a piece of shit mother.

Every bad thing that could’ve happened today, every terrible thing that still could, sweeps through my mind all at once and I feel like I’m going to pass out. All I can do is hold on to Huxley.

“You wanna know something?” he asks, gazing up at me with his shining eyes.

“What’s that?”

“It was kind of cool,” he admits.

Shaking my head, I can’t help but laugh. “No, it’s not.”

“It kind of is. They wanted my picture. I feel like a rock star or something.”

“You’re too young to be a rock star,” I point out, trying to ease the fear that’s still crippling my heart. “Now go put your bag up and let me figure this out.”

He kisses his grandma’s cheek and goes into his room, shutting the door softly behind him. I look at my mother.

“Things like this are going to happen,” she says. “Barrett is too big of a catch not to think no one is going to pay attention.”

“I can’t go through this again, Mom. And not with Huxley.”

“There are tradeoffs to everything, sweetie. It’s up to you to decide what you can and can’t handle.”

Rubbing my forehead, I lean against the wall. “Think of all the things that could’ve happened. I don’t want his face on a magazine or his name in papers. But ... what if he tried to kidnap him, Mom?”

A tear trickles down my face at the thought.

“Every child has that risk, Alison. When your baby goes out the door, you run the risk of something tragic happening. It’s a part of life.”

“But does putting Huxley in the public eye make him more of a target?”

Her response is cut off by my phone ringing. I look down to see that it’s Barrett.

“I’m going to go,” Mom says. “I need to call the police station back. They’ll probably call you too and make sure he’s okay. I’ll be back in an hour or so to watch Huxley when you go to work.”

I nod and let her see herself out while I pick up the call. “Hey,” I say.

“Hey, baby,” he replies. The sound of his voice soothes me, makes my nerves ease just a bit. “How are you?”

I sigh and he picks up on my mood immediately.

“What’s wrong, Alison?”

“Mom just dropped Hux off. Apparently someone was taking his picture today.”

“What the fuck?” he booms. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah.”

His fury is palpable and knowing he’s as angry as I am makes me relieved in a weird way.

“Who was it? Did you call the police?”

“Mom did and the guy is at the station.”

“I’m going down there,” he bites out.

“No, you aren’t. Let them handle it.”

He groans through the line, but that’s the only sound for a long while. We both seem to be mulling over the situation—him trying to fix it, me trying to absorb it.

“I’ll make sure we make an example of him,” he breathes, anger laced with every word. “I’ll have his name and face ran through the mud every which way. Trust me.”

The tears flow again, the fear resurging. I let out a little whimper, and I can hear him on the other end responding.

“Don’t cry. I’m coming over there.”

The one thing I want more than anything is to be wrapped in his arms. But I need time to think about this, and if he comes over here, he’ll just convince me it’s all going to be fine ... and I need to know, by my own standards, that it will.

“I’m sure you have a million things to do,” I say instead.

“None of them are as important as this.”

My lip quivers. “I appreciate that. But I don’t want to make any bigger deal out of this than it already is,” I say truthfully. “And if you come over here like some kind of defender, ready to slay the dragon ...”

“Oh, I’ll slay the son of a bitch. That I promise you.”

“See?” I laugh. “That’s what I mean. Plus, I’m supposed to go to work at Luxor tonight. Don’t you have some event or something?”

“Fuck,” he hisses.

“See? Just take care of you, and I’ll take care of us.”

The pause makes me regret my choice of words.

“Barrett?”

He sighs into the line. “I hate that I’m not a part of ‘us,’ you know?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“No, it is. You look at me like I’m separate from you and your son, and that ... it pisses me off, Alison.”

“That’s not how I look at it,” I retort. “But, in reality, that is reality, Barrett. You have your thing you’re working on, and I have school and a job and a side job and a son. Yes, you are ... my boyfriend, for a lack of a more suitable word, but that doesn’t mean ...”

“What? That you don’t want me around?”

My shoulders slump as I fall onto the sofa, my head going into my hand. “I do want you around. But ... I just need to process this. My son’s photo was taken by some asshole a little bit ago. I need to make sure Huxley is okay. I need to figure out what’s going to happen.” I take a deep breath.

“I’ll send Troy over. He can be your—”

“I don’t want Troy here. I can take care of this.”

“Damn it, Alison. Let me help you!”

“You do help me. Look at you, ready to jump in and save the day. I love that about you, Barrett. But ...”

I try to push back the thoughts rippling through my mind. Taking a deep breath, I know I’m going to have to confront the reality that’s just smacked me in the face. Glancing at my watch, I realize I don’t have a lot of time before I have to either go to Luxor or call off, and I need to talk to Huxley.

“Barrett? I really need to go. I need to talk to Huxley, call the police station, and then decide if I’m going to work tonight or not.”

“Why do our lives feel so separate?” His voice is so lonely that it makes my heart hurt. “I want to take you with me tonight. I want to be able to see Huxley and make sure he’s okay too.”

“He will be. I’ll make sure of it,” I whisper. “I’ll tell him you asked about him.”

“I’ll call you later?”

The way he asks it instead of states it hurts.

“Yes. Please call me later.”

“Okay. Talk to you soon, baby.”

“Bye, Barrett.”