As soon as the door clicks open, William turns his head, drops his little yellow scooter on the floor—luckily, my floor is carpeted so I don’t have to worry about dents—and flies into Adam’s arms.

I don’t know the exact moment when William started to run more than he walks, but it seems like he’s turning his nose up at just regular walking now. Instead, William runs, jumps, and sometimes even stands on one foot like a pink flamingo.

When he does walk, he does it backward for some reason. To make it more of a challenge, I guess. He’s already becoming more cocky by the day, just like his dad.

I’m glad I decided to let Adam stay in William’s life last year. He’s proven himself a good, reliable, generous, patient dad.

Adam shows up here almost every day, often with treats—healthy ones, of course—and toys.

William’s room now looks like a toy warehouse, with buckets of Lego bricks, Play-Doh, and even a miniature wooden treehouse with actual, swinging doors.

There were times when one toy led to another, like when Adam randomly got William some coloring pencils just because they caught his eyes and he’d read that it’s good for a three-year-old to get comfortable with handling stationery.

William ended up drawing deformed-looking animals on the walls of his bedroom. Aside from some paint supplies (I made Adam paint over the drawings on the wall), we also had to buy some coloring books and teach William how to use them.

I donated a bunch of William’s toys around the time I did my summer cleaning, but they’ve piled up again now, even though it’s only been a couple of months.

Sometimes, Adam’s mom drops by, too. She’s a sweetheart, and I love her sharp wit. I can see where Adam got his intelligent green eyes from.

Today, though, it’s just Adam. No treats; no toys; no Grandma. And still, William’s elated to see Adam.

He’s so happy he’s freaking out, actually. He’s grabbed onto Adam like a koala on a eucalyptus tree, and he’s squealing.

Adam laughs, just basking in William’s pure excitement. With his strong arms around William’s little body, I know my son’s perfectly safe.

Adam’s learned a lot about parenting now, to the point where I feel completely safe letting him watch William alone most of the time, like when I run out to get some errands done.

“Hey,” Adam says when our eyes meet.

“Hi.” I give him a smile and try to hide the fact that I was just staring at him for the longest time, probably with cheesy stars in my eyes.

“What are you watching?” Adam saunters into the living room where I’m sitting on the couch in front of the TV.

“Just, uh, folding the laundry.”

Yeah, I know. I lead an exciting life.

William’s perched on Adam’s arms, wrapping his little arms around Adam and touching Adam’s lush, dark hair.

I have to admit, I’m kind of jealous. Of my own kid. Because he’s too close to his dad. How screwed up is that?

“So, your birthday’s coming up,” Adam says as he paces around the room, carrying a giggling William.

“Who told you that?” I ask, glancing up from the tiny onesie in my hands.

“Uh . . . Sawyer? Or maybe I saw it on Facebook. I don’t know. Was it supposed to be a secret?” Adam teases, his eyes watching me intently as he smiles.

“No. Okay. Yeah. I mean, yeah, my birthday’s coming up.”

What am I getting all nervous for? He’s just mentioning a fact. Maybe he just remembers because he has good memory.

Still, I can’t help but think about all the selfish boyfriends I had in the past, many of whom didn’t even bother to send me a birthday text.

“Okay,” Adam says. “Now that the cat’s out of the bag, how about we celebrate it together?”

“What?” I ask blankly.

“Your birthday.” Adam chuckles. Shooting me an amused smile, he asks, “What is it with you today?”

“Nothing. And I don’t want to do anything for my birthday. It’s just another day.”

“Not acceptable,” Adam says, shaking his head. “I know you’ll have Friday and Saturday off. I’ll come here on Friday, and we’ll have a little party with William.”

“Par-teee!” William yells like a drunken frat boy who’s just inhaled some helium.

“That’s right.” Adam wiggles his eyebrows. “See? William thinks it’s a great idea. Don’t you, little man?”

“Par-teee!”

Adam and I share a look, then we laugh while we watch William go crazy with excitement, giggling like he’s just said the funniest thing in the world.

“So . . .?” Adam asks.

“Okay.” I sigh in defeat. I can’t say no and disappoint William now. What can I say? I guess the kid likes cake.

“And then, after the eagle—” Adam gestures at William “—lands in the nest, comes the after-party.”

I almost laugh at Adam’s attempt at speaking in codes, but my heart stops at the mention of an after-party.

What after-party? That sounds like trouble.

“No,” I say firmly. “After the eagle lands in the nest, the whole eagle family goes to sleep.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. Maybe some of the adult eagles like candle-lit dinners, or long walks on the beach.”

“No. Firstly, most eagles sleep at night. And secondly, birds don’t walk,” I say.

“Actually . . .”

“Okay, they do, a little bit, sometimes,” I admit. “But the point is, after the eagle lands in the nest, everybody’s staying in the nest. Except for the eagle who’s just visiting.”

Adam stares at me. “I don’t know what we’re talking about anymore.”

“Neither do I.” I laugh.

“We’ll party on Friday, okay? Leave everything to me,” Adam says. Before I can respond, he turns to William. “Party?”

“Par-teee!” William answers enthusiastically.

Adam grins at me. “Come on. There are some things I want to talk to you about.”

“Like what?” I ask suspiciously.

“Important things. You’ll see.” He winks.

“Important things concerning William?”

“Yeah,” he says unconvincingly.

“Really? About what?”

Adam pauses for a few seconds before finally saying, “College fund.”

“Really?” I give him a flat stare. William’s only three. I get planning ahead, but there’s no need to make it a whole thing.

“Really.” A lopsided smile plays on Adam’s lips. He knows there’s no way for me to find out, other than accepting his invitation.

“Okay.” I let out a deep sigh and try to focus on the laundry.

If I were being completely honest, I still have feelings for Adam—obviously; otherwise, I wouldn’t be wishing I were the one being carried around the living room right now.

But honesty, interestingly, isn’t the best policy. Not when you’re a mom.

Everyone thinks moms are pure, guileless angels, but I’ve lied more since becoming a parent than I ever did in my previous life.

I lie about not having any chocolates in the house. I lie about Santa Claus being the one who leaves presents under the Christmas tree. I lie about losing the noisy toy gun that made this loud, obnoxious pew-pew sound whenever William pulled the trigger (and he pulled the shit out of that trigger).

So why shouldn’t I lie about my feelings for Adam?

Things are going well now. There’s no need to change anything and risk ruining everything.

That’s why I’m concerned about the party and even more concerned about the after-party. We didn’t have any of those last year. Why change now?

Will I have to remember Adam’s birthday, too? Will I have to plan a celebration for him, as well? Is he going to keep doing this every year? What happens if I find a boyfriend, or he finds a girlfriend?

My heart clenches at the thought of sitting home alone in the dark next year, cake-less and Adam-less because Adam’s busy screwing his gorgeous, new girl.

I’ve been trying. God knows I’ve been trying. But I can’t help caring about the things I shouldn’t care about—like Adam.