“I think you should leave.”

That is the last thing that I said to him last night. When I wake up, however, he’s still in my bed, sleeping like a bear. I quietly tip toe out of bed, to find George sleeping in his crib. As soon as I walk toward him, he wakes up screaming, bloody-fucking-murder.

Lawrence springs out of bed, fully naked and ready to fight. “What’s wrong?!” he asks.

I ignore him and take George into my arms. “Nothing’s wrong,” I whisper. “George just woke up from his nap and he’s hungry.”

I shield myself from Lawrence’s peeping eyes before feeding George. It only takes a few seconds before George stops his crying. Lawrence has a smug look on his face.

“This isn’t a peep show,” I say.

“I’m just admiring you two,” he says.

“Well, stop. Anyway, you’re not really supposed to be here,” I say.

“And yet, I am,” he replies.

I walk out of the room, and he follows. I sit on the couch, confused by the events of last night. He sits down next to me and asks, “So, can we finally talk?”

Do I want him? Of course I fucking want him. His strength gives me a feeling I don’t want to let go of. His intensity and determination is one in a million. But at the end of the day, he’s still an arrogant asshole who can’t commit. So what am I really doing with him here?

“You can say whatever you want,” I tell him, “but it doesn’t mean you get to decide what happens.”

“I never planned on deciding for you. That’s for you and you only,” he says. Then, he turns to look at George. He’s cuddled up and bundled in my arms.

“But there’s something I need to do. I need to raise this kid as best I can. It won’t be like last time. I can change.”

“Isn’t that what all men say?” I ask. “Lawrence, I just don’t even know what to say. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since you showed up here and you’re begging for an answer. I never thought you were coming back. I thought you left everything in your life behind, so that’s what I planned for.”

“Jackie…” He looks frustrated. “Plans get interrupted sometimes.”

I actually laugh a little because his argument is absurd to me. “Yeah, plans. My whole life got interrupted, so yeah, I get it. I get it more than you ever will.”

His hands move toward my thigh. I scoot forward and let him touch me, even though it’s against my best interest. “I won’t leave this time. You have my word. I don’t exactly have any more chances in this life,” he says.

“You’re a sports player. That’s you. You should be trying to get the other stuff in your life together first,” I say.

His hands move up my thigh more. “Trust me. I’m working on it. This is more important.”

“I can’t think about this now,” I say. “Here. Can you just hold George right now? I need to decompress and make some coffee.”

I slowly give George over to him. George smiles. “Hey, baby George. Do you know who I am? I’m your papa.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” I say.

I walk toward the kitchen, but not without sneaking a look at both of them. The way he holds him nearly breaks me down. It’s precious. And despite all the bullshit that I’ve had to deal with, this moment is something memorable, and I know it.

I brew some coffee and sit back down next to him. I hand him a cup, but he doesn’t want to let go of Georgie.

“Can I just hold him for five more minutes?” he asks.

“I’m not complaining,” I say.

He kisses George’s hairless head. He has the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his face. Lawrence looks like a father right now. When we first met, he was just some hot stud at the gym. Back then, I would have never imagined him in this position. I guess I didn’t really expect to be here myself, but it’s different with him. I always knew I’d take to being a mother. Most men have complexes with kids.

“I’m impressed,” I say.

“With what?” he asks. He reluctantly hands me him back.

“It’s just that he really likes you,” I admit. He smiles bigger. “You’re getting cockier by the minute. I can tell.”

He laughs, but shakes his head. “No. I’m just happy. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt any kind of good.”

“Same,” I whisper.

He puts his arm around me. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. It does feel good when he’s here. Part of me wishes it didn’t, but it does. And George is obviously happy with him. Luckily, my son doesn’t know about our past. Maybe there’s still time to change things…

There’s a voice in my head that is telling me to just let things go. Sometimes, you don’t want to do that. It feels too wrong to forgive. But in the end, it takes some strength to move past things. There’s just one thing… am I strong enough to trust him?

I can move past the anger. The pain is always temporary. What is hard is learning how to take away the habit of doubting him. He’s strong, confident, and commanding, but there is the other side to him: reckless, selfish, and arrogant, with a lack of commitment.

“Look, I should leave,” he says, standing up. “I’ve already overstayed as it is. You can take whatever time you need, sweetheart. I’ll respect the outcome.”

I take his hand and feel the callouses on his palm, where he once gripped his hockey stick during every game.

“Wait. You don’t have to go,” I say. “I mean, you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”

“Seriously?” he asks.

I nod my head. “Yes. You deserve some time with George, even after everything. I know that when you left you didn’t know about any of this. The fact that you’re so enthusiastic about him earns you a day at the very least,” I say.

“It’s in your hands. If you want me to leave you alone in the future, I will. Just say the word,” he says.

But he doesn’t get it. That’s my biggest fear.

“Just stay,” I say. “Stay.”