It’s been a while since I had time to listen to an audiobook, especially while I vacuum the floor.

If William were around, I wouldn’t be doing this. I’d be too afraid I might miss it if he called out to me.

Noise levels notwithstanding, I haven’t been able to fit in much time for entertainment in general anyway, unless I count those mind-numbing hours I spend sitting in front of the TV with William, watching and re-watching Caillou.

I jump when something touches my shoulder.

Turning around with alarm, I see Sawyer holding a sleepy William.

“Hey, you guys are back,” I shout cheerfully over the sound of the vacuum cleaner.

I’m in a good mood after a productive—I check my watch—hour. I thought they were only going to be gone for half an hour.

But it doesn’t matter. I’m just happy to have done a bunch of chores. And now, I get to see William again. Maybe we should to this more often.

“I had no idea you were going to join them, Sawyer.” I smile as I pull off my earphones, but Sawyer maintains a grim facial expression.

“What’s wrong?” I turn off the vacuum.

“What’s wrong?” Sawyer repeats. “There was an accident; that’s what’s wrong.”

“What do you mean, accident?” I ask, my heart stopping as I drop the vacuum handle and the plastic tube on the floor. “Is William okay?”

My heart stops as I reach out to William and start inspecting his little body for injuries.

I check his limbs and lift up his shirt, my fingers shaking. I keep expecting to see a big, red, gaping gash somewhere hidden, somewhere Sawyer missed.

But after a thorough examination, there’s not a scratch on him, thankfully. Taking William from Sawyer, I hold my son against my body and kiss the top of his head.

“Just ask that guy.” Sawyer gestures at Adam, who’s walking down the hallway toward us. “I saw him cause an accident just because he wanted to pet a big, goofy Labrador.”

I stare at Sawyer incredulously, then flick my angry gaze to Adam. I let William down on the floor and tell Sawyer, “Take him to his room.”

As Sawyer and William leave, my whole body buzzes with adrenaline. Something bad almost happened to William—no, wait, it already happened. Sure, he’s okay, but he could’ve been seriously injured.

What was Adam thinking?

My heart hammers in chest as I shake with anger in the hallway. I recognize the signs; I’m in mama-bear mode. Adam almost hurt my little cub and now I want to scratch his eyes out.

It would be an understatement to say this is not a good time to talk to me, but Adam’s already walking toward me, not realizing I’m raring to go on the warpath right now.

I put my hands on my hips and glower at Adam. “What happened?”

“The road had a slope, and I didn’t see it at first. There was a dog sleeping on the road and I—”

“Jesus Christ,” I curse.

Adam gives me an alarmed look.

“I couldn’t believe it when Sawyer said you put William in danger to pet a dog, but was that really what happened?” I ask.

“No. I had to move the dog because he was asleep on the pavement. I wasn’t petting him.”

“Okay. You also mentioned a slope.” I raise an eyebrow. I already don’t like the sound of this.

“When I was trying to move the dog, the car started sliding backward. I tried to stop it, but it hit another car.”

I groan, my chest heating up with anger. “Really? After everything you said about being more careful around William? After what you promised me earlier today?”

“William’s not hurt,” he says urgently, as if it should absolve him from blame.

“So, you managed to minimize the damage from a problem you created yourself. Should I be congratulating you now?”

“I tried, Katie,” he says.

“How was it even possible for the car to slide backward? Didn’t you make sure it was properly parked?”

“I, uh, I checked on his car seat before stepping out. I thought I was just going to be a few seconds.”

I stare at him. I can’t believe this.

I’m trying to give him time to learn to be a dad for William, but what if that’s a mistake?

What if I’m putting William in danger because of that one decision? What if I’ve been letting too many things slide?

“Maybe you’re just not cut out for this,” I say in a small voice.

“What are you saying?” Adam asks softly.

“I’m saying it’s great that you’re trying, but it’s not good enough.” I pause. “Look, you took William out for half an hour, and you got him into a car accident. How long is it going to be until you leave him alone in a hot car, or roll up the car window on his neck?”

“Katie, I’m really sorry it happened. It was my fault,” he says. “But this isn’t quite the same as those freak accidents, is it?”

“It is the same.” In a louder voice, I repeat, “It is the same. You know why? Because those people didn’t mean any harm to those kids either. They were just accidents, just like the one you just caused today.

“You know how I know? Because I’ve seen victims of freak accidents. You think it’s not going to happen to you? Well, those people did, too—until it actually happened to them.”

Adam, to his credit, falls silent. When he finally speaks, he sounds remorseful. “I’m so sorry, Katie. You’re right.”

Normally, I’d give him another chance because he really does mean well. But maybe the reason he’s screwing up is because I keep letting him try and try again.

“I want you to leave,” I say, my voice small. But as soon as the words are out there, I realize it’s the right decision. It’s the right decision for William. So once again, I tell Adam, “I want you to leave.”

“I’m sorry, Katie. I’ll leave if you really want me to.” Adam gazes at me and pauses, as if he expects me to change my mind. When I say nothing, he sighs. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Adam.” I give him a serious look. “I mean . . . I don’t want you to come back.”

He’s stunned into silence. “You’re . . . You want me to leave and never come back again? Just because of an accident?”

“See, the way you say it’s ‘just’ an accident makes me think you’re not taking this seriously,” I say. “I can’t help but worry when I think about what kind of disaster’s going to happen next.”

“Look, just . . . I don’t know. Don’t leave me alone with William. I’m okay with that,” he bargains.

“I’m sorry, Adam. I know you mean well. You did the right thing, trying to forge a relationship with William.” I give voice to the doubts that have been quietly simmering inside me. “Let’s face it. You never thought William was going to be part of the package. When you asked Sawyer to find me, you had no idea I had William, too.”

Adam knits his dark eyebrows. Soft lines appear on his forehead. “If I told you I knew about William beforehand, that would be a lie. But I was happy when I found out about him. Are you kidding me? He’s the best thing in the world,” he says.

While I agree with Adam’s assessment of how William ranks on the list of everything in the world, I don’t know if I believe him.

If William were so important to him, he would’ve remembered. He would’ve paid more attention. He would’ve watched William like a hawk.

But he didn’t, did he?

Despite what Adam says, and no matter how much I want to believe him, there lies my answer.

“Adam,” I say through the lump in my throat. “I thought I could do this, but I can’t. You did the noble thing, and you tried to be there for William, but I think it’s time to admit to ourselves that it’s not working.”

“What do you mean it’s not working?” Adam stalks toward me and grabs me by the shoulders. “Katie, we just had a little accident. That’s all. It doesn’t have to turn into a whole thing.”

He doesn’t get it.

The more he tries to downplay the accident, the less I can trust him.

“I’m not spending time with William just so I can get to you.” Adam stares into my eyes with bewilderment, like he still can’t believe what’s happening. He asks, “If that was the case, why did I threaten to sue you for my right to see William?”

“Maybe you were just saying that so I’d let you hang around.” I shrug. “Or maybe you just felt like you were entitled to William. Or maybe you had this fantasy of what fatherhood would be like.”

“That’s what you really think?” Adam asks, squeezing my arms almost uncomfortably. “You don’t think I care about William?”

I consider his question.

I actually don’t know what I think.

I have to admit I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing. But I’m not sure letting Adam try again is the right thing either.

“I don’t know, Adam. The problem is, I need to know. I’m a mom. I don’t deal with uncertainties, especially when they can potentially hurt William.”

“So, I’m an uncertainty?” he asks.

“Something like that.”

“Can I keep seeing William?”

“Why don’t you ask your lawyer about that?” I ask. I’m getting tired of all his questions.

He lets go of my arms and takes a step back. He stares at me with pain in his green eyes. “Is that really how you want to do this?”

“I’ve been letting my emotions run the show for long enough,” I say firmly, despite the ambivalence in my heart. “It’s time for me to think logically.”

“And it’s logical to tell a guy with money to hire a bunch of lawyers to sue you?” he asks, speaking slowly like he’s concerned about my ability to understand him.

“Yes. It’s logical to keep my son safe from strangers,” I say, putting on a brave face. I don’t actually think Adam’s going to call my bluff.

“Stranger? Is that how you see me?” Adam asks in disbelief, his voice strained with pain.

I resist the urge to comfort him—since I became a mom, that’s been my go-to reaction to seeing people hurting. But it would be wrong to follow my motherly instinct now.

Adam’s just a boyfriend; not family. He may have fathered William, but that’s just a biological fact and nothing more. I need to remember that and stop giving him unlimited chances. Hell, he’s not even a boyfriend now—he’s an ex.

William comes first—always.

Still, there’s no need to say more things that could potentially hurt Adam.

“Please leave,” I say to Adam.

He studies me with his sharp, perceptive gaze, making me feel transparent. I look away.

“You don’t really want me to leave, and you don’t really think I’m a stranger,” he says. “It wouldn’t be so hard for you to tell me to fuck off if you did.”

“Leave before I say something I regret,” I say tersely. “I can ask Sawyer to remove you by force, but I hope that won’t be necessary.”

Adam’s face hardens. “There’s no need for that. Obviously, you’re too upset for us to have a calm conversation, so I’ll leave now, like you want me to. But Katie, this is not the end. I’ll show you I’m not an ‘uncertainty.’”

“There’s no need for that,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest like armor. “I’ve seen all I need to see. And I’ve seen enough now.”

Adam gazes at me, his eyes a curious mixture of frustration, incredulity, and affection. He shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe so. But you need to leave.”

Taking one last look at me, Adam lets out a deep sigh. “You’re stubborn, Katie.”

I remain quiet. I won’t argue with that.

“I just want you to know that I love you, and William, too,” Adam says. “And I hope one day, you’ll see that. I won’t stop until you see that.”

“Are you going to leave now?” I ask, holding my despair at bay. I honestly hoped Adam was going to be the partner I wanted, but that was just a fantasy.

Adam shoots me a sad look, but then he turns around and makes his way out, his footsteps tapping mournfully against the floor.

He reaches the door at the end of the hallway and pulls it open. As he steps outside, he twists to look at me, our eyes locking and lingering a few seconds too long.

Adam’s lips curves up into a small smile, although his eyes remain sad.

Then, with a soft click, the door closes. With an even softer purr of his car’s engine, he finally leaves.

Never to be seen again, possibly.

My heart clenches as I realize there’s no trace of Adam left. It’s like he was never here at all.

Then, before I can even begin to understand the conflicting emotions warring in my chest, tears fall from my eyes and wet my cheeks with heartbreak.