Page 78 of Not How I Saw That Going

The door bursts open and he runs into my apartment like a knight in shining armor. He’s holding a box, but when he sees us, he drops it to the floor and tears through the mass of cardboard.

In my usual daydreams of my prince coming to save me, there aren’t five hundred scattered boxes littering the way, and he definitely doesn’t trip and fall into the mass.

Fairytale princes are overrated anyway.

“I should have warned you.” I cringe when he comes up from the clutter.

He shakes his head and treads slowly to me now.

“What’s going on?” he asks when he reaches me.

Crew burrows against my chest.

“Did he get hurt?” Ward asks. There’s genuine concern in his voice and his eyes as he looks over my son.

“Mommy got hurt,” Crew says and starts bawling again. My wrist doesn’t hurt as much as my heart does for my sensitive little boy.

Ward gently pats Crew’s arm. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’m going to take care of your mommy.” His words are so calm and soft, he has me believing he really can fix everything.

“Where did you get hurt, Lyn?” Ward asks.

I hold up my left wrist, and he takes it gently in his hands. He moves my fingers and I stifle another scream.

He grazes the back of my wrist with his thumb and a wail bubbles up my throat. Crew trembles on my lap.

“I think you broke it,” Ward says gently. “I need to get you to the doctor.”

Crew cries and clings to me. “Mommy doesn’t need to go to the doctor,” he insists.

“Hey Crew,” Ward gets down on Crew’s level. “When you get hurt, does Mommy fix you up with bandaids?”

Crew nods. “And kisses.”

Ward glances at me, and maybe the pain is messing with my head, but I swear his eyes land on my lips for a moment.

“You’re right.” Ward pats Crew’s leg. “Mommy needs lots of kisses and then she needs to have the doctor put a bandaid on it. Do you think you can give Mommy a kiss?”

Crew bobs his head against my chest, then gently kisses my wrist and both of my cheeks. Finally, he kisses my lips.

I look up at Ward and find an expression I’ve never seen before, on anyone. Is it want? Desire? Compassion?

As fast as it appeared it’s gone, replaced with an intense focus.

“Okay. Let’s get Mommy a bandaid,” Crew says and climbs off my lap but continues clinging to my leg after I stand.

“Everything is going to be okay, honey.” I take his left hand and he reaches for Ward with his other hand.

This, right here, absolutely shatters my heart. He should have had this all his life. Will I ever be able to give him everything he needs?

I flick off the oven as we pass. So long, mediocre muffins.

“Wait.” I stop walking, and so does my support group.

“What?” Ward looks over. “Is something wrong?”

I drop Crew’s hand and bend down for the pizza box Ward dropped on the ground. It’s still warm and I’m not about to perish with fresh food in my possession.

“Okay, now we can go.”