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I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Oliver, but this is not working for me. I won’t be anyone’s dirty secret. I may not be the most knowledgeable person when it comes to what’s best for kids or relationships, but I know this is not right for Ayla or me.”

He reaches for me. “You’re not my dirty secret or hidden relationship. I just want?—”

I step back. “To cover all your bases.”

His head bobs up and down. “When you have a child, you can’t risk hurting them.”

My throat thickens, and there’s that familiar tingle in my nose. I’m going to cry soon, but I am not going to do it in front of him. I breathe slow and measured, channeling the way I have to speak to my mother, who doesn’t tolerate anyone else’s meltdowns.

“I understand that. But in relationships with other humans, there’s no possible way to cover all your bases. I understand these are your rules, but this is not fair to me. As much as I love Ayla and care for you, I’m not going to shortchange myself. I can’t keep making you a priority if all I am to you is a comfortable hidden option.”

There, you said it.

20

Oliver

This baby has been crying for the last two of the flight’s five hours and six minutes. Between his wailing, the plane engine noise, and his mother’s anxious fretting, my head has been pounding to no end. I can’t say I blame him. The woman has been making me nervous and fussy. I can’t blame her either. She’s a new mom with—from what she tells me—an asshole for a husband.

I was just trying to help when I start talking to her. I know what it’s like to get the pissed-off looks from everyone around you because your baby won’t stop crying. I’m so grateful Ayla and I are over a decade past that stage.

“Can you fucking believe he chose to go to work overtime while I’m here struggling with this baby on a flight?” She swatted at the tears on her face. “I have a stranger holding our baby—no offense—because he puked all over me, and I’m shaking so bad.”

She was so anxious that the flight attendant came by a few times. I took one look at the mom, and it took me back to my first flight with Ayla to Dominican Republic.

“Listen,” I said, touching her forearm lightly and in a way that couldn’t be misinterpreted. “He’s going to be more agitated because you are. Right now, the flight is uncomfortable for him. His ears popped, and you need to be relaxed so you can help him get through it.”

She blinked fast enough to send tears rolling down her cheeks. “But how? I feel like nothing I do calms him down.”

I extended my hands. “Let me hold him for a bit.”

Her hands flexed around the baby’s back, making him scream.

Good. She’s not so far gone she’s not protective of him.

I smile. “It’s okay. I’ll be right here, and you can watch me. I have a daughter, and when she was little, she wasn’t the best flier. She would rage and annoy everyone if I didn’t keep her calm and entertained.”

Her eyes narrowed on my face, and just then, the baby let out a big wail, and she practically shoved him at me. “Connor. You’re going to annoy everyone on the plane.”

I shift my gaze from her to the baby. “Connor? That’s your name?”

The baby stops crying to look up at me with wide eyes.

I take advantage of his surprise to get acquainted with him. “I’m Ollie.”

I extend a hand to his mother as well then proceed to hold the baby high against my shoulder and place timed pats on his bottom. He snuggles up.

“He likes you.”

“I think he likes that I bounce him.”

She laughs a little. It’s a croaky sound but better than the sniffling and tears from earlier. Still, she’s watching me like a hawk, just like I would if I was her. You should only let a stranger hold your baby in emergency situations or when you’re at a breaking point and not doing either of you any good.

“How old is your daughter now?”

“She’s thirteen.”

“Oh, wow. I can’t wait to get there.”