Page 24 of One Little Mistake

Erin

The suitcases are still standing in the corner of the room.

Max said the roads haven’t been cleared, so he’s not driving me anywhere with the baby, and there’s no way he’ll let me take a cab.

Still, the very next morning, he reminded me about the doctor’s visit.

When he saw me wearing a light turtleneck, he made me change into a thicker sweater—even though I’d be wearing a warm coat, and it was just a few steps from the front door to the car.

I glance at myself in the mirror and suddenly realize I’ve been walking around this apartment like a pale ghost these past few days.

I never used to let myself go like this.

A woman next to a man should always look her best. I find my makeup bag, apply a bit of color, run a brush through my long, thick hair, fluffing the roots for volume.

A little lip gloss makes my lips look fuller, and a swipe of black liner brings out my eyes. I take out my jewelry box, choose a pair of gold earrings, and fasten them with practiced ease.

I give myself a critical once-over in the mirror. It’s strange seeing myself without the round cheeks and belly. Still far from perfect, but it’s a start. I take a deep breath and step out of the room.

Max is already by the door, holding Tim’s carrier. His brow arches in surprise the moment he sees me. His eyes trail down and then back up again—he’d only asked me to put on a warmer sweater, but in ten minutes, I’d transformed like I was heading to a date.

I act like I don’t notice. Pull a coat from the closet—the one that didn’t even come close to buttoning just weeks ago—and my hands tremble as I fasten the buttons under Max’s silent stare.

“I’m ready.”

“You look good. Definitely on the mend,” Max says, then immediately looks away. He opens the door and lets me go first.

In the elevator mirror, I catch our reflection and realize that, yeah, we really do look like a couple.

A beautiful one, to be honest. Our eyes meet, and, for a split second, we both freeze, staring at each other.

The air between us charges with static, suddenly too heavy to breathe, and I don’t understand why I’m reacting like this.

To him. A stranger. A man I barely know.

A man who isn’t mine. I look away first, embarrassed, and focus on the floor indicator blinking through the numbers.

The ding of the elevator breaks the moment. We step out quickly as others step in. The cold wind hits me in the face the second we walk outside. I instinctively glance down at my sleeping son. He’s wrapped in a warm onesie, tucked under a thick blanket, but I still worry he’ll catch a chill.

Max lightly rests his hand against my lower back, guiding me toward the car.

Tim and I take the backseat while he climbs in up front.

He starts the engine and eases onto the road.

It’s a slow drive—icy roads, almost no traffic.

Soft music plays from the speakers, and Max taps the steering wheel in rhythm, quietly humming along.

The closer we get to the hospital, the more nervous I become.

What if I’m still not fully recovered? What if they want to keep me longer, or worse, separate me from my son again?

But my fears turn out to be unfounded. Everything’s fine.

I’m getting stronger. The doctor even cancels one of my prescriptions.

On the way back, I feel lighter. I gaze out the window, soaking in the winter wonderland. Although, let’s be real, is it even winter anymore? Spring is just two days away. Time has flown, and I still haven’t fully wrapped my head around the fact that… I’m a mom now.

“You go ahead. I’ll get Tim.” Max turns to me.

I nod and pull the handle, stepping out into the cold. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with sharp, clean air. There’s a lightness in my chest and clarity in my mind—a kind of peace I hadn’t realized I was missing.

I crouch down and scoop up a handful of snow, hold it close to my face, and gently blow. Tiny flakes scatter into the air like glitter, catching the sunlight.

The car door slams shut. Max walks over to me.

“Beautiful, right? And the air!” I smile at him, eyes sparkling.

He smiles back. The rare kind—soft, almost… tender.

“Yeah… beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes not leaving my face.

“Do I have mascara smudged or something?” I ask, suddenly flustered, digging through my purse for a mirror.

“No. You’re fine. Except maybe…”

He steps closer. Close enough that I feel his breath against my skin. Tall. Really tall. He looks into my eyes. Leans in just slightly—and I stop breathing. What is he doing?

“You had an eyelash,” he says.

He lifts his hand and brushes my cheek with the pad of his thumb. I shiver. Our eyes lock. My lips part. I want to say something, anything, to break the tension, but someone beats me to it.

“Max? What’s going on? Who’s this girl? And… whose baby is that?”

We jump apart like teenagers caught making out behind the school. Both of us snap our heads toward the voice. Max frowns and exhales heavily.

“Mom? What are you doing here?” he asks tiredly, and my eyes go wide.

Oh no. His mother was the last thing we needed. Another round of awkward introductions and damage control coming right up.

“Not happy to see me?” she replies sharply, her eyes never leaving me.

The woman’s older but still striking. She stands in a long coat with a fur collar, high-heeled boots, twisting a pair of leather gloves between her fingers. Despite everything I’ve heard from Elena about her being kind and warm, there’s nothing welcoming in her expression.

I remember what Max’s ex-wife told her about me—and yeah, if I were her, I’d probably be less than thrilled at finding some random woman with a baby hovering around my son.

“So it’s true,” she says finally, shifting her gaze from me to Tim.

I try to spot any resemblance between them. But Max must’ve taken after his father, or maybe it’s just the beard covering most of his face, because I don’t see any shared features. His eye color’s different too. Elena, on the other hand, looks a lot like her.

“What exactly is true? That I’m helping out a single neighbor with a kid?” Max asks as he locks the car. “Roads are a mess today. Black ice everywhere. You took a cab or came by public transport?”

“Subway,” she says curtly.

“Then wait in the car,” Max says, nodding toward his SUV and pressing the unlock button on the key fob again.

“What?” She blinks in confusion. “You’re not even going to invite me in? I came all the way across the city to see you. Max, don’t you have something to tell me?” Her eyes dart back to me.

Max exhales. He knows there’s no avoiding her now. With a curt gesture, he invites her to join us and walks off toward the building without looking back. We follow.

“And which apartment are you staying in?” his mother asks me, her tone deceptively sweet.

“Sixth floor,” I reply, almost not lying.

“I see. I’m Helga,” she says, offering a tight smile.

“Erin,” I respond, feeling awkward as hell.

We enter the building in silence and wait for the elevator. The small space feels cramped for the four of us. The air is tense. Just as the lift starts to move, Tim lets out a soft whimper, and I shift him into my arms to calm him.

“I think he’s too warm,” Max offers. “You’ve bundled him up like we’re headed to the Arctic, and it’s hot in here.”

“He’s just hungry, aren’t you, sweetie?” I coo, kissing Tim’s cheek and rocking him gently.

Helga watches us closely, something calculating behind her narrowed eyes. She opens her mouth to say something again as we step out of the elevator, and she squints even more suspiciously when we all file into the same apartment one after another.

Honestly, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. Max doesn’t give me any cues. Doesn’t ask me to wait at Vivienne’s, or explain anything. Just leads me home, confidently, wordlessly, as if this is all perfectly normal.

Thankfully, I cleared out most of my things from the open spaces earlier.

Otherwise, his mother would’ve tripped over baby stuff the second she crossed the threshold.

Hopefully, the only clue left behind is the nursery, and maybe a few pieces of clothing still hanging in the closet. I pray she won’t go snooping.

“So… Erin’s not going home?” Helga asks, casually. Too casually.

“Erin’s apartment is under renovation, so she’s staying here until the evening,” Max says smoothly, not even blinking as he offers the explanation. He looks completely unbothered by the whole situation, as if having a woman and a baby in his apartment while his mother watches is a regular Tuesday.

“And her husband doesn’t mind?” Helga presses on, arching a brow.

“I’m not married,” I reply with an awkward smile. I want to retreat to the bedroom with Tim, but then I remember I’m supposed to be a guest here, not a temporary resident. So instead, I follow Max and Helga into the kitchen. I still need to feed Tim, after all.

“Should I order something? Mom, are you hungry?” Max reaches for his phone and glances between us.

“Oh no, don’t worry, although…” Helga trails off as she suddenly stops in the middle of the kitchen. “That bakery—the one on the corner—is it open? I wouldn’t mind their cinnamon rolls with some tea. You’ll go pick some up, won’t you, sweetheart?”

“I doubt they’ve opened yet after the storm,” Max replies hesitantly, but I catch the subtle flicker of worry in his eyes as he glances at me.

“I could’ve sworn I saw someone walking out of there,” she insists, her tone too light to be casual. “Erin, have you tried their pastries?”

“Yes,” I say, a beat too late. “I wouldn’t mind some cinnamon rolls either,” I add with a soft smile, trying to reassure Max that I can handle ten minutes alone with his mother.

Max hesitates, clearly torn. His fingers tighten around his phone.

“Mom, can I talk to you for a second?” he says, giving her a look that makes it impossible to say no.