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14

JAMIE

Jamie sat curled beneath the wide, arching branches of the ‘reading tree’ in the corner of what they fondly called the “cool room,” though it had turned into something far more sacred over the months. She hung a string of fairy lights in the tree last week, and those lights twinkled overhead, soft and golden, casting halos of warmth around the quiet room. It smelled faintly of pine and cinnamon from a candle she'd lit earlier in the day, trying to bring comfort to a hard afternoon.

Zachary was nestled in her lap, his little body curled tight against her chest as if seeking solace from the ache of the fever that flushed his cheeks a bright, worrisome pink. His small fingers had found their way into his mouth again, and he chewed on them absentmindedly, the way he always did when he was fighting something—illness or fear or confusion. Today, it was the first, and her heart ached for him.

She had read three picture books aloud already, her voice soft and melodic, coaxing sleep to find the little boy who called her “Jamie” in a tone that always held a piece of her heart. She’d stopped when his breathing evened out, folding the latest book shut with a quiet whisper of pages. Now she rocked gently, cradling him as his warm cheek pressed into her collarbone.

She loved this boy. Fiercely. Maybe more than she’d ever thought possible for someone who hadn’t come from her body. But he’d been sewn into her soul from the moment she met him.

Kenneth’s ex had texted earlier that week, asking for money again. Not once asking about Zachary, not a single word of concern for her son’s well-being or whether he was happy. Jamie hadn’t said anything at first—just stared at the text on Kenneth’s phone when it buzzed on the counter while she had cooked dinner that afternoon and tried not to cry. She hated that woman for what she didn’t do and for how little she seemed to care. And she hated that Kenneth had to carry that kind of heartache around, knowing his child came second to someone who should’ve put him first.

She’d sent Kenneth a message to let him know about the fever. He hadn’t replied, but that was fine—he was at practice. He would read it later. And knowing Kenneth, he’d come straight home, and he’d care. That’s who he was.

She heard the garage door close and felt her body tense ever so slightly, then exhale in relief. Her arms tightened around Zachary instinctively. The little boy stirred slightly in her lap but didn’t wake. He needed the rest to fight his fever. She kissed his forehead, feeling the heat of his fever still lingering, and whispered a silent prayer the Tylenol would work soon.

“Jamie? Zachary?” Kenneth’s voice floated in from the entryway, just as warm and solid as the man himself.

“We’re in here,” she called out quietly, her voice barely above a whisper so as not to disturb the child she held.

Kenneth stepped into the room, and Jamie looked up at the man she loved. He was still in his practice gear, sweaty and flushed from effort, but the moment his eyes landed on Zachary nestled in her arms, all the tiredness on his face shifted into concern.

“What’s going on?” he asked, already coming closer.

“Zachary’s got a fever and not feeling good,” she replied softly.

Kenneth’s brow furrowed as he knelt beside them, brushing the back of his hand against his son’s forehead.

“Aww, poor guy,” he murmured. “He’s a little warm.”

“He’s running a fever of one hundred. I gave him some Tylenol, and he should be feeling better soon. If it goes up, I’ll take him to the pediatrician tomorrow.”

Kenneth sat down beside her, and something in Jamie melted. He didn’t go off to shower. Didn’t brush it off or make light of the moment. He sat there, present, grounded, choosing them . Choosing her . And in that moment, her heart swelled so painfully she thought it might burst.

She turned her head to look at him, her lips curving into a tender smile. “I love you,” she said softly, her eyes lingering on the way he watched Zachary, the way his hand rested gently on the boy’s shirt-covered back. “I know there’s nothing sexy about this, but it means the world to me to have you here – with us.”

“I hope you know not everything has to be about what we do together alone,” Kenneth said, his voice low and earnest. “This, having you here, being a part of my life, our lives, is more special than anything. If we never…”

“Boy, bite your tongue,” she interrupted, flashing him a warning look that made them both chuckle. The sound was soft, almost reverent in the quiet room.

“I like that part of our relationship, too,” he added with a grin.

“Good. You were going to give me a complex.”

“When I was going to say that – it wasn’t put out there lightly, Jamie – and it never would be. It would be like lopping off a vital part of my soul because I love showing you how much I care.”

“I feel the same—and I never want it to fade,” she whispered.

“Same.”

There was a stretch of silence then, but it wasn’t empty. It was full—of warmth, of everything unspoken, of the little boy asleep in her lap, the flickering lights of the tree, and the steady presence of the man beside her. Her throat closed around the words she wanted to say next, nerves suddenly rising like a wave cresting inside her.

“In fact…” Jamie hesitated, her voice catching. She felt his gaze shift fully to her, felt the weight of his attention settle completely.

She reached out, careful not to disturb Zachary, and laced her fingers through Kenneth’s. Her other hand still held their son gently, cradling his back. The moment felt delicate and suspended, and she could feel tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Kenneth asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Nothing,” she whispered, her smile trembling. “Everything is right.”

“You look nervous.”

“It’s because I’ve never had a positive pregnancy test before.”

The words hit the air like a match struck in darkness. She held her breath as they hung there, fragile and powerful and raw.

Kenneth’s eyes widened. She saw it—the moment the meaning hit him, and the flare of light in his gaze shimmered into something else. Something deeper. Emotion shimmered there like starlight on water.

“We’re going to have a baby?”

“I’m always spot on regarding that … never late, you know? And Friday was my day.”

“Tomorrow is Friday.”

“I know.”

“You’re six days late , so you took a test?”

“And poof – baby.” Jamie gave a tearful laugh, smiling through the emotion that clogged her throat. “I have to admit that I couldn’t keep it to myself. Zachary knows. He said that he was happy, but only if I had a dog.”

She made a face, part exasperated, part amused, and shot him a look.

Kenneth laughed—really laughed. The sound made something in her heart ease, soften, settle.

“I explained that I would have a baby boy or a baby girl – and it would be his sibling, but we would discuss getting a dog as a family when you got home.”

“It’s not a bad idea and would teach him responsibility.”

“Right?”

“A dog…” He shook his head slowly, wonder etched across his features, his eyes still locked with hers. They both laughed again, but this time, it was quieter, reverent. A shared moment of disbelief and joy, and something sacred that pulsed between them.

They were growing— they were growing.

A family. A dream. A life.

And Jamie, holding the little boy she already loved like her own, with a baby growing inside her and the man she adored sitting beside her, felt fuller than she ever had in her entire life.

* * *

T he morning sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, spilling soft gold across the tangled sheets. Jamie stirred, her limbs deliciously sore and her heart full. She blinked slowly, her lashes brushing her cheeks as a small, private smile curved her lips. The memories of the night before shimmered behind her closed eyelids—Kenneth’s tenderness, the reverent way his hands had moved across her skin, the quiet emotion that had thickened his voice as they made love, and his eyes when he looked at her?

She had never been seen like that before—not just desired but cherished .

With a quiet, contented sigh, she stretched, the sheets slipping down to pool at her waist. Her fingers touched the place on her collarbone where his lips had lingered, and she felt that same warmth bloom in her chest. It had been real. It hadn’t been rushed, obligatory, or perfunctory. It had been everything .

Her heart swelled further when she remembered how Zachary’s fever had finally broken around midnight. Just like that, the haze of worry that had shadowed the edges of her joy had lifted—and he’d asked for Dino-nuggets with a raspy, sleepy grin.

And then—she froze.

Zachary.

Panic flickered through her like a jolt of ice water. The house was too quiet. Too still.

Until she heard it. Faint, but unmistakable—the sound of Zachary's giggle echoing from somewhere deeper in the house, followed by the rich, husky rumble of Kenneth’s amused reply.

Jamie’s body relaxed all at once, like a thread pulled loose in a taut tapestry. She exhaled shakily, the fear replaced by a tenderness that took her completely off guard. Her hand drifted to her heart as she listened. Those sounds… it wasn’t just noise. It was harmony . It was the sound of her boys—laughing together. Her son. Her son. And the man she loved, being exactly what she'd never dared to dream he could be.

A family.

She sat up and reached for the shirt Kenneth had left draped on the nearby chair. Pulling it over her head, she padded to the edge of the bed and tilted her head toward the cracked door. Grabbing a robe, she wrapped it around her quickly and fastened the belt. The voices floated through it like the scent of something sweet baking in the oven—warm and inviting.

“Momma is going to laugh…”

Jamie’s breath caught in her throat.

She blinked rapidly, her lashes wet.

Momma.

Zachary hadn’t called her that before, if he had, it might have been during his sleep—but this was different. This was conscious. Real. He looked at her, considered her his Momma.

And it unraveled her.

Tears threatened, and she swallowed hard, brushing a hand across her cheek. Her knees felt weak with the ache of love, with the wonder of hearing that word spoken aloud. Momma. His momma.

“Shhh, Zack-Attack. She’ll hear us, and we’re almost done.”

Almost done with what ?

Jamie stood quietly, trying not to creak the wooden floorboards as she slipped into the hallway. The laughter grew louder—low chuckles, tiny snorts, and the unmistakable crinkle of cellophane.

Her brows pulled together in curiosity. What were they doing ?

She crept closer.

Each step she took felt like walking deeper into a moment she wouldn’t want to forget. She reached the corner and paused, pressing her palm to the wall for balance. She peeked around the edge—and stopped breathing.

Her mouth fell open.

There, in the living room, spread across every surface she could see—was chaos.

But beautiful chaos.

Vases. Dozens of them. All mismatched in shape and size, every single one filled not with flowers, but with snack cakes. Little Debbie snack cakes—glued with careful precision to the tops of dowel rods, standing tall like they were the proudest blooms in some whimsical, calorie-laden garden.

Jamie stepped forward slowly, unable to look away.

Swiss Roll “roses,” pink Sno-Ball “peonies,” rows of Cosmic Brownie “daisies,” Oatmeal Cream Pie “carnations.” There were Honey Buns adorned with glittery curly sticks, Christmas Tree cakes with shiny red ribbon, even Zebra Cakes twisted into something resembling lilies. Each bouquet was arranged meticulously—twelve “flowers” per vase, nestled with fake greenery like they belonged in some dessert-themed florist's catalog.

She was stunned.

Absolutely wrecked.

They did this for her?

“What is this?” she breathed, voice trembling.

“Momma!” Zachary cried out joyfully, bounding toward her. “Do you like it? Do ya? Do ya? We wanted to surprise you!”

Jamie dropped to her knees as he launched himself into her arms, clutching him tightly. She buried her face in his hair, overcome. The sugary smell of snack cakes and little-boy shampoo filled her lungs, and she let the tears fall freely now.

“I’m so surprised, too…” she whispered, holding him close.

Zachary beamed, his eyes dancing. “What did you and Daddy do?”

“Well,” he began, practically vibrating with excitement as she knelt to meet his gaze. “Me and Daddy, we had a guy-talk…”

Her gaze flicked to Kenneth.

He stood leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, a self-satisfied smirk playing at his lips—but his eyes… oh, his eyes. They were molten with love. With pride. With that unspoken depth he always wore when he looked at her and Zachary, like he couldn’t quite believe this was his life either.

Jamie’s breath caught again.

“… And our guy talk, we wanted to surprise you. So we started thinking.”

“And you guys are clever,” Jamie prompted, her voice breaking on a laugh that was mostly tears.

“We are! We are! Momma, we thought you were so sweet and needed some flowers, so we mixed ‘em up and made these for you instead.”

She pulled him into another fierce hug, her throat too full to speak at first. Her arms trembled as they held him. Her soul fluttered with emotion.

“I can’t believe you did this,” she finally managed, her voice soft and awed. She looked up at Kenneth, barely able to comprehend how she’d ever lived a life without him in it. His answering shrug was casual, but his eyes— Goodness, his eyes —said everything.

This was love.

This was real.

“This one is my favorite snack cake,” Zachary announced proudly, scrambling out of her embrace to fetch one of the more precarious vases. It wobbled dangerously, but he steadied it like it was a priceless artifact and handed it to her with both hands. “I love Cosmic Brownies – and this is my favorite, so you have to eat this one last.”

Five year olds are amazingly wonderful, she thought, smiling, her heart twisting with emotion. “I promise to eat that one last – and maybe we could share it?” she offered gently.

Zachary let out a relieved sigh, as if she'd just solved a major crisis, then dashed back to place the vase carefully on the table.

Jamie stood slowly, her gaze meeting Kenneth’s across the room.

She tilted her head, teasing, her voice soft and playful. “Do you have a favorite, big boy?”

It was a familiar line between them now, something half-flirtation, half-truth. She knew his answer before it even passed his lips, but she craved hearing it anyway. Craved him.

Kenneth's eyes darkened with affection as he took a step toward her, slow and sure. He passed his sleeping son off to the ‘big-boy-bed’ Zachary loved with the tenderness of a man who knew exactly the beauty of life and what he held—and she did too.

But then… all of Kenneth’s attention was hers.

“You know I do,” he murmured, reaching for her like she was the only steady thing in the room.

Her fingers slid along his jaw, rough with the faintest edge of a day’s stubble, as she tilted her face up until their eyes met. Her breath caught. The way he looked at her—like she was everything, like she was his everything—undid her.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t hurried. It wasn’t casual. It was deep, consuming, and honest.

His mouth moved against hers with the certainty of a man who had made a thousand small choices to love her every single day. And she let go—of fear, of doubt, of everything except the heat of his lips and the quiet thunder of her heart pounding in response. Her hands slid up his chest, clutching at his shirt like she could hold him closer, could anchor herself to this moment forever.

Time faded. The world fell away. There was no past, no future—just this kiss. Just this man.

Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, unspilled but heavy. Not because she was sad. But because sometimes, happiness ached, too. Especially when you hadn’t believed it would ever really be yours.

Jamie melted into him with a sigh, soft and full of longing. Please let this last forever. If she could bottle this exact feeling—this safety, this passion, this love—she would keep it close for all the lonely years that had led her here, taking a chance on this on him .

She pulled back only slightly, her lips still brushing against his, her voice low and rough with emotion. “I should have borrowed a cup of sugar a long time ago, neighbor,” she whispered.

Kenneth chuckled, the sound was a soft rumble in his chest, and his smile ghosted across her cheek like a promise.

“No kidding.”