Page 38 of Regretting You

Chapter Twenty-Three

Morgan

I wake up to the sound of my phone vibrating on my nightstand. I look over at the window, but the sun hasn’t even fully risen yet.

No one calls me this early.

I reach over and pick up my phone and see Jonah’s name at the top of the screen. I drop the phone on the nightstand and fall back onto my pillow.

We haven’t spoken in over a week. Not since the night we almost kissed. He’s texted twice, asking how I’m doing. I didn’t respond to either text.

It’s hard, because I want to separate myself from him, but at the same time, I want to spend time with Elijah. It sucks that Jonah and Elijah are a package deal.

I’m hoping we can work out some kind of visitation schedule. It would be even better if we didn’t have to go to each other’s houses to exchange Elijah. We could Uber Elijah back and forth.

That thought makes me laugh. Ubering babies from house to house. I wonder if there’s a minimum age limit for Uber passengers.

My phone pings. A text. I swing my arm back to my nightstand and pull my phone to my face. I sit up in bed when I see how many missed calls and texts I have from Jonah.

I throw the covers off and stand up, urgently pressing the screen to call him back. He answers on the first ring. “Morgan?”

“Is Elijah okay?”

Jonah sighs with relief at the sound of my voice. “I’m sorry to even ask you, but he’s been up all night with a fever, so I can’t take him to day care. But I can’t call in to work today. It’s state testing day for the freshmen, and after school lets out, I have two conferences sch—”

“Of course.” My hand is on my chest. My heart is pounding. I thought it was something worse. “Of course. Bring him over.”

Jonah’s voice is softer. Less panicked. “I won’t be able to pick him up until after six.”

“It’s fine. I miss him.”

I spend the next twenty minutes in the kitchen cooking.

Jonah sounded so stressed on the phone, and if Elijah was up all night with a fever, that means Jonah is going to need some energy today.

I used to do this for Chris. I’d make breakfast burritos packed with protein and send a bag with him on his busiest days.

I might also be making Jonah breakfast as somewhat of an apology. I feel like I was too harsh on him last week. Maybe I’ve been too harsh on him since he came back into our lives. Either way, burritos will make it better.

I’m also hoping this is a step forward. Maybe we can work out some sort of deal to where Elijah can be a huge part of my life, and Jonah and I can build an actual friendship.

I stay up most nights thinking about what he said to me in the driveway, and while it did have a profound impact on the resentment I’ve been holding toward him, I also realize that the feelings he was talking about were in the past.

We were teenagers back then. We were different people. He wasn’t saying that he still felt that way. He was simply saying he used to feel that way.

He’s been back in our lives for several months now, and nothing outside of that near kiss has indicated he still has those same feelings, so whatever he thought he felt for me when we were teenagers is something he obviously worked through during the years he was away.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have slept with Jenny when they ran into each other last year.

And he wouldn’t have moved in with her or agreed to marry her if he still had feelings for me.

That gives me hope that a friendship between us might actually work.

I’m stuffing the burritos into a bag when there’s a knock at the door.

I let Jonah in, but I pause for a second when I take him in.

He’s dressed up today. He’s wearing a black long-sleeved dress shirt with a black-and-silver tie.

He shaved his stubble and finally got a haircut.

He looks younger. I start to comment on how nice he looks but think better of it.

Elijah is fussing in the car seat, so I unbuckle him and take him out of it. He’s warm when I pull him to my chest. “Poor thing.” He sounds congested. “Are you giving him anything?”

Jonah nods and pulls a couple of prescription bottles out of the diaper bag.

“I took him to the ER around midnight. They gave me these, said to rotate them every four hours.” He holds one of them up.

“Give him this one in two hours.” He sets the diaper bag down.

“I packed extra clothes and rags. You might need them today.”

“You took him to the emergency room? Have you even slept?”

As if the thought of it is a trigger, Jonah yawns, covering his mouth with a fist. He shakes his head. “I’ll be okay. I might have time to make a Starbucks run.” He opens the living room door to leave.

“Wait.” I go to the kitchen and grab the sack of breakfast burritos, running them back to him before he escapes. “I made these for you. Breakfast burritos. Sounds like you’re about to have a long day.”

Jonah looks at me with a soft appreciation as he takes it from me. “Thank you.” There’s a little bit of surprise in his voice, and I try not to let that please me, but it does. It feels good to do something nice for him. I’ve been so hard on him for so long.

“I’ll text you with updates on Elijah. Don’t worry. He’s in good hands.”

Jonah smiles. “I don’t doubt that for a second. See you tonight.”

As soon as he leaves, Clara walks around the corner, dressed for school. She sees Elijah in my arms and lights up, holding her arms out in front of her. “Gimme.”

I hand him to her. “He’s sick. Don’t kiss him—you might catch it.”

She cradles him against her chest and kisses his forehead anyway. “Sick babies need all the kisses they can get.”

She’s right. When Clara was a baby, the sicker she was, the more I coddled her and kissed her and just wanted to take all her aches and pains away. God, I miss those days.

I’m sure sometime in the near future, I’ll miss these days. I feel like Clara and I are an impossible pair this year, but I know I’ll miss it after she moves out and starts a life of her own. I’ll miss it all—the arguments, the silent treatments, the groundings, the rebellious behavior.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Clara asks.

I smile and pull her in for a hug. She’s holding Elijah, so she can’t reciprocate the hug, but it’s enough that she isn’t pulling away. I kiss the side of her head. “I love you.”

When I pull back, she’s looking at me with a cautious expression. But then she smiles and says, “Love you, too, Mom.”

She goes to the couch to sit with Elijah.

“I made breakfast burritos. Left you some on the counter.”

Clara perks up. “Bacon or sausage?”

“Both.”

“ Yes ,” she whispers. She gives her attention back to Elijah. “I love you, buddy, but I have breakfast to eat.”

I shoot Jonah a text around ten to let him know Elijah’s fever has gone down a little. He responds at noon.

Jonah: Is he sleeping at all?

Me: Not really. I bet he’ll crash once his fever finally breaks, though.

Jonah: Hopefully he waits until I’m ready to crash. This has been the longest day and it’s only noon. The breakfast was a godsend. Thanks for that.

Me: I have a roast in the crockpot. Clara and I won’t eat it all, so I can send some home with you when you pick up Elijah.

Jonah: Perfect. Thanks again.

Two hours later, I get another text from Jonah.

Jonah: Is he asleep yet?

Me: He took a fifteen minute nap. Still has fever, but he’s not as fussy as he was.

Then, a text from Clara.

Clara: Miller and I need to work on our project after school. We’ll be at Starbucks.

Me: What project? This is the first I’m hearing about a project with Miller.

Clara: Jonah partnered us up for the UIL film submission. We have less than 4 months to finish.

I text Jonah.

Me: You partnered Clara up with Miller Adams on the film project?

Jonah: Yes. Is that an issue?

Me: I’m assuming in more ways than one, considering he introduced her to drugs. And Chris already told her to stay away from him.

Jonah: Miller isn’t as bad as you seem to think he is. Chris didn’t even know the kid, so his opinion doesn’t count.

Me: I’ve formed my own opinion of the kid.

He talked Clara into leaving her father’s funeral.

He got her high. And according to a voice mail I received from the school, they both had detention last week due to PDA.

She never did any of this before he was in the picture.

And even if he’s not the cause of her actions, I’d still rather her be with someone who would talk her OUT of doing those things, rather than be the type of teenage boy to encourage her behavior.

Jonah: I don’t think that kind of teenage boy exists in real life.

Me: You’re not making me feel better about this.

I wait for his response, but I don’t get one.

I spend the rest of the afternoon trying to keep Elijah awake so that he’ll sleep for Jonah tonight, but once six o’clock hits, there’s no hope left.

He’s out cold. His tiny body is limp in my arms, deep in sleep as I place him in his bassinet.

His fever finally broke a couple of hours ago, so I think the worst is over, but I have a feeling after Elijah sleeps for a few hours, he’ll be up all night with Jonah.

Maybe I should offer to keep him for the night so Jonah can rest.

I pull out my phone to text Jonah those exact words when he knocks on the front door. I look down at Elijah, and the sound doesn’t even make him flinch. When I open the front door, I whisper, “He just fell asleep.”

Jonah is no longer wearing a tie. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, and his hair is messier than it was this morning. He looks even better than he did this morning, despite the exhaustion consuming him. Why am I even having these thoughts?

I motion for him to come to the kitchen so I can make him a plate of food to take with him. I pull Tupperware from the cabinet.

“Have you already eaten?” Jonah asks.

“Not yet.”