Chapter 74: Seventy Four
FIVE YEARS LATER
The loud beeping of my alarm dragged me out of sleep, a sound I’d come to hate but couldn’t live without. I rolled over, silencing it with a heavy hand before sinking back into my pillow. For just a second, I let myself drift in that comfortable space between asleep and awake. The sheets were warm, the apartment quiet. I knew I wouldn’t have the silence for too long.
As predicted, then came the soft pitter-patter of feet outside my door.
“Mommy?”
I sat up instantly, rubbing my eyes. “Come in, baby.”
The door creaked open, and a head full of messy brown hair peeked in. Noah, in his dinosaur pajamas, stood clutching his stuffed T-rex, his big blue eyes blinking at me.
“I’m hungry,” he announced.
I laughed softly. “Good morning to you too, little man.”
Kicking off the covers, I swung my legs out of bed. “Alright, breakfast time.”
He dashed off, the T Rex dragging behind him like it was a part of him. I padded into the kitchen, the sunlight filtering through the thin curtains and casting golden stripes on the linoleum floor. The place smelled faintly of lavender detergent from last night’s laundry. It wasn’t fancy. The cabinets were chipped, the fridge hummed loudly, but it was home. Our home.
I grabbed the box of cereal from the counter, pouring a generous amount into his bowl. Noah climbed onto his chair, kicking his legs back and forth, humming to himself as he shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth.
“Slow down,” I said automatically. “You’ll choke.”
He giggled, cheeks puffed out. “I’m a hungry dinosaur.”
“You’re going to be a sick dinosaur if you don’t chew your food.”
As he ate, I drank my coffee and opened my laptop, quickly scanning the emails that had piled up overnight. Most were work-related - updates on community initiatives, schedules for upcoming site visits. I worked at a nonprofit that focused on urban development, and while the hours were demanding, I believed in what we were doing. It gave me purpose.
A pair of strong hands suddenly slid around my waist from behind, startling me.
“Morning,” Jacob murmured against my temple, pressing a brief kiss there.
A lazy smile filled my face. “Morning. You’re up early.” He kissed my neck lightly.
“Had to send a couple of reports before the day got crazy.” He stepped back, ruffling Noah’s hair as he passed. “Hey, buddy. Ready for school?”
“Yeah!” Noah grinned up at him, bits of cereal milk on his chin. “Can we go to the park after?”
“We’ll see,” Jacob replied smoothly. “Maybe if you behave.”
Noah pouted, and I quickly changed the subject. “I’ll pick him up today. I’ve got a lighter schedule.”
Jacob gave me an approving nod. “Good. I’ll be home late. Got a team dinner tonight. Don’t wait up.”
“Okay.”
We went through our morning routine in practiced silence. After Noah finished breakfast, I helped him brush his teeth and wrestled him into a clean T-shirt and jeans. He bounced around the small apartment as I hunted for his sneakers, finally making him sit down for long enough to tie the laces.
“All set,” I said, standing up. “Ready to go?”
“Ready!” He grabbed his fox, then darted to Jacob, who scooped him up effortlessly.
“Alright, bud, let’s hit the road,” Jacob said, tossing me a brief smile over Noah’s shoulder. “See you tonight?”
“Yeah. Be safe,” I replied, leaning in for a quick kiss on Noah’s cheek. He squealed and wriggled free, demanding to walk by himself.
I watched them leave, the apartment door clicking shut behind them. For a moment, I just stood there, the silence settling around me. I didn’t have time for many thoughts. I had to get to work.
_______
On my way to work, I found myself replaying the morning in my head. Jacob had been good to Noah, good to both of us, in his way. He provided stability, something I’d desperately needed since…
And Noah adored him, and that was what mattered most.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
But sometimes, in quiet moments like these, the nagging doubt crept in. The hollow ache of a life that didn’t feel entirely mine.
I shook the thoughts away as I arrived at the office. My colleagues greeted me warmly, and I slipped into my role. I was glad to have found this job. It was like it had just fallen into my lap after I had fled grad school. Now, I had been working here for five years.
Meetings filled the morning, each one pulling me further from my thoughts and into the projects that consumed my days.
During lunch, my coworker Ashlyn leaned across the table, smiling. “So, Willow, how’s everything at home? Noah must be growing so fast.”
“Yeah, he is,” I replied, smiling automatically. “He’s… amazing.”
“And Jacob? You guys still thinking about getting a bigger place?”
I hesitated, forcing another smile. “Yeah. Maybe sometime soon.”
They nodded, satisfied, and the conversation moved on, leaving me with a an uneasy feeling in my chest.
Lately I felt like my life had become a script of lines I repeated because they were expected, not because they felt true.
______
That evening, I picked up Noah from school. His face lit up when he saw me, and he launched himself into my arms. “Mommy!”
“Hey, baby,” I whispered, holding him close. “How was your day?”
“Good! We painted lions!”
We stopped at the park on the way home, sitting on the swings as the sun dipped below the horizon. Noah’s laughter filled the air, a sound that was my anchor every single day of my life.
Later, after dinner and bedtime stories, I tucked him in, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “Goodnight, my little baby,” I whispered, kissing his cheek.
He stirred slightly but didn’t wake.
I lingered by his bed for a moment, watching his peaceful face, then retreated to the living room.
On the couch, I scrolled through my phone aimlessly. My thumb hovered over an old photo; one I could never bring myself to delete. A man with deep blue, thoughtful eyes and a half-smile that still haunted my dreams.
I swallowed hard and locked the screen, shoving the phone aside.
I had a life now.
A son.
A fiancé.
And yet, that old ache pulsed beneath the surface, as relentless as ever. How did you stop loving someone you saw every day in your own child?