Chapter 76: Seventy Six

Our apartment was quiet when we got back, the soft hum of the heater the only noise in the room. Noah had fallen asleep on the drive home, head lolling against his car seat, his cute, tiny snores steady and even. I scooped him up carefully, his hair tickling my neck, and carried him inside, his weight still low enough for me to carry him. I’d probably be unable to in the next year.

“Careful,” Jacob murmured, following close behind with Noah’s backpack and my coat. “You’re going to wake him.”

“I’ve got him,” I whispered, easing my son onto his bed. Noah stirred, clutching his stuffed toy, but didn’t wake. I brushed a kiss against his forehead, watching his chest rise and fall, the corners of his lips parted in a soft pout. The kind of peacefulness only kids seemed capable of.

Jacob was waiting by the doorway when I slipped out, arms folded, the hallway light casting a faint shadow across his jaw.

“You shouldn’t let him sleep in the car for that long,” he said. “He’ll be up half the night.”

I exhaled slowly, tightening my ponytail. “He was exhausted. We were out all afternoon, and he barely touched his cake.”

“He needs structure, Willow,” Jacob said, walking toward the living room. “Bedtimes, routines. Kids thrive on them. You can’t just… let him pass out whenever he feels like it.”

“He’s five, Jacob, not a machine,” I said, trailing behind him. “And I’m doing my best. We both are.”

He set the bag down with a muted thump and glanced at me, something hard flickering in his gaze before it softened. “I know you are. I just… worry about him. About us.”

The words were gentle enough, but there was an edge there, the kind I’d learned not to press against. I swallowed whatever retort was building and went to sink onto the couch. The cushions were soft beneath me. I let myself close my eyes for a second.

Jacob joined me, draping an arm over my shoulders. “Long day?”

I nodded, letting my head fall against his chest. “Yeah. Long week, actually.”

He reached for the remote and muted the TV, the quiet filling in around us like water. “Then get some sleep. I’ll clean up the kitchen.”

A small, grateful smile tugged at my lips. “Thanks.”

But as my eyes closed, the exhaustion didn’t blot out the heaviness in my chest. It lingered, the kind of heaviness that came from walking a tightrope you weren’t sure you’d chosen.

______

I woke a few hours later, the clock flashing just past midnight. The blanket had been pulled over me, Jacob gone. For a moment, I listened to the faint clatter of dishes being washed in the kitchen before it stopped.

I padded over, barefoot on the cold tiles. Jacob was drying his hands, the smell of soap thick in the air.

“You should’ve let me help,” I murmured.

He looked up, brows slightly raised. “You were exhausted. Besides, you do enough. I’ve got it.”

He tipped my chin with his fingers, kissing me softly.

“I’m fine, Jacob. You don’t have to handle everything.”

He crossed the small space between us, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear with his damp fingers. “I know. But I want to. That’s what family does, right? Take care of each other.”

I forced a smile. “Yeah. Right.”

_______-

The next morning, Noah bounded into our bedroom before the alarm went off, his T-rex clutched tight in one hand.

“Mommy, pancakes!” he announced, climbing onto the bed and bouncing between us.

Jacob groaned, pulling the covers over his face. “It’s Saturday, buddy. No early mornings.”

“But pancakes!” Noah insisted, tugging at the blanket.

I laughed softly, sitting up to scoop him into my lap. “Okay, okay. Pancakes it is. Go wash your hands while I get dressed.”

Noah darted out of the room, toy in tow.

Jacob rolled over, his eyes still heavy with sleep. “You spoil him, you know that?”

“He’s five, Jacob. Spoiling him with pancakes isn’t going to ruin him.”

Jacob sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m just saying, he already fights bedtime and throws fits when he doesn’t get his way. We need to start being consistent.”

A familiar flicker of defensiveness rose in my chest, but I tamped it down. “We’ll figure it out.”

He reached out, pulling me back down beside him. “Hey. Don’t get defensive. I’m not attacking you. I just want what’s best for him. For all of us.”

I nodded, staring up at the ceiling. “I know.”

Later, as we all sat at the breakfast table, Noah chattered about the upcoming field trip to the zoo, syrup smeared across his cheeks.

“Daddy, will you come too?” he asked brightly.

Jacob chuckled, ruffling Noah’s curls. “We’ll see, champ. I have work that day.”

Noah’s face fell, and I quickly interjected. “It’s okay, buddy. Mommy will come with you. We’ll take lots of pictures for Daddy.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” I said, tapping his nose.

Jacob caught my gaze across the table, and for a split second, something like frustration flashed in his eyes before he masked it with a smile.

That evening, after Noah had gone to bed, Jacob and I sat in the living room, the TV muted, a half-finished bottle of wine between us.

“Have you thought more about moving closer to my office?” he asked casually, swirling the wine in his glass.

I hesitated. “We’ve talked about this. My job’s here. And Noah’s school, he loves it.”

“Yeah, but my commute’s killing me. And this area isn’t exactly the safest. Wouldn’t it be better if we were somewhere… quieter?”

“Jacob…” I set my glass down, choosing my words carefully. “I like it here. We’ve built a life here. Uprooting everything right now wouldn’t be easy on Noah.”

He studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable, before leaning back. His hand lightly circled my ar, tugging, so I would look at him.  “I just think it’s worth considering. For all our sakes.”

I forced a smile, but my stomach twisted. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

He rolled his eyes, a little annoyed. I felt his grip on my arm tighten. I ignored it.