❃𝙺𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚊❃
I don't get it. I really don't.
She says she wants only the best for me. That she'll always support me—no matter what. That's what she's told me. During the latest hours of the night when I was little, she'd cup my face in her hands with a sad little smile, sat down on the cold bathroom floor.
She told me she loved me during those late nights. Told me she'd always love me, and she would always be there for me. It was rare for her to make a heartfelt promise like that, but I always believed her.
Until now.
She loves me and she always supports me, but she's mean to my son's dad—the guy I'm dating. For no reason too. He hasn't done anything to her. He's polite with her, albeit playful about his approach. He's the first one to offer to take her to and from either our house, some place we're meeting up, and even the doctor's office when he knows he can. And yet, she doesn't even want to sit in the front seat beside him in the car.
He tried so hard tonight. He tried to be nice, and I could see him trying to understand her every time she said or hinted at something. He kept quiet all night when my mom made it obvious she didn't want to hear anything from him. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to watch, and I know it's taken a bit of a toll on him by the time dinner's over.
He's quieter. Smiles when one of the kids looks excitedly up at him, but that's about it. He doesn't look like he really wants to be here anymore, and I don't blame him. I'd like to tell him it's over now, but I can't do that just yet. We still have to take my mom home too then has to drop Cam and I back at home.
I rest my hand briefly on his back while we stand outside the restaurant, sharing goodbyes with Aaliyah and Alex. For now, Cameron and Elaina run around us to play for a little longer before we part ways. During my goodbye with Aaliyah though, the energy between us shifts some.
While Noah is preoccupied trying to get a hold of the two kids with the help of Alex, Aaliyah pulls me aside some along with the stroller containing a sleeping baby. "This was, um...nice." Her smile looks a little forced.
I grimace. "I don't know what's going on between them." I admit, already aware of why she's forcing that smile.
She drops it with a sigh, letting herself frown at me. "I don't know either." She agrees. "But I know my brother." She spares a look his way briefly before looking back at me. "Whatever it is, it's not fair." She decides, voice quiet but chin held up high. "I'm sorry. But whatever's going on over there isn't his fault." She adds. It's almost like she's afraid to say it but has to. "And it's hurting his feelings."
I frown at that, letting my eyes drift over to him. "Yeah?" I whisper as I watch him. I knew this has taken a toll on him, but Noah's the kind of guy who's got thick skin. He takes a lot and somehow manages to laugh it all off. Maybe I'm wrong about that though. There are so many more new things I'm learning about him now that he has his guard down almost all the time.
"Yeah." She confirms quietly. "You should probably..."
I shake my head softly. "What?" I coax. She looks down at her sleeping baby and shifts uncomfortably on her feet. "Please tell me." I plead. "Promise I won't be mad."
She sighs her defeat at that. "You should talk to him about it." She suggests. "He's not going to bring it up on his own. You should do it and maybe...I don't know. Figure out what's going on between them. Help him. He's not going to help himself."
I nod slowly. "Yeah." I agree on a mumble. Had it been his mom making faces and grumbling things all night, he'd have shut it all down before our food even got to the table.
She takes a deep breath. "We should try to hang out soon." She suggests with a small smile, beginning to play with her hands the way Noah does. "If...you want."
I find it in me to smile back at her. "We should." I agree. I think she's just worried I don't want to be her friend anymore after this. But I just like her a little more now. She'll tell me if I screw up, albeit kinda hesitantly.
We hug each other before returning to the group. The kids are already wrangled up by their own dads, so it seems like they're just waiting around for us. "Are we going home now?" Cameron asks casually, in the middle of being flipped upside down in his dad's arms.
"Yeah." I reach over to pinch his side when his shirt rides up a little way above his belly button. He thrashes and accidentally smacks Noah in the face with his fist. I grimace. Noah pulls back some and manages to just blink it off.
Mom laughs.
Noah doesn't bother with a playful roll of his eyes. He knows she's not playfully laughing at him this time around. His jaw clenches as he leans down to set Cameron's feet down on the ground. Cameron frowns, confused about why he was put down so early. He's used to Noah swinging him around for a while longer.
I'm quick to grab him and lift him up again. I can't suppress my groan though. My back kills me when I stand up straight, and he stares dryly at me. I awkwardly stare back at him before I quickly sweep us away from the adults who fight in silence. They follow behind me with Noah at the very back of the line, the others parting ways from us as they head to their separate car.
My mom isn't fast with her cane. At all. She basically shuffles her feet to get around. So, you have to walk extra slow to stay with her. And even slower if you want to be behind her.
Noah basically takes one step, takes a break, then another step, and another break. Takes a longer break at the curb where my mom pauses.
I start to frown the longer she lingers there. It's a couple of inches high, and she pauses and looks unsure. She starts by trying to put her cane first but quickly takes that back when she decides it wouldn't work for some reason.
Noah steps up beside her. And even though she's been mean to him all night and has made him feel bad about himself, he holds his hand out to help her.
She ignores his hand and tries again by herself.
"Stop it before you hurt yourself." I hear him hiss, leaning in closer to her to whisper it. I clear my throat and start walking towards the car with Cameron. I'd love to help him, but let's be fair here. He did it too. It's either the safety of our son or leaving the other alone with our mothers. I chose our son like he normally does.
Luckily, Mom and Noah are able to join us after a bit. Mom's glare tells me she didn't win that fight. Especially since she ultimately lets him open the door for her. He opens the backseat automatically though, making the decision for her that she's sitting in the back with Cameron.
She smacks his hand away when he tries helping her in the car. He pulls his hand away, but he's clearly not playing with her this time. "Slap me again, Margret." He dares.
Her eyes narrow defiantly. "What're you going to do?" She challenges him right back. It's not a smart decision with him right now. I've never seen him so angry like that. I wouldn't play with him now. I recoil a little, still carrying Cameron even though my arms are starting to ache.
"Why're you being mean?" Cameron mutters, eyes darting between them cautiously. I feel him grip my shirt in a fist on my back.
They both pause at that. Noah's anger drops in visibly, but I'm sure he's still seething inside. I back away some more from them both with my son held close. "They're just playing, Cam." I tell him as I turn away to go to the other side of the car to get him in his car seat.
"Oh," Cameron acknowledges on a mumble. "Can you tell them to stop?" He whispers once we're all the way on the other side of the car.
"They'll stop." I promise as I open the door. "Right, guys? It's not funny anymore, so we're stopping the joke now." I hum with a glance at them across the way.
"No. It's not." Noah's eyes are still set on my mom, firm but no longer so openly mean. He leans in a little closer to her and whispers something I don't quite hear this time. Whatever he says though convinces her to take his hand when he offers it.
Shit. I make a mental note not to ever make it to Noah's bad side. I knew he had one, but I figured that side was more...playfully angry. Or at least softly angry.
He's a little scary.
__________
It feels like years go by until we're finally home. By then, you'd think things would've...calmed. Noah got to wait in the car with Cameron while I took my mom inside and got her situated there. And now that he's here with us letting Cameron show us his newest Lego project, I thought that maybe he'd be calmer. Feel better.
But he doesn't. He really doesn't, and it seems to have only gotten worse. He doesn't look so angry, but he looks like he's been up for days. Exhausted and not fully up to be lifting Cameron up and keeping up with his energy. Cameron picks up on it like he always does, and he hesitates to go fix the last pieces of his Legos before he shows us. Almost like he's waiting for me to suggest we show Dad some other time.
I don't suggest that though, letting him go get his project. When Cameron's gone, I beckon Noah over to the kitchen. "Come on. I want to show you something I got and I need you to tell me if it's right."
Begrudgingly, he follows me to the kitchen. Stands there silently while I go to the fridge to get the new drinks I got for him. Hopefully something to add to his collection of juice pouches. Sparkling water in mini cans that aren't that much bigger than his pouches.
I open it before I hand it to him. "What is it?" Even his voice is flat.
I try not to frown. "It's, um," I clear my throat. "It's sparkling water."
"Sparkling water?" He makes a face. He doesn't even drink any of it, setting it down on the counter.
"No, come on. Try it." I plead. "Just a sip. Look, it's good." I reach over to pick it up and bring it to my lips. I nod as I take a long sip of it and hum like it's the best thing I've ever tasted before I offer it to him.
"I don't want to."
I frown. I can't really force him to try it if he doesn't want to, so I end up just nodding. "Fine." I accept quietly. He lets out a breath in response. "Do you..." I hesitate. Avert my gaze. "Do you want to talk about it?"
At first, he doesn't answer me. I keep my eyes pointed elsewhere, waiting for him to say anything. "Talk about what, Kiara?" He asks on a long exhale.
I look up at him at that. "About...I mean, tonight? For starters." I laugh weakly as I show him my palms helplessly.
He clenches his jaw and shakes his head as he looks at the wall over my shoulder. "You know, that entire time, I got glared at. She basically said I couldn't provide for you guys and that you were making a mistake with me. Said I wasn't doing anything but drifting along."
I look at the ground when he looks back at me. "I know." I whisper.
"You know." He repeats. He scoffs under his breath. "And you just..."
I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek, finding it in me to slowly meet his gaze. He doesn't glare like he's angry, but his expression isn't the soft one I recognize. It's firm and unforgiving.
"I like you." He finally continues. "I really do, Kiara. But I can't," He pauses to glance off to the side briefly. "I can't keep having nights like this. It hurts. And I know you hate acknowledging shit like this, and you like to close your eyes like it's not happening, but it is. It's happening. It's happening right in front of you, and you're not saying anything. I'm tired of always being the one who shuts my mouth and sucks it up for the sake of the same people who aren't doing the same for me. It's fucking exhausting."
He sounds tired. Looks it too. He's been tired all night, and the little thing that happened at the end was because he'd had enough. And then when he stood up for himself because he realized I wouldn't do it, he got in trouble.
When I was younger, my friend had this dog. The dog was happy almost all the time. She was tolerant of our grabby little hands, and I can't remember when she ever actually showed some teeth. That was until one day we were poking around with her while she was eating. My friend said she did it all the time and the dog didn't care. So, she just kept poking at her thinking the dog was fine with it. It really didn't take long for the dog to snap though, whipping around to bite my friend's hand hard before she ran off to hide somewhere.
Now that I'm older, I realize how stupid that was and how mean it was to that poor dog that we just poked at her like that. I know now that everyone has their limits, and poking her all the time was an obvious one. It wasn't her fault that she bit my friend after we'd pushed her far past that point, but she got in trouble like it was.
Noah's not that dog. But the same lesson still applies. We've pushed him to his limit, and it's not his fault that he's breaking under the pressure. The pressure of keeping quiet instead of defending himself just because I want him to. Because I'm afraid of how my mother would react if he reminded her that he didn't deserve that kind of treatment. It's selfish and cruel.
I step closer and lift myself up on my tiptoes. He tenses like he's surprised when I wrap my arms around his shoulders to hug him. For a few seconds, he doesn't return my hug. Just when I feel like he's going to push me off him, his arms slowly circle around my back.
His grip is weak at first, returning my hug numbly. But the longer we stand here, the tighter it gets. He starts bending over me to bury his face in my neck, hanging onto me almost too tightly. The deep breath he lets out sends a shiver down my spine, and I shut my eyes tightly.
We stand here silently for a long time, almost beginning to sway a little in our places. Eventually, I start to pull away only to cup his face. His grip on me hardly loosens. I guide him closer to capture his lips in a slow, apologetic kiss. I go right back to hugging him when the kiss breaks, letting him drop his face back into my neck. "I'm sorry." I whisper. "I'm sorry I haven't said anything. I'm sorry I never say anything."
I feel him hug me a little tighter after adjusting his hold. "I know it's...hard to say something. Especially when it comes to your mom." He whispers back.
"You stand up for me all the time against your parents." I counter shamefully. It's not fair that it had to take him being pushed to his breaking point for me to get that. "I'll be better at speaking up. I promise." I pull away just to kiss him again. One of his hands drifts from wrapping around me up to tangle in my hair, trying to guide me a little closer to kisses that are slow, lingering, and that hopefully help show I really mean it.
The distinct sound of a Lego project falling and breaking on the kitchen tile behind us makes us both jump. Noah pulls away to look over his shoulder and at our son who stands in the entryway, jaw dropped, eyes wide, and hands still in the position of holding his Legos that are no longer in his hands anymore.
We all just stare. Me and Noah at Cameron and Cameron at us.
"How could you kiss my mom?!"
Noah slowly shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Nut. But she kissed me first, and you know how Mom gets when she doesn't get her way." He reasons as he pulls more away from me to fully face Cameron, shaking his head apologetically at him.
I scoff as I push his shoulder.
"See?"
The devastation and betrayal that crosses that little boy's face makes me reach for my heart. Pure, raw emotions over there.
And Noah told me he'd be fine. Happy, even. Yeah-fucking-right. He looks like he's about to cry. He does not look like he's about to start jumping down in excitement, elated that Mom and Dad like each other the way his other friends' parents do.
"How come you didn't tell me?" He mumbles weakly. "How come you don't tell me anything? I wanna know too. It's not fair."
Noah and I share looks. We weren't fully done with our conversation, but we both seem to agree on stopping it for now. "We just wanted to be sure, Cameron." I reason quietly. "We didn't want to..." I glance up at Noah who meets my gaze. "...get your hopes up."
He sniffles. "But you said you didn't love each other." He reasons.
"Who said that?" Noah can't stop himself from asking.
"You!" A tear slips down his pink, puffed up cheeks. "You said!" He sobs, backing away from us. "You said you weren't like them!" Noah takes a step closer, but that only makes him turn to run off.
"Cam!" I call weakly as I try to follow him. Even though Noah's the first one who took a step, he's the one to stop me from chasing him. I scoff and try to push him away, but his grip on my arms tightens. "I'm not going to let him sit there all alone and cry about this."
"Give him just one minute, Kiara." He urges. "He ran for a reason, okay? He just needs a second to himself. Let him have it before we invade his space."
I stare back at him, frozen in place for a few seconds while I process his words. I let out a breath as I look back towards the sliver of the hall that I can see from her. "He gets one minute." I decide as I tug my arms out of his grasp and turn away to step away from him and back further into the kitchen.
Noah sighs. "Kiara,"
I hold my hand up silently, turning my back to him. He says nothing more, leaving me be to do the exact thing he hates. I shut my eyes, keep my back to him, and pretend like it's not happening. "I don't care that I'm doing the thing you hate—I just broke my son's heart, let me do it. I'll still have a conversation with my mom." I dismiss him without even turning around.
"Yeah. Yeah, do what you have to." He breathes. I start to wonder if he's doing his own thing back there. Like playing with his hands—he does that a lot. I don't hate it like he hates my habits though. "Our."
I almost turn around to look at him. "Our what?"
"Our son."
I open my eyes and turn around to look at him, staring silently.
"You said your son. He's ours. Our son." He quietly corrects, eyes darting rapidly across my face.
He doesn't usually comment on that. The your son or my son thing. We both do it all the time, and neither of us ever say anything. If we do, it's playful because we both know that at the end of the day, he's always our baby. Not just mine, not just his.
"Our son's minute is up."
He drops his head, letting me quickly walk past him this time. I hear him follow me after a few seconds of lingering in the kitchen. By that point, I'm already gently knocking on the door and slowly opening it. "Go 'way!" Cameron's muffled voice comes out from under his blanket on his bed.
"Cam," I sigh as I slowly inch further inside. "We're sorry." I weakly offer. I step over to take a careful seat on the foot of his bed.
Noah walks to the edge of his bed where his head probably is and drops to his haunches. He reaches over to peel back the blanket off of Cameron so we can see him. In response, he turns his head to bury it in his pillow. "Go 'way!" He repeats on a groan.
"Get your face out of there. You're going to suffocate yourself like that." Noah warns gently as he nudges Cameron's back.
"Good!" His muffled voice returns.
Noah's jaw clenches at that. I pull back a little while he stands up straight to grab Cameron by his sides. Cameron whines in response, but Noah doesn't care. He lifts him up and takes the pillow away from him when Cameron insists on hugging it to his face. "Talk to us, Cam." I plead as Noah sets him back down on the mattress.
He lets go of Cameron and takes a seat on the bed beside him who pouts down at his lap. "You're a liar! You said you and Dad don't kiss!" He quickly adds, pointing an accusing finger at me.
"Don't yell at your mom." Noah reminds.
Cameron turns his anger on Noah in an instant. "You kissed my mom! That's gross. And you said you didn't love each other. Liar!"
"You know what? I did kiss your mom and I liked it—"
"Noah!" I scold. Cameron gasps in abject horror. "Go wait in the hall for a minute!" I demand, pointing to the door. "Let us talk alone for a second."
Noah huffs as he shoots up from the bed, shuffling towards the door. Before he can make it out though, he spins back around. "And she liked it too—"
"Go!"
"I'm going!" He insists as he storms out the door and probably to the living room. Or to the kitchen to try the sparkling water I got him. Hopefully that second one.
I sigh deeply as I look back at Cameron. "Sorry." I apologize awkwardly. "Dad can be like a kid sometimes."
He crosses his arms to really sell this pouting show. "You too."
I tilt my head with a small smile. "You think I can be like a kid sometimes too?"
He nods. "Yeah."
I hum quietly as I look off to the side briefly. "I guess we all can." I acknowledge. "Dad makes me feel like a kid sometimes."
His nose scrunches in relatable pity. "He makes you clean your room too?"
I laugh. "No," I murmur. Though, there is a text message I could pull up right now that says the opposite. He told me to clean my room and stop putting it off. "That just means he makes me really happy, is all."
He frowns. "I thought you said I make you happy."
I frown back at him. "You do, baby." I reach over to touch his wrist. "But Dad makes me happy too. You both do."
His lips shift as he bites on the inside of his cheek. "You said it would be just us here." He whispers. "And that I was all you needed."
I blink a couple of times. For a moment, I don't know how to respond. "I..." I shake my head softly. "I didn't know we'd find..." I swallow. "Don't you like having him here?"
"Yeah," He doesn't hesitate to answer, but he still frowns.
"Then..." I still can't understand it. Maybe I should be able to, but I can't figure out what he means. "Do you want it to be just us again?" I whisper. I don't even know what I'd do if he said yes. It'd mean a whole hell of a lot more therapy, that's for sure.
"No." He doesn't hesitate again. "I love Dad." He mumbles.
I nod along slowly. "But..."
He chews some more on the inside of his cheek. "You said I was all you needed. But then Wyatt came. And then Dad. Wyatt again too. Dad and you whisper all the time. You don't tell me things anymore. How come? I thought I make you happy. How come you keep secrets? I thought we weren't supposed to keep secrets."
"I'm sorry." I shake my head softly. "You are all I ever need, Cameron." I reach over to gently touch his cheek. He leans into my hand, bottom lip trembling. "You do make me happy. So does Dad too though. It makes me happy to see you guys being happy together too." I explain with a gentle smile. He sniffles a little. "I promise you Dad feels the same way about you too. You're all he really needs." I add with a little nod.
"But why do you keep secrets?"
I sigh at that. "I don't know." I admit on a whisper. "I'm scared."
He frowns deeper. "You're scared?"
I lift a shoulder with a small smile. "Yeah." I quietly admit. "I'm scared of hurting you. Dad thought we should tell you sooner, but I was too scared to. I didn't want..." I laugh to myself and gesture to him. "Well. I didn't want you to feel like this."
"You secret kept."
I nod. "Again." I add. "I'm sorry I kept a secret like this again, Cameron. Next time, I promise I'll sit down with you."
He holds his pinkie up quick. I stare down at it for a second before taking a deep breath and lifting my hand to lock my pinkie with his. We hold it for a second before we both drop our hands. He nods like he's satisfied with that. "I'll tell you about my secrets too." He promises.
I laugh to myself. "Thanks." I hum. He nods assumingly. "Maybe I should get my own Kinsley to talk to." I thoughtfully look to the side.
"Kinsley's nice."
I smile. "You think so?" He shrugs. "Maybe you should try talking more about this with her." I suggest. He shrugs again. "Are we ready for Dad?"
"Yeah." He looks at the door over my shoulder.
I look over my shoulder too. "Noah," I call.
"Noah!" Cameron repeats, calling for him too. I chuckle. It's been a long, long time since he's called him like that.
"Woah, woah, woah, we're not going back to that." Noah decides, voice getting closer from down the hall. "Be mad at me all you want, but I earned that Dad name. I get to keep that." He shows up in the doorway with playfully narrowed eyes.
There he is. I know that Noah. That's the Noah who's had some time to think and get a few things off his chest—this probably being a big one. This and the fact that we at least got the first conversation open and ready to be revisited soon.
Cameron smiles. He bounces back quick. "You kissed my mom, Noah." He decides it's a punishment then. Won't last long, I know.
"Hey, what'd I say? She practically forced me to." He extends his arms out as he shuffles back over. "Now get out. It's my turn to have my minute." He waves his hand at me.
I hum as I stand from the bed, deciding it's fair. "Fine." I agree. "But no more talking about kissing." I firmly add, watching them with narrowed eyes on my way out. "It's weird."
"Yeah." Cameron's quick to agree.
"Uh-huh—Go." Noah insists. His smile is playful, but the look in his eyes tells me he's still taking this seriously. I nod as I leave the room.
Things aren't suddenly better now, and I think we all might know it. Noah and I probably do, at least. For one, we didn't fully come to a resolution with the conversation that started this whole mess. And two, Cameron's going to have questions later on. He's still going to have to get used to it, and we're going to have to come up with a label to give him.
Because we kiss, cuddle, and sometimes go out with each other isn't as easy to understand for a little kid. Or for an adult.
I still don't know what Noah is to me. And now we have to figure it out. Fast too.