Taking Control : Bk. 3
**This is book 3 of a series. Please read "Under His Control" then "Losing Control" before you begin this installment. Thanks!**
He said we were his everything. We were the center of his universe and yet, I'm sitting here alone with our son, Oscar, waiting for him to walk through that door so I can scold him for being gone for the whole night. When I said, "Have a great time," with those supposed 'friends' of his, I didn't think he'd actually have this much and not be home. I sighed. He'd never done this. Never. He was always on time. Time... I checked the time again. It was exactly 5:39 a.m. and Oscar has just finished his six ounces and has fallen back to sleep. This was Omar's time to feed him and yet, I'm wide awake, I'm changing his dirty diaper, I'm feeding him, I'm burping him, I'm rocking him back to sleep. "We're a team," he had said. "We'll take turns." Not that I'm complaining because I love my little daddy-O with my whole heart and soul, but I do have a job to get to at 8 a.m. and he doesn't have class. He's supposed to be here, helping me. It sounded like the front door closed. I held my breath. I waited. He didn't come into the bedroom. Keeping Oscar secure against my chest, I slid off our bed and headed for the bathroom. He wasn't there. I headed for the living room. As soon as I reached the border between the hall and living room, I smelled it. Alcohol.