Page 34 of Blindside Love

Ellie

Iwake up to the sound of footsteps as they pitter-patter into my room.

My girl is awake.

Addy climbs in bed and snuggles up, her big brown eyes staring up at me. “Mommy, I want to watch cartoons,” she says with the biggest smile she possibly can.

“Okay, baby, go turn them on, and I’ll meet you on the couch. Mama needs coffee first,” I tell her with a smile.

She jumps up and runs out into the living room, excitement radiating off of her.

It’s adorable how something so simple as watching cartoons together on a Sunday morning can make her so happy. It makes me feel special, and I love it. I follow behind her but make a beeline for the kitchen. Coffee first, everything else second. Once I get the coffee started, I find myself lost in thought, still waking up.

Normally, on Sunday mornings when she’s here, I have her get everything ready to go back to her dad’s when she wakes up, and then I let her watch cartoons. But this morning, all I’ve been able to think about is how much I don’t want her going back to her dad’s every other week. She’s been complaining that she doesn’t see him much and that she’s usually at the house with a nanny or Lena.

The thought of Lena being with my child makes me furious. If I had my choice, she wouldn’t be able to be near my daughter, but of course, my only reasoning is that she’s a backstabbing ex-best friend who broke up a family.

It’s weird, lately, I haven’t been as angry about their betrayal as I was in the beginning. I’m sure it’s all just a part of the grieving process, but part of me wonders if the reason I’m not as angry lately might have something to do with my very friendly next-door neighbor, who I’m starting to have very friendly feelings for. The touchy-feely kind that I know will just get me in trouble. But maybe just this once, it’s okay to want to be bad because these feelings only spur on my fantasies, and my fantasies do a damn good job of making me cum, especially with big pink back in my life.

But I want the real deal. I want him. I want his body.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee is enough to snap me out of my daydreams. Filling my cup, I walk into the living room, where I find a snuggly Addy curled up in the blankets, fast asleep with Bluey on. When I snuggle in next to her, her eyes immediately pop open, wide awake.

“Morning, sleepy head,” I murmur into her hair as she snuggles into me.

“Morning, mommy,” Addy says, quieter than usual.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do I have to go to dad’s?” her tiny voice asks.

I feel like I’ve just been kicked in the stomach. My heart cracks at the sadness in her voice. Squeezing her tighter, I kiss her forehead.

“Oh, baby girl, I wish you didn’t have to,” I tell her truthfully. The thing about Addy is she’s very observant. Although it breaks my heart that she doesn’t have a relationship with her father, I truthfully don’t think she misses him. She misses the idea of a father who is present. Tom has never been that, so she really isn’t all that attached to him.

It breaks my heart but I’m also proud of her for being so strong. No child should have to be.

“Okay, mommy,” Addy sighs. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll try to get everything figured out.”

After a couple of hours of her favorite cartoons and some pancakes, we made the sad walk down to the lobby.

I really, really hate having to let her go. Look, I’m a firm believe that all children should get to spend time with both parents… if they act like an actual parent. He doesn’t. He only wants her, so I can’t have her, and then he sticks a nanny or his assistant with her, and that sucks for us. But now is not the time to bring that up.

Right now, I’m about to ask, no beg, if I can have Addy a day early for my birthday. It’s not until next month, but I want to make sure I’m providing enough time so he can’t complain that it was last minute.

As we walk out of the elevator, we see Tom standing in his usual spot directly by the door. He looks irritated as he ends a phone call and looks up to see us.

“Hi, Eleanor,” Tom sneers before turning to our daughter. “Hello, Addison. It’s nice to see you.”

“Same to you, dad,” she says, dragging her suitcase behind her as she walks over to him.

“Tom, may I speak with you?” I ask nervously, his eyes brightening just a bit.

“Of course, Eleanor. What is it?”

“So, uh, my birthday is the day before my week with Ellie,” I say, feeling like I’m tripping over my words.

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