Page 43 of Unravel Me

Brandon’s shoulder pops up and down, eyes never leaving the TV. “Hour or so.”

“Seems like he just wanted some cuddles.”

His gaze flicks to me, eyes rolling. “He needs to learn he doesn’t get everything he wants by crying.”

“He’s ababy, Brandon. He can’t regulate his emotions. He’s crying because he wants comfort, and we’re his safe place.” I press my lips to Connor’s hair and rub his back, rocking him back and forth. “He just wants to be close to us. He wants interaction.”

“I’m not a TV show. I don’t always wanna entertain him.”

“You think I want to entertain him every minute? It’s hard and exhausting, but we chose to have a baby, so we do it.”

“I didn’t choose shit.”

I stop bouncing as the color leaves my face. “What did you say?”

He sighs, setting his bottle down so he can sit up and drag both hands through his hair and down his face. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

He leaps to his feet, arms wide. “It’s too much! He’s too much! All he does is cry until you come back. He takes forever to get to sleep, and I lose my own sleep because of him. I just…I don’t…” He tugs his hair, spinning away from me.

“Be very careful of your next words,” I warn lowly. “You’ve walked out on him once, just to crawl back a month later. If you do it again, you won’t be welcome back. He deserves to have people in his life who love him.”

Brandon spins on me, pointing at me with a threatening finger. “Don’t do that. I love him. He knows I do.”

Then act like it, I want to scream. Instead, I walk away, pull open his door, and glance back at him. “He deserves to be surrounded by people who want to be in his life, no matter how challenging the days can be.”

* * *

That has gotta be a nine-inch dong, at least. Maybe ten.

Do ten-inch penises exist? They must, because I’m almost certain this man is packing one.

Jesus, I wonder if his back hurts carrying that around between his legs all day.

Unless it’s padding. I’ve heard they do that sometimes, fluff the junk up with padding to make it look extra big.

But no, I don’t think so. No, the arrogant, confident look in this man’s piercing green eyes says,I’ve got a huge dick and I know it.

Connor’s as fixated as I am. He reaches out, laying his tiny hand over the photo of the man’s package. The size difference is so alarming, it’s comical.

“Connor, buddy.” I take his hand and guide him back toward the bench in the bus shelter, turning my laugh into a cough. “We don’t touch other people’s bodies, even if it’s just a picture.” A gigantic picture of a gigantic dong, tucked in a tight pair of boxer briefs.

Seriously, who the hell decided a bus shelter was a good place for an underwear ad? I don’t care if the man is—I squint at the words—God’s gift to hockey, women, and underwear. What does that even mean? I bet the model doesn’t even know. He heard his monster dick would be on display and jumped at the chance.

The rumble of an engine sounds, and Connor’s head snaps up before he races toward the sidewalk. “Brum, brum!”

I grab the stroller and follow along, but it’s not the bus.

“Tuck,” Connor states proudly, pointing at the midnight blue truck as it approaches. “Bigtuck!” He waves both hands, bouncing on his toes. “Whoooa! Hi, big tuck!”

The truck pulls to a stop beside us, and a man with a grin as devastatingly handsome as it is sheepish hops out.

“Well, hey there, little buddy,” Adam says, crouching in front of Connor. “Remember me?”

“Dada!” Connor leaps at Adam, wrapping his tiny arms around his wide shoulders. When Adam laughs and lifts him into the air, something happens inside me.

It’s the strangest thing, like something mending and unraveling all at once. I feel a pull toward a future I’ve always dreamt of, a stability I’ve craved and been deprived of for too long. And yet I’m ready to throw away nearly everything I know, all that I’ve worked for, for the smallest taste of this man, to feel his hands coast the valleys of my body, to make every inch of me come alive. Because, God, I feel alive with him, and all he’s doing is standing there, holding my world in his arms, looking at us like we might be his.

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