Page 2 of Family Like This

“Anything.”

“My mom… she isn’t really my mom anymore.” She sniffs again, but there’s no stopping her tears. I move closer, wrapping an arm around her back.

“What do you mean?”

“A couple of years ago, my mom was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s and some other mental health conditions. She’d started acting strangely, forgetting where she was, and struggling with speech. It was the paranoia that pushed me to get her checked out, though. She lives in a nursing home now. Some days she doesn’t know who I am, some days she thinks I’m her dead mother haunting her, some days she thinks I’m out to get her, and occasionally, she has good days where she’s almost like her normal self—but the mom who raised me is gone.”

She chokes back tears and my heart breaks for her.

“And you’ve been dealing with all of that alone?”

She shrugs. “My dad didn’t have any siblings, and my mom had a rough upbringing, so she cut off contact with her two siblings before I was born. Her dad left when she was a kid and her mom’s dead. My dad’s parents are both gone. There is no one else. No other family. Just me.”

I shake my head, sliding my hand into her hair and looking into her eyes.

“You’re not alone anymore. You have a family now, because you have me. No matter what.”

“Miles…”

“I mean it. It doesn’t matter if anything ever happens with us romantically, we are and will always be a family. You’re the mother of my child. We’re in this together. You’ve got me. Always. And I’m a package deal. I come with two bratty little sisters, a chill dad, a complicated but loving mother, and an entire cult’s worth of best friends. All of whom will take care of you, too.”

“You’re sure this is what you want?”

I search her face, then, against my better judgment, pull her to me, kissing her deeply before letting her go again.

“I want you. I understand if you’re not ready for that yet, but none of this changes how I feel about you. Other than maybe making me a little crazier for you than I already was. This isn’t how I thought I’d become a dad, but I want to be one. Getting to do it with you is just icing on the cake.”

I kiss her forehead, and she wipes her eyes.

“Drink some more water,” I tell her, handing her the bottle.

A faint smile appears. “Ugh, you’re going to be a bossy baby daddy, aren’t you? Always telling me what to do.”

I smile at that. “Yep. Your job is to grow our baby. My job is to protect and take care of you both.”

I grab my phone, open the notes app, and start making a list of things to do and check on.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Making a list. I want to get your car in the shop and have it looked over, just to make sure everything is good. I want to make a separate bank account for baby stuff that we can both access. Oh, I need to make sure all the forms I submitted to my job get switched, so you’re the beneficiary.”

She grabs my hand. “Miles.”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

I wish she wouldn’t ask me that.

Pulling at the collar of my shirt because it suddenly feels tight, I force a deep breath. “I have anxiety. Taking control of things helps me feel better.”

“Oh. Okay. Whatever you need to do.”

I stare at her for a second. I’m not sure why her reaction surprises me, but it does. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not… judging me or treating me like I’m fragile.”

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