Kody wails again, head bumping against my collarbone as he pats my boob and grabs on to my shirt. “I think I’m going to have to feed him again before I do anything else. This is his witching hour. He’s tired, but he’s hungry.”

“What can I do to help? Can I feed him?”

“I’ve got the feeding part covered.” I motion to my boobs.

“Oh, right.” RJ’s gaze drops and his eyes flare, cheeks flushing. “Should I start on dinner, then?”

“Sure. It’s on the counter. Let me show you where the pots are. I was thinking the pasta puttanesca would be nice.”

He follows me to the kitchen, and I show him where the pots and pans are. I check the recipe—the meals come with directions—and then I leave him to get started while I settle in the chair in the living room to feed Kody.

He latches on quickly, always extra hungry in the evenings, like he’s been waiting all day for my boob because a bottle just isn’t the same. I smooth out his dark, thick hair, trying to settle the cowlick, which keeps curling back up.

“Hey, Lainey, can I get you something to—oh shit, sorry!”

I look up to find RJ standing in the middle of the living room, eyes comically wide and focused on where Kody is latched on to my breast, one hand splayed protectively over the swell.

“I, uh . . . I wanted to see if I could get you something to drink, but you’re booby, I mean busy. I mean—sorry.” RJ blinks a bunch of times and averts his gaze, but he doesn’t seem to be able to help the way his eyes keep darting back to me and my exposed breast.

“Water would be nice, actually.”

“Okay. I can get you that. I’ll be right back.” He returns a minute later, setting the glass on the table beside me while trying to keep his eyes anywhere but me and failing completely.

I touch the back of his hand. “There’s a privacy blanket over there, if it would make you more comfortable.”

He looks at me and then down again and back up. “What?”

“I can cover up if it makes you uncomfortable. For now, anyway,” I amend.

He licks his lips. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Then don’t cover up for my sake.” His eyes stay on mine, and a wry grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. “It’s more envy than discomfort at this point, anyway.”

I blush, not knowing what to say, but pleased he’s still attracted to me.

He heads back to the kitchen.

Kody snuffles, and his hand flexes on my breast. “Don’t worry, little man, they’re all yours for at least another six months.” Although it’s nice to be reminded that I won’t be a feed bag forever.

Dinner is almost ready by the time Kody’s done feeding. He’s sleepy and sated, at least for now, so I settle him in his swing, turn on the lullaby track, and join RJ for dinner at the dining room table, which I rarely use. I get two bites in before Kody starts fussing.

“Sorry, he gets cranky around this time in the evening. He doesn’t really like to be put down until he’s ready for bed.” I pick him up and cradle him in one arm so I can soothe and eat at the same time.

“I could hold him while you eat,” RJ offers.

“It’s okay. I’m used to doing most things one handed these days. The fact that I’m eating something that’s still warm is actually a treat.”

RJ sets his fork down. “I get to eat hot food all the time, with both hands. I really wouldn’t mind holding him. Please?”

I realize then that he hasn’t even had a chance to hold him once yet. Yesterday I was scared of what I stand to lose by bringing RJ into our lives. But I can see that he’s trying, and I can also see that despite the lies he told me, he’s still kind and considerate and trying his best—so I need to try my best too, even if I’m still afraid.

Besides, this isn’t about just me anymore. It’s about Kody growing up with a father he knows and who loves him, and I need to give RJ the chance to be that, if it’s what he truly wants. I can’t freeze him out because of my own fears, even if in some ways they’re valid. His lies make sense now that I’ve seen what his life is like, and I might not like what he did, but at least he’s not making excuses. And he’s not running the other way or throwing money at me to keep me quiet. He wouldn’t be sitting across from me at my dining room table, after cooking dinner he bought, if he weren’t trying to show he’s invested.

“Of course.” I kiss Kody’s forehead as I push back my chair and stand. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to let you hold him before now—it’s just that I’m so used to having him all to myself. It’s been him and me against the world.”

“I can understand that.” RJ smiles up at me.

I return the grin, directing him how to position his arms and cradle Kody’s head.

He looks so tiny in RJ’s arms. I stand back and press my fingers to my lips, fighting tears as I watch RJ’s face light up with wonder. Kody makes a plaintive little noise, eyes darting to me. I stroke his warm cheek. “It’s okay, baby,” I coo. “This is your daddy.”

I grab my phone from the side table where I left it and snap a few pictures of RJ and Kody before I sit down and resume eating. RJ’s full attention is on our son, who has discovered his finger and keeps trying to eat it. Once I’m finished, RJ reluctantly passes him back. Kody snuggles right into my neck, one hand resting possessively on my boob. I sniff his head, taking in his baby scent and now the faint smell of RJ’s cologne.

After we’re finished with dinner, I pass Kody back to RJ and clean up the kitchen while he cuddles him. It’s sweet and wonderful and confusing—because it makes me hopeful.

Once the kitchen is tidied and the leftovers are put away, I open the bottle of wine and pour us each a glass, although mine is modest since I’ll need to feed Kody again around midnight. Usually I’d put him in his crib at this point in the evening, but I don’t want to take him from RJ, especially when they’re so enthralled with each other. Kody can’t seem to take his eyes off RJ, and he giggles every time RJ makes a face or tickles his little feet. While Walter seems to enjoy Kody, he never really settles with him, not like this.

Once RJ is seated, I help make him more comfortable by propping his arm up with a cushion. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, much. Thanks.” He smiles. “You’re great at this—you know that, right?”

“Not really. I’m just figuring things out as I go.”

“That’s kind of how parenting is, though, isn’t it?”

“Seems that way.”

I spend the next half hour opening the various boxes RJ sent. There are clothes—most of which won’t fit Kody for a few more months—toys, a new top-of-the-line stroller I drooled over when I was pregnant but knew I’d never be able to afford. There’s even a sweet little hockey jersey with “Bowman” and RJ’s number on the back—and a teddy bear with a matching jersey that’s almost the same size as Kody.

“You went a little overboard,” I say as I survey the empty boxes and the pile of new clothes and toys.