Caving In

“Momma?” Mason questioned, his hazel eyes following me about the kitchen.

Opening the oven, I looked over my shoulder, “Yes baby?”

“What’s for supper?”

I chuckled, taking the tinfoil wrapped cake pan out of the oven, “Lasagna, your favorite.”

Mason gasped excitedly before he practically leapt from the bar stool and into the living room, passing Matt on his way out. Matt laughed, “What’s with Mace?”

“We are having his favorite for dinner,” I tried to smile but Lindsey’s words repeated themselves in my head. Matt still loves you.

“Oh,” Matt looked down.

“You don’t like lasagna anymore?” I asked, bringing the dish over to the counter to begin unwrapping it.

Matt shook his head, crossing the kitchen to stand beside me at the counter, “I just realized I don’t know anything about Mason,” his voice was quiet as he fiddled with his fingers.

“Matt, what are you talking about? You have spent every minute with him for the last month,” I laughed, slicing into the hot pasta.

He sighed, opening the cabinet door above my head to get plates down, “And yet I didn’t know what his favorite food was until you said it. I don’t know his favorite color, or his best friend’s name. I don’t even know what he wants to be when he grows up.”

“He’s six years old Matt, he wants to be a something new every day,” I chuckled, looking up at the hazel eyes. They were sad. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his thick stomach, pulling him close. His heart thudded loudly in his chest as he wrapped me up into his heavy arms. I know that I shouldn’t have, but in that moment I felt bad for him. He had missed some of the best moments with his son, but hadn’t he chosen that life? Hadn’t he walked out before Mason was born, never to be heard from again while he was out on the road? And yet, I couldn’t find it in my heart to hold it against him anymore. He was punishing himself more than I ever could. “His favorite color is blue,” I mumbled into his chest. Matt rested his cheek against the top of my head, smiling slightly as he listened. “His best friend’s name is Max, they went to preschool together and have been connected at the hip ever since. And as of the last time he told me,” I whispered, pulling away slightly to look up into his eyes. “He wants to be an astronaut.”

Matt’s hazel eyes were soft, “Thank you.”

Nodding, I pulled away to continue my work, “Could you grab Mason? Dinner will be on the table in a second.”

Matt left quickly, leaving me to my thoughts. Matt still loves you. Loves me as the mother of his child or his first love? Loves me because he is suddenly single again or because the feelings never stopped? I exhaled loudly, shoveling three servings of pasta onto plates. That man would be the death of me, as if it was his mission since he came by the apartment that day. But maybe the question wasn’t how he felt about me, but how I felt about him. I wasn’t angry with him anymore, as much as he may deserve it, I couldn’t bring myself to be resentful.

Mason squealed loudly from inside the living room, “Mommy!” he shouted.

A pair of loud footsteps marched their way into kitchen and as I turned, I had to bite my lip in order to hide my giggle. The small six year old was strung over his father’s shoulders easily, reminding me of a sack of potatoes. “I think you have a delivery, Ma’am,” Matt laughed, letting the boy slip down his chest to the floor.

Mason hugged my side, laughing as he peaked around my hip to grin at Matt. “Oh thank you, kind sir. What would I have done without my baby?” I played along, brushing a hand through Mason’s spiky blonde hair. “Go sit down, Bubba; I’ll bring you a plate.”

Mason followed Matt to the table and took a seat right next to his dad. He rambled on and on about something he had seen on the TV at some point during the day, talking Matt’s ear off. Matt simply smiled, nodding as he listened to the little boy, his little boy, rant. I brought the plates over quickly, grinning at the two of them. Mason stopped suddenly, looking up from the plate to Matt. “Daddy, will you teach me how to cut it?”

Matt’s eyes widened as I took a seat across from them, “Uh, sure buddy,” he agreed, slinging a tattooed arm around his son’s shoulders to grip the little hand holding a fork. He cleared his throat, “Okay first, turn your fork to the side. Yup, just like that,” Matt smiled, watching as Mason’s brow began to frown in concentration. “Now just push down,” he paused, letting Mason do as instructed. “There you go bud, now you know how.”

Mason grinned up happily, “Thank you Daddy.”

I couldn’t keep the smile away this time, the moment simple but so important to the both of them. My heart clenched deep inside my chest, it was then that I knew.

Mason was done long before Matt and I, abandoning us at the table to return to the toys that sprawled across the living room floor. He had become insanely spoiled since we moved back in with Matt, but we never let it get to his head. His father had the money to buy him the nicest things, but Mason knew all of those nice new things could be taken away if he misbehaved.

“That was really sweet of you,” I said quietly as Matt helped himself to a second plate.

Matt smiled, his dimples cutting deep into his cheeks, “I love that kid.”

My heart skipped a beat. Love. “I talked to Lindsay today,” I announced, pulling my leg up onto the chair and hugging it close to my chest.

Matt’s fork stopped half way to his mouth, his lips slightly agape. He put the fork back down, his eyes staying low on the table in front of him. “Oh really?”

I nodded, trying to calm my racing heart. “Yeah, she uh…she told me, Matt.”

He sighed, folding his hands as he rested his elbows on the table, “And?”

“You still love me?” My voice was soft, no more than a whisper.

Matt paused, “Every second of the day. Always have. Always will.”

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the blush that had crept up from my neck. “How can you be so blunt?”

He shrugged, his eyes finally meeting mine across the table, “I told you, I have nothing to hide.”

It was my time to hide as I got up, grabbing mine and Mason’s plates. I found myself all but running to the sink to rinse them off. Do I tell him how I feel? Do I even know how I feel? Before I could finish my thoughts, a warm hand closed around my upper arm, spinning me around. Matt pinned my back to the sink with his hips, a hand finding its way to delicately trace an invisible line up to my chin. “I love you,” he murmured, leaning down to press his thin, soft lips to my own. I immediately responded, bringing my arms around his neck and drawing him closer. The kiss wasn’t rushed, or lust filled, but it was passionate and it finally hit me just how much I had missed this man. He pulled away, placing his forehead against my own as he tried to catch his breath.

My heart slammed loudly against my ribs as I felt my knees grow weaker, “I love you too, Mattie.”