Cherry || Andy Barber x Babysitter OC

3.

"What would you do if there was nothing holding you back?"

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ANDY'S POV

When I open my eyes I find the other half of the bed empty. I'm not surprised, my wife has the tendency to drink a bit too much when she hangs out with Mindy, and ends up spending the night at her place. She says she does it to avoid waking Jacob up, and that excuse might have worked when he was still a child, but he's almost a teenager now and we all know she only does it to escape from me; from our marriage. I only hope she remembers our couple's therapy appointment this afternoon. Or maybe not. I hate that shit.

Before picking my phone up I hear two voices downstairs: one is Jacobs', the other one I recognize it as Beatrice's. I feel like I see more the babysitter rather than my actual wife, even though we don't talk much. It's my fault, I try not to come across as a cold, distant prick but sometimes I just can't help it. All I do, I do it exclusively for my son. He's the only thing I care about; not my marriage, not my house, not my social life. It feels like I've been surviving rather than living the past couple years.

After finishing my shower I get dressed and decide to start my day, or more like force myself to. As I get to the living room, 2 sets of eyes lift up towards me. "Morning dad" My son greets me. Beatrice seems focused on my attire for a couple seconds before saying "Good morning Mr Barber".  She seems surprised; I think it's her first time seeing me wearing something other than a suit. I wonder what she thinks about me. And then I ask myself why do I care?

"Good morning. How are you?" I ask while I go towards the kitchen to prepare my first coffee of the day.

"Good! We were thinking of going to the park. It is such a nice day out." Answers Beatrice. She's always so sunny and chippery, how does she do that? I guess being 22 helps.

"That's good." I reply from beside the kitchen island that overlooks the living area where they are sitting.

"We're gonna get ice-cream at the kiosk. Do you want to come with us?" My son asks me. I always feel happy when he tries to include me in his activities, he really is a great kid.

"I'm afraid I can't, buddy. Your mom and I have something to do." He knows we have theraphy on wendsdays, and I have no problem talking about it, but I don't want to make Beatrice uncomfortable. Jacob seems to get the hint and nods at me. "Do you want us to bring home some ice-cream, Mr Barber?" She's very sweet. Too sweet, even. I notice she always calls me Mr Barber, even though I heard her call Laurie by name, probably because I never told her to call me Andy. I open my mouth to tell her just that, but something stops me, so instead I say "Sure. Let me give you some money to buy it." I make my way towards the bedroom to grab my wallet when I hear her say "It's totally okay, no need to do that. My treat. Well, I'll be paying with the money that you gave me yesterday so tecnically you're buying it." She tells me, smiling.

"Nonsense, you earned that money, therefore wait here and I'll be back with some cash to pay for ice-cream." My tone is firm, the same tone I use in court when I want to make something clear. She looks up at me with her big doe eyes and nods while saying "Alright. Thank you, Mr Barber." I smile, a small part of me is glad that she feels intimidated by me. It's not something I'm proud of: it's primal,  like feeling in control, feeling powerful. All this confidence leaves my body as soon as I notice how she's dressed; she's wearing a checkered pleated mini skirt that hugs her curves deliciously. Tucked inside the skirt she has a white shirt whose bottons are straining to remain still and not pop open exposing her generous breasts. The power that I was feeling a second ago seems to slip away from my body; I try to compose myself because I feel like I've been staring at her for the past minute without blinking once. Her face no longer looks intimidated, but rather amused. Like a deer caught in headlights, I clear my throat and head towards the stairs to grab the money I was talking about.