Lost in madness

49

Dabe

The soft sound of running water from our en-suite bathroom did nothing to calm my racing thoughts.

"I didn't think it was a big deal," Christian's voice carried over the sound of him brushing his teeth. "I hate the idea too, but he's still Nico's father."

My stomach clenched, Christian running into Andrew at a business meeting seemed too convenient, too orchestrated. I sat up against the headboard, pulling my knees to my chest.

"You didn't think to talk to me first before inviting my ex over for dinner?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but frustration seeped through.

"First of all, I didn't think you would care for a harmless dinner."

"How would you feel if I invited Maria over to the house?"

The water stopped running.

"Do you see how that is a problem? How could you do something like that without informing me first?"

There was a pause before Christian responded, his voice muffled slightly. "I'm sorry, I requested as a polite gesture. I didn't know he would actually take it."

But I knew better. Andrew never did anything without calculation, without purpose. He was trying to mess with my life, with the careful order I'd created for myself and Nico. The life that now included Christian.

The bathroom door opened, releasing a cloud of steam. Christian emerged, wearing his usual sleep shorts and a concerned expression. His dark hair was still damp from his shower, and despite my irritation, my heart did that familiar little flip it always did when I looked at him.

"Again, I'm sorry," he said, crossing the room to stand beside my side of the bed. His eyes, warm and earnest, met mine. "You're right. I should've talked to you first." He reached for my hand, his thumb brushing over my wedding ring. "Now, can we stop talking about your ex? I'm starting to get an erk."

"I can't believe you right now."

"Again, I'm sorry. If you like we could invite Maria over so we are even."

The corner of my mouth twitched. "Don't even joke about that."

"I'm kidding... Now can we go back to the night I planned for us?" A slow smile spread across his face – the kind that still made my knees weak – before he leaned down and kissed me. Without warning, he slipped his arms around me and lifted me, making me squeal in surprise.

"Christian!" I laughed against his mouth as he carried me to the center of the bed. My arms wrapped around his neck, and I tried to focus on the present moment, on the feeling of his lips on mine, rather than the worried thoughts that kept trying to creep in.

"There's a buggy man under my bed."

The small voice from our doorway made us both freeze. We turned to see Nico standing there in his Batman pajamas, clutching his stuffed elephant with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other. Christian and I exchanged glances and laughed, the tension from our earlier argument dissipating.

"Come here," Christian called, patting the space between us. My heart swelled watching how naturally he'd taken to being a stepfather, how much he genuinely cared for our son.

Nico didn't need to be told twice. He scrambled onto the bed, his little feet cold against my legs as he burrowed between us. "There's no buggy man, buddy," Christian assured him, tucking the covers around all three of us.

"I'm scared," Nico whispered, his brown eyes wide in the dim light from the bedside lamp. They were so much like his father's that sometimes it hurt to look at them.

Christian propped himself up on one elbow, his expression serious. "It's okay, I'm here. Mummy and I are going to save you from Mr. Buggy Man." He made a show of looking under the covers and around the room. "In fact, I think Mr. Buggy Man is terrified of your mum. She's the bravest person I know."

Nico giggled, snuggling closer to me. "Really?"

"Really really," Christian winked at me over Nico's head.

"It's time to sleep, buddy," I said softly, leaning down to kiss his forehead. I closed my eyes and said our nightly prayer, the same one my mother used to say to me.

Reaching over, I switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness save for the soft glow of the nightlight in the hallway. As Nico's breathing evened out between us, I found myself staring up at the ceiling again, sleep eluding me.

Christian's hand found mine in the dark, his fingers intertwining with mine across our sleeping son. "I really am sorry about the dinner thing, I could call to cancel if you insist," he whispered.

"I know," I whispered back, squeezing his hand. "But it's already... complicated." I stopped abruptly.

"Talk to me?"

I turned my head to look at him, barely visible in the dim light. "Andrew has a way of... inserting himself into situations. Making everything about him. When we were dating, he..." I paused, searching for the right words. "He had to control everything. Every decision, every interaction. I don't want him trying to control this too. I like this, I like what we have. .. I just don't want him to ruin it."

Christian was quiet for a moment. "I won't let him," he finally said, his voice firm but gentle. "We're a team now, the three of us. Whatever game he's trying to play, we'll handle it together."

I wanted to believe him. God, how I wanted to believe him. But as I lay there in the dark, listening to Nico's soft snores and feeling Christian's thumb rubbing soothing circles on my hand, I couldn't shake the feeling that Andrew's sudden appearance in our lives after 8 months wasn't a coincidence.

The ceiling fan continued its endless circles above us, and I counted each rotation, trying to quiet my mind. Eight months of marriage, eight months of happiness and stability and love. I'd fought too hard for this peace to let Andrew disturb it. Whatever he was planning, whatever his agenda was, I had to be ready.

But that was tomorrow's battle. Tonight, in the darkness of our bedroom, with my son's warm body curled against me and my husband's hand anchoring me to the present, I tried to focus on what I had rather than what I feared losing. I turned onto my side again, careful not to wake Nico, and watched Christian's chest rise and fall in the darkness.  The buggy man wasn't under the bed, but my own monsters were proving harder to banish, especially the ones in my heart.