Yours Truly

The Question

The green crayon squeaked against the page as his son leaned over his coloring book, tongue caught between his teeth in concentration. Jay's hand was still warm on my knee, grounding and dangerous at once.

For a moment, it almost felt like we'd survived the morning intact.

Then his son looked up, eyes wide and innocent.

"Daddy," he asked, pointing his crayon toward me, "is she gonna be my new mommy?"

The words landed with the force of a grenade.

Jay froze, his hand tightening on my knee before he pulled it back like he'd been burned. My breath caught in my throat.

"Hey, buddy—" Jay started, his voice hoarse, but his son tilted his head, waiting, expectant.

"I just mean..." he continued, quieter now, "'cause she's here. Mommy said you always have new friends. But you don't hug your friends like that."

My heart dropped.

The silence that followed was unbearable. Jay's jaw clenched, his shoulders squared, but he didn't answer right away. His son's small, searching eyes flicked between us, waiting for someone to tell him what this was.

"Your mom shouldn't—" Jay started, then broke off, dragging a hand through his hair like he could scrape the words off his tongue.

I wanted to say something, anything, to soften the sting, but my own chest was tight. Under the innocence of the question was Ariana's poison, already dripping into the cracks, already shaping the way his son saw me.

"I'm not—" The words tumbled out before I could stop them, too fast, too shaky. "I'm not here to replace anybody."

His son blinked, confused. "Then why are you here?"

Jay's head snapped toward me then, eyes sharp, as if begging me not to answer, not to say the thing that might unravel us.

The fault line trembled beneath our feet, daring us all to take the next step.

Jay leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "Buddy, Deja's just... someone important to me. You don't have to worry about her being your mommy. You already have one of those."

The little boy frowned, glancing back down at his coloring book, scribbling harder than before, the crayon threatening to snap in his grip. "But Mommy said..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. "Never mind."

The air turned thick, sticky with all the words none of us wanted to put into the open. Jay's son kept his head down, his shoulders tight, the way kids do when they're trying not to cry but don't want anyone to notice.

I shifted closer, lowering my voice to him. "You know, I think T-rexes were really protective. They took care of their families. Didn't let anybody mess with them."

He peeked up at me, suspicion in his eyes, but the faintest tug at the corner of his mouth gave him away. "Even the little ones?"

"Especially the little ones," I said, smiling. "Big teeth, big heart."

That earned me a tiny nod before he bent back over his page. Crisis averted, at least for him.

For me and Jay? Not even close.

⸻

When his son disappeared into the bedroom a few minutes later, dinosaur tucked under his arm, Jay and I were left alone in the living room. The silence wasn't comfortable this time, it pulsed, sharp around the edges.

"He's six," Jay muttered finally, his hands pressed into his knees. "He shouldn't even know how to ask a question like that."

"He knows because Ariana put it in his head," I said, before I could filter myself.

Jay's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. "Don't—"

"Don't what?" I shot back, heat rising in my chest. "Pretend like she's not the one pulling his strings? You heard him, Jay. 'Mommy said.' Those were his words, not mine."

His jaw flexed, but he didn't argue. That silence was worse than any fight. It told me I'd hit a truth he didn't want to face.

I exhaled, softer this time. "Look, I'm not trying to step into her role. I wouldn't do that to him, or to you. But if she's going to keep using me to make her point, you can't just... stand here hoping it goes away."

His eyes darkened, the frustration simmering into something hotter. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't wake up every day wondering how to protect him from her mess without tearing him in half?"

The words hung between us, raw and jagged.

"Jay..." I started, but he shook his head, pacing now. His hands raked through his hair again, a restless gesture that made him look younger and more worn at once.

"I'm trying, Deja," he said, his voice rough. "I'm trying to give him stability. I'm trying to give you—us—a chance. But it's like no matter what I do, Ariana's there. Knocking on my door. Whispering in his ear. Standing between us."

The confession cracked something in me, because it wasn't just frustration in his tone, it was exhaustion. The kind that comes from fighting a war you can't ever win cleanly.

I crossed the room, laying a hand on his arm. "You don't have to fight her alone."

He stilled, his eyes flicking down to where my fingers rested against his skin. "If you get pulled into this—"

"I already am," I cut in. "Whether we meant for it or not. She's not just testing you, Jay. She's testing me too."

For a moment, he just looked at me, as if trying to decide if I really understood what that meant. Then he sighed, the sound heavy, dragging the weight of the world with it.

"Then I need you to promise me something," he said, low and steady. "Promise me you won't let her get to you. That you'll stay no matter how messy it gets."

I wanted to say yes. The way his eyes begged me to, the way his shoulders seemed ready to collapse under the possibility of me saying no, it all pressed against me, hard.

But the truth wedged itself between us.

"Jay..." My voice was quiet. "I can't make that promise. Not yet."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he cupped the back of my neck, pulling me closer until his forehead rested against mine. "Then let me make it for both of us. I'm not letting her win."

The kiss that followed was desperate, almost reckless, like he was trying to prove something with every press of his mouth against mine. And for a heartbeat, I let him. I let myself believe in the heat, in the weight of his hands, in the promise that maybe love could be louder than chaos.

But even as my chest burned with wanting him, the words of his son echoed in my head. Is she gonna be my new mommy?

The ground beneath us trembled, fault lines widening, and I knew we were standing on borrowed time.

⸻

We pulled apart only when the bedroom door creaked open. His son stood there, dinosaur in one hand, rubbing his eyes with the other.

"I'm hungry," he mumbled.

Jay exhaled, steadying himself. "Alright, buddy. Let's get lunch started."

As he turned toward the kitchen, his son's voice piped up again, softer this time. "Daddy... don't let Mommy be mad at her. I like her."

The words punched harder than anything Ariana had thrown my way. My throat tightened, my chest aching as Jay froze mid-step.

He glanced back at me, and for the first time that day, his guard slipped completely. Vulnerability. Fear. Hope.

The fault line had split wide open, and all we could do now was see if we'd survive the fall.

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As a writer you'd think I wouldn't get choked up or have other feelings while writing. I often write my chapter and edit it later. While editing, it's like I'm reading it for the first time....

Idk if I want to say I hope you enjoyed this chapter because there was a lot of vulnerability.

Be on the lookout for the next part😘