#Chapter 24 – An Impatient Man

Victor surprises me by being helpful and efficient as we get the boys cleaned up and settled back into bed. For a man who has had an army of housekeepers his whole life, he proves himself very capable of stripping a bed of its sick-covered sheets and cleaning up vomit.

After Alvin has finally drifted off to sleep, Victor places a clean plastic trash can next to his bed, “just in case,” and comes over to where I am giving Ian a little cuddle, helping him drift off.

“Is he asleep?” Victor questions, perching on the end of the bed.

“I’m noooooot,” Ian protests, and we both laugh softly. He’ll be asleep in moments. When he finally drifts off, I carefully pull my arm out from beneath him and stand up. I gesture silently towards the door and Victor takes my meaning. We both step out.

“Thank you,” I say, pulling their door shut. “That was…a lot easier, with an extra set of hands.”

Victor studies me for a moment, leaning against the wall. “I never thought about that,” he says. “You cleaning up after both of them at once, on nights like this. That must have been…a challenge.”

I smile gently, laughing. “You should have seen them when they had colic, as babies. I don’t think I slept for months. When one cried, the other would wake up and cry too, in solidarity.” I laugh harder, pressing my hand against my check at the memory. God, what a time.

Victor doesn’t join me in laughing but instead stays serious. “You should have told me, Evelyn. I could have helped you. I could have…had those times.” He looks away from me, trying to hide it, but I can still see the sadness on his face.

Those were hard times, but I wouldn’t have given them up for anything. And Victor didn’t have even the option to see those times because I kept them from him. I feel the guilt gnaw at me.

“I’m sorry, Victor,” I say. “But you don’t know what it was like…the fear, that you would find out, and take them from me. My boys, the only thing I had…”

Victor glares at me for a moment, “I wouldn’t have –“

I raise my eyebrow and he stops, thinking, and then sighs. “Yes,” he says. “I would have. I would have taken them away. I understand.”

I nod and reach out to put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s move on from it, Victor. Forgive each other. What’s done is done – we both have them now, we can raise them together.”

Victor nods and gives me a smile. Then, suddenly, I realize that my hand is touching something wet and sticky.

it’s covered in Ian’s vomit. “Oh, gross, you’ve got

concern for the

nodding towards my bathroom. “We’ve got to do something about that.” He follows me in, starting to

Victor hands me his shirt and I douse it

work. “Thank

you think me an impatient man?” He says, and I hear him working

considering. “I’m not sure I think of you as a patient man. But

shirt in my hands, ready to take the next item of clothing, and am shocked to suddenly see Victor, standing there, in my bathroom, in his boxer briefs. My face turns beat red and I clear my throat, looking down as

had been thinking about was getting the vomit out of a set of clothes, not giving attention

my reaction. He takes the shirt and hands me the pants.

nice

pathetically. He laughs again and I turn towards him, determined. Unfortunately, I’m sure that a little bit of the

be. I can’t help myself as my eyes dart quickly up and

in there too,” Victor says, mercifully changing the subject. “Thank you for letting me

above the sink and scoffs. “God, it’s everywhere,” he says, moving closer to inspect the vomit that clings to the skin of his neck and chest. “How did he

Here,” I wet a washcloth and move forward,

and, instead of taking it from me, bares his neck so that I can reach. “Can you get it all?” He asks. “I think there’s some even around back, though I

his chest, his neck. I put a hand on his arm and pull slightly, asking him to turn, which he does. As I clean off the

think, biting my lip even harder, it is unfair for a guy to have

jump as Victor says my name. “Did you

and I suddenly realize how close he is to me, inches

“Did you get it?”

say, staring up at him, meeting his

other in that moment, time ticking by, neither of us moving. All of a sudden I’m shocked to realize that six years have passed, that I’m a mother, a therapist, and a Rogue – that I’m not, in fact, a twenty-two-year-old girl at the

me back to that moment and, suddenly, I miss the girl I was. So full of rage, of life, of confidence – of hunger for what she is owed.

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