#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.

hand away, realizing that it’s covered in Ian’s vomit. “Oh, gross,

realizing, together, that in our concern for the kids we had forgotten completely about

to do

shelf. Victor hands me his shirt and I douse it in the hot water, scrubbing to get the sick and the

them tonight,” I say as I work. “Thank you – you were more patient, than I thought you could

think me an impatient man?” He says, and I hear him working at the buckle

not sure I think of you as a

in my bathroom, in his boxer briefs. My face turns beat red and I clear my throat, looking down as I hold the wet

in this moment. All I had been thinking about was getting the vomit out of a set of clothes, not giving attention to the fact that this would – of course

me the pants. Quick

says. “it’s nice to see you flustered for

mess out of the fine grey fabric. “I’m just…busy.” I finish, pathetically. He laughs again and I turn towards him, determined. Unfortunately, I’m sure that

he has any reason to be. I can’t help myself as my eyes dart quickly up and down his. Victor’s musculature is lean, less

the

in the mirror above the sink and scoffs. “God, it’s everywhere,” he says, moving closer to inspect the vomit that clings to

knows,” I say. “Sick kids are magicians. Here,” I wet a washcloth and move forward, offering

that I can reach. “Can you get it

hand on his arm and pull slightly, asking him to turn, which he does. As I clean off the back of his neck, my eyes drift

is unfair for a

as Victor says my name. “Did you get it

towards me, and I suddenly realize how close he

“Did you get it?”

at him, meeting

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 Alpha party, seeing

hunger for what she is

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