#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

concern for the kids we had forgotten completely about his clothes. At once, we

do something about that.”

from the shelf. Victor hands me his shirt

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

think me an impatient man?” He says, and

“I’m not sure I think of you as a patient man. But really, that was some

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 I hold the wet shirt out to him, hoping – ridiculously – that he doesn’t see my

too much 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

laughs softly, seeing my reaction. He takes the shirt and hands me the pants. Quick as I

you, Evelyn,” he says. “it’s nice to see you

out of the fine grey fabric. “I’m just…busy.” I finish, pathetically. He laughs again

he has any reason to be. I can’t help myself as my eyes dart quickly up and

Victor says, mercifully changing the subject. “Thank you for letting me help.” I smile and

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

Here,” I wet

my meaning and, instead of taking it from me, bares his neck so that I can reach. “Can you get it all?” He asks. “I think

his arm and pull slightly, asking him to turn, which he does. As I clean off the back

my lip even harder, it is unfair for a guy

jump as Victor says my name. “Did

towards me, and I suddenly realize how close he is

“Did you get it?”

at him, meeting his eyes. “yeah I….got

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

full of rage, of life, of confidence – of hunger for what she is owed. Here I am, standing in my bathroom, blushing in front of

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