I blanched at the painful memory. Here in this room, we were once happy…and even felt almost like a famil—.

No. I shook the thought from my head. My issues with Logan didn’t matter today. I was here to see Oliver.

“Are you listening to yourself? You know she’ll only hurt him!”

My head twisted back toward the entryway of the room as Julia’s voice filtered in. She sounded furious, and the stomping heading in my direction confirmed it.

“It’s my decision to make, Julia, not yours.”

My posture stiffened. Logan.

Focusing on Oliver, who was on the floor in front of me playing with Scout, I frowned. His head dropped low, and it was painfully obvious his little ears were perked.

“I’m sure everything’s fine,” I tried to reassure him with a soft smile. “Grown-ups sometimes forget it’s not nice to yell.”

He shrugged. “Aunt Julia’s mad at Daddy. They yell a lot now.”

My heart broke for him. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Julia loves your daddy very much.”

He looked up at me, then glanced warily to the doorway, listening. The air around us quieted as the muffled voices moved deeper into the house.

Thank God. Oliver didn’t need to hear them fighting, especially if my instincts were spot on and it was about Natasha.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Oliver asked quietly, looking back at me with bright eyes.

“Of course.”

He jumped to his feet, and in a flash was sitting on the arm of the chair beside me. He leaned his tiny frame in, cupping my ear, and whispered, “Mommy came back for me.”

He knew. I wanted to be happy for him. Perhaps Natasha was ready to be a mother; she was so young when she had him. I didn’t know the woman, so maybe I was wrong, but my stomach still clenched—not at the thought of Oliver having his mother back in his life, but at the concern that Natasha wouldn’t be the mother he was hoping for.

I hoped I was wrong.

“Have you seen her?” I asked, concern heavy in my voice. I tried to hide it beneath my smile. Just the thought of Natasha prancing back into their lives to fill the role of mother…of more…left me weary. But maybe it would be good for Logan and Oliver, and maybe it would help me move on. I only wanted to see them both happy.

“No, but they talk about her all the time now. I hear them.” He frowned. “They want her to go away.  She won’t, right?”

What could I say? How could I ease his worry? I rubbed my hand down his arm and squeezed his hand. “I don’t know, but no matter what, your daddy’s here.”

I couldn’t lie to him. I knew what it felt like to be young and out of the loop from when my father left. It was sometimes worse than the truth.

His head shook and pulled his hand away before running across the room to catch Scout. When he finally caught the pup, I heard him tell him in a hushed confidence, “She won’t leave. I know it.”

Before I could offer him some words of comfort, our attention was pulled to the heavy sigh heaved in our direction. I glanced up to see Julia standing in the entryway.

“Hey, we didn’t hear you come in, sorry.” She walked into the room and slouched down on the couch across from me.

“It’s all right, Oliver let me in. I told Logan noon, and—”

“Ugh! I hope you can talk some sense into him!”

I looked down at Oliver, who was lying on his stomach a few feet away, his tiny bare feet kicking the air as he played tug of war using a toy Scout held in his mouth.

Julia noticed and ran her hands down her face, then rested them under her chin. “You need to try and talk some sense into Logan, please. He has to understand why it’s a bad idea to let you-know-who back in.”

Julia must not have known that Oliver was well aware of whom she was speaking about. I wanted to grab his hand and take him outside, away from it all, but I couldn’t. He’d have to face it someday.

“I’m sure Logan will make the right decision,” I replied in a hushed voice.

She scoffed. “In case you haven’t noticed yet, Logan rarely makes the right decision.”

“I thought you were leaving.” Logan entered the room, and I couldn’t find the strength to look up at him. His rough voice vibrated through my chest, sending chills up my spine.

“I am!” Julia pushed off from her spot on the couch and strolled over to Oliver, then bent down to whisper something in his ear. He nodded, smiling.

“I love you, little guy.” Julia placed a kiss on top of his wavy hair. She stood, scowling at Logan, and then turned to me. “Talk to him.”

What was I supposed to say to Logan? Oliver was his son.

With that, she walked away, and I was left with a perplexed Logan searching my expression. His hair was disheveled, and I wondered how many times he’d run his hands through it that morning.

The loose, light-wash jeans he’d matched with a thin black T-shirt were casual and easy. They’d been thrown on with no thought; his sex appeal didn’t take work. The muscles in his chest tightened when he reached down and ran his hand over Oliver’s head, sharing a loving smile with his son.

“Sorry, I came early. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Never apologize, Cassandra.” He sat in the same spot Julia had occupied, his attention trained on his son, laughing as Scout yapped when Oliver overpowered him and held up the toy. “We’re just honored you came over, right Oliver?”

“We missed you,” Oliver answered, not looking at either of us.

“I missed you too, so thank you for having me over.” I smiled. “Now, you haven’t told me: how’s school going? Must be nice to be back after Christmas break.”

I wished I was able to go back myself, but I was out until March. I hated it, but had agreed it was for the best. Attempting to keep up with a group of five-year-olds wouldn’t help me heal any faster.

“Fine.” His tone dropped. That didn’t sound good. Last I remembered, he couldn’t stop talking about school.

“Did something happen?”

Oliver sat petting Scout, a contemplative stare in his eyes, before opening up. “Brody said he was Leo’s friend, but Leo don’t like me. He never talks to me.”

“Ahh, I see.” I smiled over at Logan, who was relaxing back in the sofa, listening. “You know, some kids are shy and don’t talk a lot. Maybe you can try talking to him and then you can be his friend too.”

Oliver looked up, thinking it over. “He does have a really cool dinosaur T-shirt.” His face brightened. “I like dinosaurs too.”

Logan and I both laughed.

“See, so it sounds like you just need to try and talk to him.”

“Okay.”

I laughed again at his easy agreement. Ah, to be a kid again.

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up for lunch, Oliver?” Logan spoke up after a few comfortable minutes of silence.

Oliver smiled at me. “I’ll be right back. Daddy made mac and cheese, ‘cause you love it just like me!” He grabbed Scout and ran out of the room.

Logan sat up on the sofa, his hands kneading the back of his neck. He sighed, then looked over at me with a thin smile. “Thanks for coming. He’s been so worried, and I’ve been—”