I blew out my cheeks, taking a moment to think. “Next time, protect without hitting. Try to get help first. Only switch over to plan B if plan A fails.”

“What’s plan B?” He ran his fingers through his hair. He’d inherited those thick, dark locks from his father.

“Kick his ass.” I gave him a knowing smile.

I’d blame my words on my stepbrother. He lived in the land of the morally gray, often taking justice into his own hands. If I didn’t know any better, I’d believe Easton and I did share blood since my son was so much like him.

I earned my son’s approval with that comment. His lips twitched into a quick smile that came and went fast. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you losing your job.” He placed his hand on his chest, emphasizing his sincerity. “Then we’ll have to move, and you know how much I don’t want to leave. This is our home now.”

After I’d applied for and landed the job I never thought I’d get, we’d moved here this past January. “New York is just so different from what we’re used to, but yes, I know how much you want to live here. And if you’re happy, I’m happy.” Just stay out of trouble. “I suppose it is starting to grow on me.”

The New York skyline was becoming a comforting blanket wrapped around us. I never thought I’d feel that way so fast, but it was happening anyway.

I ate up the space between us and touched his shoulder.

“I love you.” I needed him to know I’d always be there for him, no matter what. We were all we had, and I was beginning to think that’d never change. I’d never find a father for him, and he’d made it clear from a young age that he didn’t want a replacement for his biological one.

He hugged me, and I resisted crying into his shoulder. I’d save those tears for when I was alone at night. I’d let the guilt and sadness come back to me when I thought about the letters he wrote to Santa as a kid, asking for his father as his Christmas present.

He stopped believing in Santa, and maybe God, too, when his letters and prayers always went unanswered. It broke my heart. And it was my fault. All because of three wild hours at twenty-one, playing a game of “strangers in the night” on a tropical island.

My mystery man and I hadn’t been reckless. We’d used protection. But condoms weren’t a hundred percent effective, which I realized when I was four weeks pregnant. So, I’d said goodbye to medical school and my dream of becoming a doctor and welcomed motherhood.