"Is he asleep?"
I look up from my son's face to see my husband watching me.
All three of us have converged in my bedroom. Danny is sitting at the table in the center of the room, doing some paperwork, and Andrew and I are curled up on my big bed.
"Yes," I say. "I think he's worn out."
Danny smiles. "I know the feeling."
He looks back down at the papers in front of him and I'm struck by how, well, familial we must look.
Danny usually works at his desk in his office, but he seems to hate being out of Andrew's company for too long. Andrew and I had been laying in my bed, reading a story and winding down when Danny had stuck his head in the door, briefcase in hand.
"Hey," he had said, somewhat sheepishly.
"Daddy!" Andrew cried, holding out his arms for Danny,had who crossed over to the bed and scooped his son up in his arms.
I had smiled as I'd watched them hug, loving the expressions on both their faces.
"I have some work to finish up," Danny had said over Andrew's head. "Mind if I work on it in here?"
"Uh...no, of course not," I had said, flustered.
How could he be so calm and casual, standing in the same room where not even eight hours before, we'd shared such an explosive encounter?
I tried to push those thoughts from my head as I read to Andrew, but now that he's asleep, I feel like Danny and I are completely alone in the room.
Danny continues to scribble away on the sheet in front of him, his sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened.
I'm really not used to seeing him as a businessman, but I find I like the sight before me.
"When did you start wearing glasses?" I ask him, desperate to talk about anything.
He doesn't look up from his work. "I only wear them for reading. My eyes started to bother me about a year ago."
"Too many late nights, huddled over your desk?" I ask, surprised at the light, teasing tone of my voice.
"Something like that," he replies with a smile.
I look back down at Andrew and brush an errant curl from his forehead. "He looks like you the most when he's asleep," I comment softly.
Danny looks up. "Well, that's probably because he has your eyes and when he's asleep...um...they're closed."
He hastily looks back at the table.
"So you noticed that he has my eyes?" I hear myself say, wondering why that affects me so much.
"It's hard not to," Danny answers and for some odd reason, I feel a huge smile creep up my face.
To hide it, I nuzzle Andrew's cheek and he stirs slightly in sleep.
"I think he gave your cousin quite a time this afternoon," I say, glancing back up at Danny, who has taken off his glasses and is leaning back in his chair, watching us.
"Yeah," he says with a chuckle. "Ray's always been good with kids."
"Apparently," I say, loving this relaxed conversation. I almost feel like a normal wife and mother. "All Andrew talked about this evening was 'Way" this and 'Way' that."
Danny laughs. "So it's 'Way', huh? Well, 'Way' seems pretty fond of Andrew too. Of course," he adds, slipping his glasses back on and turning his attention again to his papers, "I'm not sure if it's Andrew's company Ray is enjoying so much, or Kathleen's."
I raise shocked eyes to my husband. "Kathleen? Danny, Ray's a priest!"
Danny nods. "Granted. But he's still a man and, last time I checked, Ray's not blind."
"Kathleen is barely twenty!" I insist indignantly. "And Ray is-"
"Twenty-five."
"And a priest!" I say again.
"Don't get too hung up on that, Michelle," Danny says with a strange smile. "We all have reasons for the things we do, reasons other people may not understand." That odd look is replaced by a more genuine smile before I can wonder what that cryptic statement meant. "And Ray was once quite the lady killer."
"More than you?" I say in a scoffing voice which makes Danny's smile grow.
"More than me and my brother put together."
Surprised, I sit up a little, careful not to disturb Andrew.
"You have a brother?"
"Had. He's dead."
"Oh," I say, my heart breaking for this man who's my husband and a stranger all at once. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." All traces of the relaxed Danny are gone as he gathers up his papers into his briefcase. "Mick was a drug dealer. Shit happens to people like that."
I watch in stunned disbelief as he rises to leave.
"How can you be so incredibly cold?" I blurt out angrily. "What the hell happened to you you to make you such a bastard?"
His eyes flicker. "This is how I've always been, Michelle."
I shake my head slightly. "No. I won't believe that. I know you. Or at least I knew the man you were."
"You knew the man I wanted you to know," he says in a voice so hard, I feel it like a blow.
I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, hating what he's said, but knowing it's probably true.
"I was right," I say at last. "You don't deserve our son."
His eyes rest on Andrew's sleeping form, and for a moment, I see a look of such pain on his face, it makes me catch my breath.
"You're right," he says flatly. "I don't. But I have him now and nothing is going to take him away from me."
His eyes bore back into mine and I shrink back a little. "Nothing."