Dylan was asleep on the couch. After having the door slammed in his face, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he deserved it.
He was woken by a knock on the door. He made his way to the half-asleep and half-naked. There was another knock.
"Alright, yeah. I'm coming, hold your horses."
When he opened the door, he was face to face with Cole. He had yet to meet him in person; he had only seen him in photos. Yep, I hate him. Not only is he Navy, but he has been playing father to my son.
"We don't have any horses. You're funny, Mr. Dylan. How's it going? Did you miss me? "
"Oh, every second of everyday Sport." Dylan rubbed the mess of curls on Asher's head.
Asher playfully slapped his hand. "Mr. Dylan, respect the do!"
Dylan couldn't help but laugh.
Cole cleared his throat. "So, Mr. Dylan, what are you doing in my wife's living room wearing nothing but you, Calvin Clines?"
"Well, Cole, she is your soon-to-be ex-wife, and just like Cutler used to, I have to stay here on occasion for work purposes."
"Then shouldn't you be in your apartment?"
"I fell asleep on the couch watching a movie."
"Half-naked?"
"Cole, none of this is your business."
"When it concerns my wife and my son, it is my business."
"I think we both know that that statement is completely wrong on so many levels."
Asher had been watching the two men go back and forth. "I'm going to go get a juice box, if that's okay, Mr. Dylan?"
The two men had forgotten the little boy was standing there.
"Sure, Sport. I was going to make Mom breakfast in bed. Do you want to help?"
"Yes! I can make toast. I make the best toast, don't I, Dad?"
"Yes, Son, you do."
Asher dropped his Paw Patrol bookbag and took off into the kitchen.
"Slow down, Sport! Don't slip on the floor!"
Dylan turned to Cole.
"Breakfast in bed? For Mom?"
"Yeah, she's still asleep, yet another reason I answered the door."
"I should have never hired you." Cole shook his head. "This is not how shit was supposed to go down. I hired you to piss her off and make her life miserable, and here you are naked and about to make her breakfast."
Dylan thought about the door that was slammed in his face last night. Oh, trust me, she is not miserable, she is pissed and sexually frustrated. "I'm not naked, and what I do for her... or to her is none of your business anymore."
"Listen, you piece of Army shit, don't touch her. It took me a long time to beat her down and build her back up to my exact specifications. It's bad enough that bitch Greta encourages her to be her own person and stand up to me."
"You did what? What the fuck are you talking about? What exactly did you do to her?"
"I made her into the perfect little wife. She did what I wanted, when and how I wanted it. I had her this close," he held his thumb and forefinger close together. "This fucking close to getting her to change that fucking prenup. I had her in the palm of my hands and on her knees. If that old bitch didn't catch me, I would have been able to file for divorce and get half of everything I deserved. I helped her build that company. The money that she used to buy this building was my money, too. The money she used for her investments was also part mine." Cole shook his head and scoffed. "The funny thing is I have been cheating on her for years. She almost caught me twice but both times I was able to manipulate the situation so masterfully that she was apologizing to me by the end of the argument."
"You mean you gaslighted her, you sick fuck."
"I mean, I got away with it, and she never was the wiser. Unlike you, who got caught the first time you ever strayed from your relationship."
"You are such a fucking asshole. I may have hurt her, but what you have done is--."
"Oh, please. It's all a matter of perception. What you did was much worse."
"And why would that be?"
"Because."
"Because is not an answer. How could it be--"
Cole was now visibly angry. "Because she loved you more than she had ever loved me. That's why. The only person she has ever loved more than you is Asher," he said through gritted teeth. "I was never good enough because I wasn't you. Why she always compared me to you was beyond me."
"And what about Asher? Did you ever take into consideration how all your scheming and your attitude towards his mother would affect him?"
"Asher? I couldn't care less about what happens to him. He's not my son. You have no idea as a man how hard it is to love a child that is not your blood. She wouldn't even have my baby, but I was supposed to treat and love this little brat as my own! Why do you think I never adopted him? I wasn't going to be forever responsible for someone else's spawn. For her stupid mistake."
Dylan was stunned by what he had just heard. What did mother fucker say about my kid! A brat! A mistake! Spawn? He wrapped his hand around Cole's neck and slammed him up against the door. The rage flooded through him. "I was on your side. I defended your right to have you in Asher's life after the divorce. I thought that if she cut you from his life, you would be devastated. Now, you call him a brat, a mistake, and a spawn? THAT IS MY SON!"
Cole's face was turning bright red, his eyes bloodshot, and his veins were popping from his face.
Dylan put them nose to nose. "Get the fuck out of here. Next time, which I hope there isn't one, have Charlie call up here, and I will personally come get my son. You are to never step foot off that elevator again. Do you understand, or do I need to write it in crayon? Now, get the fuck out of Asher's house."
Dylan let go, and Cole fell to the floor. He was gasping for air, rubbing his neck. "Fine, you want her? You can have her. She's damaged goods. Do you know she used to be a whore?"
"I can have her? You don't own her. You can't give her away, and from what you just told me, it seems that you did the most damage. And never call her a whore. You obviously have no idea what she did with her life before you. You are such a fucking jackass. You have no power over her anymore, Cole."
Cole fixed his clothes. "I have more power than you think. I'm going to go. Tell my son--"
Asher came bounding into the room. "How many chocolate chips should we put in the eggs?"
"Hey, Buddy, come give Daddy a hug. I have to get going."
Asher ran to Cole and jumped into his arms; Cole caught him and pulled him into a tight hug. Cole didn't break eye contact with Dylan. "Daddy loves you, little buddy. I'll be back soon. I'm going to miss you so much!"
He gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Dad, gross! We talked about the kissing thing."
Cole put him down. It hurt Dylan to hear Cole call himself his daddy and hurt to hear Asher call him dad. Especially knowing what he knows now. It physically hurt him. He felt his chest tighten. He would give anything to have Ash call him Dad.
"Awe, come on, Buddy. I only want to because I am going to miss you. Aren't you going to miss Dad?"
Asher considered him. "Alright. I'll let it slide this time. I'll miss you too, Daddy. Now, Mr. Dylan, about those chocolate chips."
"Why don't you wait for me to come help you, Sport."
"Okay, but make it snappy. Bye, Dad. See you later. Love ya!"
The two men watched the little boy run off.
"He's such a smart kid. You would think he would have figured shit out by now."
Dylan knew what Cole was trying to say, and little did he know that he was indeed smart enough to figure it out. As much as he wanted to rub it in his face that his son was that smart, he didn't want Cole to find out before Lena.
"He's smart. Smarter than you may think. Now, leave."
Dylan opened the door and watched Cole call the elevator.
"Oh, Dylan. She'll never love you again, and if she does, she'll never trust you."
"She trusts me with her and Asher's lives."
"You get paid well; it has nothing to do with actual genuine trust."
Dylan wanted to strangle him... again. He stayed silent and watched him leave. I need to remember to call Charlie to make sure he doesn't let him up again, ever.
"MR. DYLAN!"
"Coming Sport."
After putting on a pair of shorts, he met Asher in the kitchen. Half the fridge's contents and the entire cupboard where Lena kept her baking supplies were on the island, and there was barely any space left on the counter.
Mental note: Never leave a five—or almost six-year-old, as Asher always reminds him, alone in a kitchen for an extended amount of time. "Wow, Sport... ummm..."
"What? Nana says you should always have all your ingredients out before you start cooking."
"Nana is right, but we don't need all this stuff, Kiddo. Why don't we put what we don't need back, and then we will have more space to cook."
"Oh. Okay. What should we put away?"
"How about I tell you what we keep out." Dylan looked around. "That will take less time. I will tell you what to keep and you move it to the table while I start to put the other things away."
"Sure. What do we keep."
"Eggs, flour, milk, bread, bacon, butter, cheese, baking soda, syrup, and the chocolate chips."
"FOR THE EGGS!"
Dylan let out a little laugh. "No, Sport, for the pancakes."
"Oh." He seemed a little disappointed, but he agreed. "Okay. Mom does like chocolate chip pancakes."
"I know."
When everything was put away, they started making breakfast. Dylan pulled a stepstool over to the island, and they both started measuring the ingredients for the pancakes.
Asher watched as Dylan cracked an egg with one hand. "Wow, can you teach me to do that?"
"Do what?"
"Open the egg with one hand. It makes you look like a real chef."
"Sure, Sport."
Dylan put the bowl in front of Asher and stood behind him. He put the egg in his little hand. With his hand over Asher's, he tapped the egg on the side of the bowl, it cracked open, and Dylan opened Asher's hand to separate the two parts of the shell. The insides fell into the bowl with a small piece of shell.
"That was really good for your first time! I am impressed."
"Yeah, but there is a shell in it." Asher frowned. He dipped his fingers in and tried to pick it up. The shell just kept sliding around the bowl. "I can't grab it. I don't want Mommy eating crunchy eggs."
Dylan smiled. He filled a glass measuring cup with water. "Dip your fingers in here like this." Dylan got his fingers wet. "Then you can get the shell." He pressed his finger against the shell and dragged it up against the side of the bowl.
"Wow. Can I try?"
"Well, we don't want to purposely get shells in the eggs, Sport."
"Then can I try to crack another one by myself?"
Dylan grabbed an empty bowl and handed Asher an egg. "Go for it," he smiled as he watched Asher repeat what he had just taught him. He hit the egg on the side of the bowl and then opened his fingers, separating the shell. The insides dropped into the bowl, and Asher's face fell.
"What's wrong? That was perfect."
"I know, but no shell got into it."
"Sport, that's a good thing. You will have your whole life to break eggs and pick out shells. You should be proud of yourself. You know, a lot of people can't break an egg with two hands, let alone one. You're on your way to becoming a professional chef if you want."
"No. I told you I want to be a Marine."
"Hey, I had to try."
Dylan looked at his son. He had just taught him how to crack an egg with one hand. It's the first official thing he taught him to do, and it's a moment that he will never forget. They finished making breakfast in relative silence.
"I think we're all done. You get the toast, and I will put everything on the tray."
"Sounds like a plan!"
The two boys arranged the food on the tray. "Ready? Think she is going to be surprised?"
"I hope so," Asher said.
Lena woke to the smell of bacon and coffee and Asher's sweet little voice.
"Mama? Mama, wake up! We made you breakfast."
Lena opened one eye. Her head was pounding. She woke up a little disoriented and a lot hungover.
"You made me breakfast?" She sat up slowly and scrubbed her hands on her face, trying to wake herself up.
"Me and Mr. Dylan. He showed me how to crack an egg with one hand!"
Lena looked at Dylan, who was standing at the foot of her bed in nothing but a pair of basketball shorts. She wondered what she wanted to eat more: the food on the tray or Dylan, or maybe she could eat the food off Dylan instead of the tray.
Jesus, Lena, you just slammed the door in his face last night because he was coming on to you, not to mention he totally cunt blocked you! But he looks so hot standing there, and he made me breakfast with Asher. Cole never did anything like that for me. He definitely never let Asher cook with him.
"He did, did he? Well, thank you for teaching him a useful skill."
Dylan blushed a little. "I thought maybe I could persuade him to pursue a career in cooking."
"Oh really? And did it work?"
"No. He still wants to be a Marine."
"Nobody's perfect," she said with a laugh. "Now, why did you guys do this? It isn't my birthday. It's not Mother's Day. Did you guys break something? Are you trying to get me to say yes to some silly idea you two have come up with?"
"No. It's do something nice because you're the best mama ever day! And no, we didn't break anything. We just love you, and you should know how much we appreciate you. At least that's what Mr. Dylan said, and I concurred."
She let out a little laugh. "You concurred? Where did you learn that?"
"Mr. Dylan said it. I was talking about how Dad is no fun and Morgan is downright boring, and Mr. Dylan said, I concur. Which he says means, me too, or I agree."
Dylan shrugged his shoulders and put the tray down on the bed over her lap.
"I forgot the picture I made you! I will be right back." Asher took off out of the room.
"Dylan, what's this all about? What game are you playing?"
"I am not playing any games with you. I thought that after the shit show, which I admit was at fault, it would be nice to do something for you. And Asher helping was just a nice addition. I mean, we are family, right? You may not be my wife, but he's still my son, and you are his mother, so--"
The sound of Asher's feet came thudding down the hallway. "Here, Mama!" Asher ran in, waving a piece of paper. "Here, Mama. See, it's our family."
Lena looked at the paper.
"See Mama, that's you, and Dad, and me, and the dog we don't have," he said the last part with a little bit of sarcasm.
"Who's that? It sure doesn't look like Morgan."
"Because it's not. She's not part of the family. She's not married to Dad yet."
"Then who is that?"
"It's Mr. Dylan, of course. Duh."
"Asher, Mr. Dylan is not part of the family. Why would you put him in the picture and not Morgan?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
Dylan and Lena shared a wide-eyed look. "Isn't what obvious?"
"I actually like Mr. Dylan and like being around him. He's fun and does stuff with me. Morgan is boring and all she does is make me bring her slippers to her. A dog can do that. Which, by the way, we don't have one."
Dylan couldn't help but snicker.
"I know Dad loves me, but I also know that Morgan doesn't. I don't like going there."
"Oh, Tesoruccio." She ran her fingers through his curls.
"Did you try your toast?"
Oh, the attention span of a five-year-old. Goldfish levels. "No, I haven't tried anything yet, but it does look really yummy. Especially the toast."
"Oh no! We forgot the strawberry jam! I will be right back. Mom always has jam with her toast." He went running out again.
"Dylan, you have to watch your mouth around him. What if he heard you call him your son? What if he already heard? He drew you as part of the family."
"Yeah, 'cause I'm fun, and I do things with him. You heard him; he likes me. And what if he does hear me? That's one way to do it. He needs to know, and the sooner, the better." All he could think of was the conversation he had with Cole earlier. He didn't want Asher going to Cole's either."
"Dylan, that is not the right way."
"Look, I wasn't going to say anything, but when Cole brought Asher--"
"Oh God. That's right. Cole brought Asher home. Did he see you? Why did you open the door? Please tell me that Asher let himself in. "
"No, he didn't let himself in, and I opened the door when I heard someone knocking. That's normally how that whole thing works. Someone knocks, someone answers, and since you were dead to the world, I completed the cycle."
"Shit. Were you at least... well, more clothed?"
"Umm, actually, I was a little less clothed. I was in my boxer briefs."
"You were naked!"
"Why do you people consider wearing only underwear being naked? I was on the couch, asleep, minding my own business--"
"Asleep on the—why were you on the couch? In fact, why are you still here? Wasn't me slamming the door in your face a big enough hint that I didn't want you here?"
"I told you last night that I was not going to drive home. You screwed up and didn't tell me that the meeting was canceled. And so what, I answered the fucking door. I mean, Cutler never answered the fucking door?"
"Not in his underwear, and Cutler isn't my ex--"
"Here's the jam!" Asher came bounding into the room.
"Thank you, my love! This all looks wonderful!"
"I couldn't have done it without Mr. Dylan."
"Thank you too, Mr. Dylan. My goodness, this is so much food. I think I need someone to share it with. Will you help me?"
"Sure! I thought you'd never ask."
"Climb up then." She patted the bed next to her.
Asher climbed up and cuddled close.
"Well, hello. This is nice. We haven't snuggled in a while."
"Oh, I'm not snuggling. I'm making room for Mr. Dylan. Come on, Mr. Dylan! You did say that my toast looked really good."
He shrugged. "I guess."
The three of them sat there. Asher put a hand on Dylan's leg and Lena's hand.
"Look at us. One happy little family."
Lena started choking on her piece of toast.
Dylan smiled. I love this fucking kid.
"Are you alright, Mama?"
Lena took a drink of her coffee. "Yes, baby. I am alright. It just went down the wrong pipe."
Asher took a piece of bacon and handed Dylan a piece of toast. "So, I think we should have a conversation."
"How about you let Mama eat this delicious breakfast you and Dylan made me before it gets cold?"
"Okay, but as soon as you're done, we are going to talk about how Dad is not my real dad." He took a bite of the bacon, and Lena dropped her fork. "Well, eat up,