I still haven’t figured out how to eat all that well, but I’m trying. All of us are basically consuming hospital food since we spend so much time there. In the evenings, it’s usually only one of us at August’s house so it’s not worth cooking a full meal. As such, the freezer is stocked with microwave meals and frozen pizzas, but we’re all getting sustenance at least.

Best of all, everyone seems to be getting along, which is good for Sam’s sake.

Well, August and I are getting along. Sort of. We’re actually nice to each other. We have conversations. Sometimes, we even laugh. Still, there is a distance between us—a line that’s been drawn that we can’t cross—and I know it has everything to do with the fact I kept Sam from August all these years. I figure it’s going to take quite a while for him to reconcile that, but I never expect him to let me be anything more than just a co-parent.

My dad and August are a different matter, though. They’re still very stiff and awkward around each other. August hasn’t forgiven my father for not coming to Vegas right away. In August’s mind, there should have been no choice to make. Dad should have left Denver for Sam without hesitation. My dad has tremendous guilt about the choice he made not to come at first. I know this because he told me so. But that’s between him and Sam and no one else. It’s not for me or August to judge my dad’s actions as I know he’s doing the best he can. On top of that, he ultimately gave up his safety to be there for my son, and that’s all that matters.

Sam told me the other day that he had a good talk with his grandpa about it. The bottom line is Sam is cool with the fact it took Dad a few days to decide to brave the scary world.

“He’s here now,” Sam had told me. “And there’s nothing else I want.”

God, my kid is amazing. Loving, forgiving, and wanting nothing more in this world than to just have his family around him. I’m lucky to have him as a son.

I consider the evening ahead of me. My father left over an hour ago for his shift to stay with Sam. He’ll be relieving August, who was up there for a bit this afternoon. I’d been there this morning until August arrived, then actually took a few hours this afternoon to come home and clean. While August keeps a nice house, he’s added two house guests, so it just needs a bit more vacuuming and dusting than normal.

At any rate, I’ve had a full day and I’m tired. My options are to watch TV or read a book. I have no clue what August will be doing this evening, but it’s pretty much his routine to never show up until after nine or ten PM, so I have the house to myself for a while. I don’t ask where he goes. Although, admittedly, I’m a little curious. Because he doesn’t offer the knowledge of where he spends his time in the evenings, I figure it’s information he doesn’t want to share. My best guess is he has a girlfriend whom he’s spending what little free time he has with.

I hate the fact that August potentially having a girlfriend bothers me. It’s not like I expected him to pine away for me. He should have moved on, even if I never had the chance to do so because my life was all about secrets and hiding.

I let out a deep sigh. I hate that it’s so complicated between us, but it doesn’t do any good to fret over it. It is what it is.

Maybe I’ll take a bath. A long, hot, and relaxing soak will do wonders to help me get settled for a good night’s sleep.

Several days ago, August told me I could use the bathtub in his master suite if I wanted. While the guest bathroom I normally use has a tub, it is nothing compared to the one in August’s. His is monstrous, round, and sunken into the floor with steps that lead down into it. It’s big enough to host a party in. Plus, it has whirlpool jets.

I’ve taken advantage of it on a handful of occasions since I’d moved into his home.

Moving through the house, I scan as I go to see if anything needs picked up. I head into August’s bedroom, which surprisingly has nothing out of place. I’m slightly impressed he makes his bed every day, doesn’t throw his clothes on the floor, and cleans up his sink after he shaves. I can attest from living with two members of the male gender that they tend to be sloppy in general.

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