Domestic–1
The first thing I notice when I wake up is the empty space beside me.
I run my arm across it while I attempt to open my eyes fully. Jake’s warmth is gone, and I don’t miss the way my stomach drops. I blink, inhaling as I push myself up, holding the sheets to my bare chest.
With my lips pursed, I look at his side of the empty bed and notice the folded note sitting on his pillow. A small smile curves my lips, and I reach for it.
Making breakfast for us. Come join me when you wake up. – J
I shake my head, amusement bubbling in my chest. The idea of Jake in the kitchen,
cooking breakfast, is not something I ever expected to be able to enjoy, but here we are. I slip out of bed, shivering slightly as the cool air replaces the warmth of the blankets, and grab one of his simple long–sleeved shirt and a pair of his briefs.
I’ll shower after breakfast; right now I am just eager to see him.
As soon as I step into the kitchen, my smile widens. Jake is there, standing by the stove, wearing an apron of all things. He doesn’t have a shirt on, just his pajama bottoms, and
he’s flipping waffles onto a plate.
The sight is so effortlessly sexy, so domestic, that it tugs at my heart.
Jake glances over his shoulder and smirks. “Morning, baby.”
“Morning,” I murmur, rubbing my eyes.
He turns just as I reach him, leaning down to kiss me. It’s slow and lazy, the kind of good morning kiss that makes my stomach flutter. I push myself onto the tips of my toes, giving him more of me.
“Waffles?” I ask when we pull apart, arching a brow at him.
He chuckles, taking the plate and moving toward the dining table. “Figured I’d spoil you a little. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had waffles.”
I follow him, noticing how he’s set the table with plates, utensils, and even a small vase
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with fresh flowers. My heart squeezes at the gesture, and I take my seat as he sets a plate in front of me before sitting across from me.
As we start eating, the mood shifts. Jake’s eyes darken slightly with intent, and I feel the shift in the air before he even speaks.
“Can we talk now?” he asks, voice firm.
Nerves tighten in my stomach, but I nod, placing my fork down. “Okay.”
He exhales, setting his own fork down as well. “I don’t understand why you kept me a secret when Aiden was already okay with Zaid.”
I swallow, my fingers tightening around the edge of my plate. “I thought it would be
different.”
Jake shakes his head. “What do you mean?”
“Jake, you’re their father. The dynamic would be different, and I was afraid it wouldn’t work,” I admit, my voice quieter now.
He ponders on that for a minute. “The dynamic would be different?”
I nod.
He sighs, swallowing. “You’ve told me before why you think dating me would be a mistake. Our age difference, the face that Aiden is my son… has any of that changed?”
I blink at him. “Yes.”
His eyes dart between mine. “What has changed?”
“I’m still with Aiden and Zaid. I didn’t have to choose.” My chest burns when I say the words, especially when I see the flash of hurt in his eyes.
“If it were just me, you wouldn’t choose me?”
My lips tremble, not knowing how to answer honestly without hurting. “I have feelings for them, too, Jake. That’s the reality.”
He seems less hurt with that, and his inhale is enough to calm my nerves. Still, he
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watches me closely, considering my words. “So, was it really just that you were afraid of Aiden saying no?”
