Oops...We're Married?

“I want to go home.”

“You’re going home with us. You’re my new mom.”

The enthusiasm in Ryan’s little voice sparkled brightly, filling Dillon with regret and anger. Ryan deserved to have a mom. A real mom, not this silent, remote, accidental “mom” who’d gently rubbed her cheek against his son’s small hand before the child reluctantly sat back and fastened his seat belt.

“Ryan, Miss Eleanor and I are not really married,” Dillon gently reminded his son as Eleanor’s stiff posture made him wonder angrily what was really going on behind the silent mask of her features. For a moment, while they’d danced, she’d taken her glasses off, but now they were firmly back in place, a shield she apparently hid behind. “There was a mistake. She doesn’t want to come home with us.”

When Eleanor swung around to glare at him, her silky blond hair swinging wildly around her shoulders, he realized he’d chosen the wrong words. And it made him even angrier. It wasn’t his fault she didn’t want to be married to him. He didn’t want to be married to her, either. And, just for that brief second, crawling out from under some hidden rock in his soul was a feeling of confusing disappointment.

“The man said he married you. That means she’s my mom.”

In a heartbeat, the wildfire in the deep whisky eyes hiding behind the windows of her glasses, changed to disbelieving panic, matching the feeling starting to fuel Dillon’s own emotions.