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typical-simplelove · 2 years

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Center Point Road -> Tyson Jost

Summary: Based on Thomas Rhett and Kelsea Ballerini's Center Point Road, it's your and Tyson's story from meeting formally night at the age of 5 and onward. (Your classic childhood friends to lovers).

Author's Note: After almost a year later, I finally have the final part of the Kelsea Ballerini Series! I'm so glad that I got this one finished, and I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: nothing much; probably not proofread; gender-neutral!reader (if I missed anything, please let me know!)

Word Count: 5.4k

We drink our beer in the basement So no one would know We didn't care where the days went Had nowhere to go, Center Point Road When everything was about a kiss and clouds just look like battleships And helmets crashing on the field And we thought every love was real

When the doorbell rang, you weren’t paying any attention to who was at the door. After all, you needed to find out if they found Nemo, and your mother always said never to open the door because, you know, stranger danger.

“Do you mind watching Tyson for the night?” you hear a familiar voice from the door. “Kacey has a raging fever, and my parents are out of town. There’s no one else.”

“Hardly even a request,” your mother responds, and she ushers Tyson into the house. You turn your head and watch Tyson Jost walk into your living room. He’s nervously and shyly taking off his jacket and boots before he sits next to you on the couch. You smile at him before you grab the remote and rewind the movie.

“We can start over,” you tell him, not sure if Tyson has seen the movie. He nods and turns his attention to the TV.

It’s not that you don’t like Tyson. You barely know him, but you were both in the same kindergarten class. You’ve sat at the same table in class a few times, but mostly, you hung out with different people.

“Are you okay, Tyson?” your mother asks, putting a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table ten minutes later.

“Yes, thank you,” Tyson replies with a soft smile. He always was very polite, you recall. Even in school, Tyson had the biggest heart out of all of the other 5-year-old-boys.

You look down at Tyson’s knee, noticing that he was taping it nervously. “Popcorn?”

Smiling, Tyson puts his hand in the bowl and takes a handful. “Thank you.”

Throughout the first half of the movie, you and Tyson go back and forth between taking handfuls. By the halfway mark of the movie, the bowl is empty, and Tyson has slowly come out of his shell. You’ve noticed, though, that Tyson is still nervous and not quite comfortable. You’re not sure, though, what to do to make him feel better.

“Let’s get you two into pajamas,” your mother interrupts and pauses the movie. You and Tyson follow your mom upstairs. You go into your bedroom while your mother urges Tyson towards the guest bedroom. Once you’re both in your pajamas and teeth brushed, you and Tyson are sitting on the couch again with the movie started again.

Next to you, you watch Tyson slightly shiver, so you take the blanket that was sitting on your lap and unfold it and place it on Tyson’s lap. “Better?”

He nods with a cute smile. “Much, thank you.”

Throughout the rest of the movie, you and Tyson sat next to each other under the shared blanket. You never thought of Tyson as a friend, but as the night carried on and the movie wound to a close, you knew that Tyson was going to be your friend, and during recess the next day, you were going to play with Tyson.

When the movie’s over, you and Tyson are walking upstairs (he was to stay in the guest bedroom), and you say to him, “I just know that Kacey’s going to be okay.”

He smiles at you. “I hope so, too.”

With that smile, your life changed. You didn’t know it yet, but you met the person who would be the focal point of the rest of your life.

We wrote our own destiny in parking lots and empty streets Yeah, we got high on you and me Jumped over cracks beneath our feet

“Is the punch good?” Tyson asks as he walks up to you. He noticed the small cup in your hand. He didn’t have anything else to say to you at this current moment. There was something about the energy in the gym that was making Tyson nervous to talk to you.

It was the seventh-grade middle school dance, and you were wearing a lavender shirt with a black skirt, and Tyson swears you’ve never looked more beautiful. Even under the darkness and very dim show lights of the gym, Tyson just knows you’re glowing.

You shrugged at Tyson’s question. “It’s fine. Nothing too stellar.”

“How much more do you have in there?” Tyson asks, inquisitively.

“It’s empty, but I just don’t want to walk to the trash can or the table for a refill.”

“Oh, cool,” Tyson says, awkwardly. He nods and bounces on his feet awkwardly. His mom and grandfather gave Tyson a pep talk just before the dance, but now that he’s come to use that pep talk, Tyson can’t do it.

His hands were sweaty, his mouth was parched, and he was really, really warm. Who knew his best friend since the age of five could make Tyson this nervous?

Ever since that first Friday night watching Finding Nemo on your couch, you and Tyson have spent almost every Friday night together. Sometimes, you’d watch movies or hockey games together. Sometimes, you’d go for ice cream together after one of Tyson’s games. Other times, you and Tyson biked around the neighborhood or played mini-sticks in one of your driveways.

That’s how Friday nights went.

This Friday night, though, you and Tyson were at your middle school dance, and Tyson has been waiting for this night for the past few weeks. He’s watched his classmates ask people to the dance. Although Tyson wasn’t brave enough to ask you to be his date, he knew he could ask you for at least one dance. One dance, Tyson’s mother said to him. It didn’t have to be something big, but as long as you knew Tyson cared, Tyson’s mother reasoned, then it would make a big difference.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You don’t really have to ask,” you reply, a smile emerging on your face.

“Okay, then, um, at the next slow song, did you want to dance with me?” Tyson asks, his voice barely audible with the loud music blaring through the speakers.

Your eyes widen in shock, a good shock. You nod. “Yeah, I’ll dance with you.”

Tyson nods and stares ahead at the dance floor. “Good.”

As you and Tyson wait for the next slow song, you both stand there awkwardly, side by side. It’s never been that way between you two, but the anticipation of the dance was getting to both your nerves.

After what seemed like eons, a slow song began. Tyson looked at you, expectantly. When he looked at you, though, he discovered that you were already looking at him. He gestured his head towards the dance floor, and you both moved towards an empty space. Copying the movements of your classmates, you place your hands behind Tyson’s neck as his hands gently rest on your waist. It was an unusual feeling having Tyson’s hands on your waist. It was a feeling that burned into your skin through your clothes.

As the song continued, you and Tyson awkwardly swayed to the song, not meeting each other’s eyes. When the son concluded, Tyson cleared his throat, and for the first time during the dance, your eyes met Tyson’s. You both nodded at each other before dropping your hands and finding your other respective friend groups.

Standing next to another friend, you couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying. The feeling of Tyson’s hands on your waist was still burning. You liked the burning, though, it reminded you that your best friend was there, and he would always be there. No matter what.

And we thought it would never end Then watched it go like summer wind When growing up was just a dream And Friday night was everything

Whenever you and Tyson would go to the movies together, someone else would be there. Sometimes, it was Kacey or your parents or Tyson’s grandparents or his mother. Sometimes, it was another friend from school. This time, though, it was different.

You and Tyson wanted to go see the newest Spider-Man movie, but no one else was available to go. Your parents had to go out of town for a family function, so you were spending the weekend at the Josts. Kacey and their mother had a birthday party to go to, and Tyson’s grandparents were unavailable. For the first time in years, it seemed, you and Tyson wouldn’t have any plans for your Friday nights.

However, to your surprise, Tyson’s mother said that you and Tyson could see the movie on your own. She felt that (and after discussing with your parents), at your and Tyson’s ripe age of 14, you and Tyson could sit in a movie theatre without adult supervision. When she told you and Tyson, wide smiles graced your faces as you thought of all the fun you’d have.

The plan was Tyson’s mom would drive you and Tyson to the movie theatre before driving to and staying at Kacey’s friend’s birthday party. The movie and birthday party ended at around the same time, so you and Tyson would wait in the theatre lobby for Tyson’s mother to pick you back up.

It seemed like a date, you told yourself. You knew it wasn’t technically a date, but you in your freshman year state of mind with a huge crush on Tyson thought it was a date. After all, that’s what all the other freshman in your grade did for dates—go to the movies.

As you were getting ready to leave for the movie theatre, you paid special attention to the way your hair looked. You weren’t trying to make it obvious, but you wanted to look nice just in case it was a date. When you deemed yourself ready, you made your way to the Jost’s couch and waited for Tyson, Kacey, and their mother to be ready. You sat on that couch, sweaty palms running up and down your pants as you tried to calm yourself down. It was just Tyson, you kept telling yourself. There was nothing new to this situation.

Except there was. You and Tyson would be going to the movies alone. You’ve never done that before. Most times, your parents or Tyson’s mother would sit in a different row and let you and Tyson sit on your own. If Kacey joined you, then she’d sit next to you because she claimed she “saw Tyson all the time, so why should she have to sit next to him?” You didn’t mind. It was a routine you enjoyed.

Until it wasn’t. Until you and Tyson were going to the movies alone, and your heart was racing through your chest.

As you and Tyson are getting out of the car, you hear Tyson’s mother say, “Enjoy your date, you two!”

There’s a ringing in your ears at her words as you close the door, but the heat drains from your face when you hear Tyson say, “It’s not a date, mom.” His face was burning red, though.

Your heart deflates. So it wasn’t a date.

It wasn’t that you completely thought it was a date, but when Tyson confirmed that it really wasn’t a date, that just made your heart feel worse. You’d rather pretend that it might be a date instead of Tyson spoiling your fun and saying it’s not a date.

As you and Tyson are buying your movie tickets and snacks, you’re quiet. Normally, you’d be chatting about the movie or nothing at all, but tonight, you weren’t in the mood to talk. The evening was going well until Tyson’s comment.

Maybe he didn’t have feelings for you? All your other friends insisted that Tyson liked you, too, but now you’re not sure.

You’re still contemplating these thoughts as the opening scene of the movie begins. You relax in the back of the seat when Tyson leans over to you. The scent of his Head & Shoulders shampoo is driving you insane, and when he gets closer to you, it’s intoxicating.

“Ignore my mom,” he whispers. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” you reply, your heart breaking.

Yeah, Tyson doesn’t like you. It’s okay. You’ll just be his friend, then.

Yeah, we didn't worry 'bout nothing But we had it all, yeah And being that fast was just something Running the halls, breaking the laws

“Okay, let’s try this again,” you say, looking down at your notebook. “What is the effect of temperature on resistance?”

“Um,” Tyson stutters, trying to remember the fact. “If temperature increases, then resistance increases?”

“Correct!” you say, giving Tyson a high-five. With the touch of his hand, your face grows warm, but you’re able to hide how flustered it makes you. Tyson, on the other hand, is bright red and can’t look you in the eyes.

Junior year physics was kicking your butt. Your Friday night study sessions with Tyson were making it better. It might entirely be because of Tyson.

You’re about to start another practice problem when Kacey walks up to Tyson’s bedroom. “Tys, mom says it’s getting late.”

Tyson checks the time and curses under his breath. “Let me walk you home.”

You nod and begin to pack up your belongings. When you’re ready, you follow Tyson out of his bedroom and out the door after you say goodbye to Tyson’s mother and Kacey.

“We have a quiz on Monday, right?” Tyson asks for clarification, turning onto the road.

“Yeah, you can come over on Sunday after practice if you want, and we can study.”

“I’ll let you know,” Tyson answers, giving you a short glance.

Since that night in Freshman Year when Tyson said the movie wasn’t a date, you ignored your feelings for him. You pretended that you didn’t have feelings for Tyson to let your friendship grow, and it has. In the past few months, though, Tyson has changed. He has gotten so handsome, and it was getting harder and harder for you to pretend you weren’t attracted to him. If being such close friends with Tyson and loving him as much as you do has taught you anything it was that you were really good at hiding things. You were really, really good at hiding how much you loved him.

“Let me take your bag for you,” Tyson says, grabbing the strap of your backpack.

“Tyson, I can carry my own bag.”

“Not the point, my friend.”

My friend. Those two words stung deeper than a bee sting.

“Okay,” you relent, passing over your bag. He’s shouldering your bag, and as you and Tyson take the final turn down your road, the walk resumes in silence. That was happening a lot, the silence. It was as if Tyson was constantly contemplating something. You weren’t sure just what it was, though, and it felt like if you asked, you wouldn’t get a straight answer. Whatever was constantly on Tyson’s mind wasn’t something he wanted to or could share with you.

When you and Tyson walk up the driveway towards your door, you wished that the walk was longer. You liked the times when Tyson walked you home. It was calm and peaceful, and you were able to pretend that Tyson just might love you, too.

“I need my key to get inside,” you tell Tyson, gesturing to your backpack still on his shoulder.

“Oh, right,” he says, shrugging off the bag and placing it at your feet. You bend down and grab the key. Just before you put the key in the lock, Tyson’s hand rests on yours. He’s holding your hand, and your breath stills. You turn to him and stare deeply into your eyes. “Don’t go inside, yet.”

“Tys, I—”

He interrupts your sentence with a kiss. His hand was still in yours, but his lips were gentle on yours. It was soft, and with the first initial touch, it felt like you had fallen into a bed full of pillows and blankets. It was comfortable, it was familiar, and mostly, it was everything you wanted.

When Tyson pulls away, you refrain from pouting. It was just one kiss, and you hoped it would lead to more.

“Yeah, so, yeah,” Tyson says, awkwardly, running his hands through his hair.

“I should really get inside,” you say, flustered.

“Right, yeah, um, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

You smile. “Okay.”

Before you step into your house after unlocking the door, you lean into Tyson and kiss his cheek. You step into the foyer and lock the door behind you. Tyson, oh, Tyson. He really did know how to keep you on your toes.

Life was about the party, who you are, and who you with Drinking 'til your head was sorry Oh, and dancing for the hell of it

Hanging your jacket on the chair, you look around the apartment for Tyson. After following Tyson when he was traded to Minnesota, you found a new home. It wasn’t a life you thought you were going to lead, but now that you’ve started to build the life, you couldn’t be happier. And you were with Tyson, so that was more than you could ask for.

It was Friday night, and all you wanted to do was sit on the couch with your favorite comfort food and Tyson.

Noticing that Tyson wasn’t in the kitchen, you turn to your phone to answer any messages you received while driving home from work. You’re leaning against the counter when you notice a huge box from a bakery around the corner. Needing something sweet to eat, you open the box and see cupcakes. The lid slips out of your hands when you see the icing on the cupcakes, though.

The cupcakes in your favorite flavor have a light blue icing on top. The top of the icing on each cupcake is a circle made of fondant with a letter on each circle. The words spell out “Will you marry me?” and a small, velvet box is sitting in the center.

Tyson was going to propose.

Your heart begins to beat erratically. Although you thought Tyson would propose within the next year or so, you never thought it would be right now! If Tyson did ask you, though, you know you’d say yes.

“Tyson?” you call out. You hear a muffled “yeah” from one of the bedrooms turned home gym. “Can you come here, please?”

In seconds, Tyson is in the kitchen. He greets you with a kiss on your forehead and a smile. “What’s up?”

“I, um, might have opened the box,” you answer, directing your head towards the white box.

Tyson’s eyes go wide. He pushes the box away from your grasp. “How could you ruin the proposal?”

“First, I didn’t know you were going to propose,” you say, defending yourself. “Second, I see a box from a bakery, I open it! Tys, you shouldn’t have left it out if it were super important.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tyson sighs. “I was going to do this whole thing, but I guess I can’t anymore.”

You giggle. “It doesn’t matter how you ask me; my answer will be the same regardless.”

“I’m going to assume that because you called for me instead of just running away from the box I’ll like the answer, so I’ll just improvise,” Tyson says, running his hands through his hair. “I was going to make you dinner, first. And then, I’d clean the dishes and force you to sit on the couch and relax. Then, when I finished, I’d bring out the cupcakes, and you’d open them, and I’d ask you, and it would be happily ever after.”

You smile. “You can still do some of that.”

“Right,” Tyson replies, walking over to the box and putting it in front of you. “I have something for you.”

“For me?” you tease, play-acting. You open the box, and your eyes widen reading the words despite already knowing what they say. You still couldn’t believe this was happening.

Tyson takes the velvet box out and turns to you. He gets down on one knee and opens the box. “Will you make the happiest man alive and give me the honor of marrying you? There isn’t a thing I’d want more in the world than to be by your side forever.”

You smile. “There’s nothing more in the world that I want.”

“So, yes?” Tyson asks, unsure, an eyebrow raised.

You burst out into laughter. “Yes, yes! Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Tyson smiles widely and slips the ring onto your finger. He pulls you in for a kiss and holds you close. After pulling away, Tyson rests his forehead on yours and breathes in your scent. “It’s you and me forever.”

Twenty years after watching Finding Nemo on your couch at the age of five, you and Tyson just agreed on forever, and you couldn’t wait for what that entailed.

“It was always our destiny.”

We wrote our own destiny in parking lots and empty streets Yeah, we got high on you and me Jumped over cracks beneath our feet And we thought it would never end

“For the first time on this Friday night, I would like to introduce to you, the Josts!” the DJ announces to the ballroom, and you and Tyson walk through the doors, wide smiles on your faces. You and Tyson make your way around the guests, hugging and greeting friends and loved ones who were there to celebrate your marriage.

After many hugs and handshakes and congratulations, you and Tyson make your way to the center of the dance floor in the ballroom. The lights in the room dim, and your wedding song begins to play through the speakers.

As the familiar tune of the song begins, you and Tyson begin your first dance as a married couple. You and Tyson have one hand clasped together while your other hand is resting on his neck. Tyson’s other hand is resting on your waist as your chests are close. Your forehead is resting on his shoulder as you sway to the music. There wasn’t any pattern or rhyme or reason to your dancing. All you wanted was to be there, with Tyson, and close to him.

Although the song was just under four minutes, it felt like an eternity. The first time ever that something that felt like an eternity was not enough. You didn’t want that little bubble that you and Tyson formed to end. You wanted to be in that moment forever.

As the refrain to the song begins, Tyson releases his hold on your waist and twirls you. You spin to the song and rejoin Tyson with your hand back on his shoulder.

“Did you know that I’ve been thinking about this night for years?” Tyson says, close to your ear.

“Were you now,” you murmur, a small smile covering your face as you think about Tyson thinking about you.

“Ever since I first kissed you,” Tyson replies. “Ten years ago.”

“You’ve been thinking about marrying me since we were sixteen?”

“I think even before that, but it was more like I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you,” Tyson answers, his face growing red.

“Well, did you know that I’ve been in love with you since, like, middle school?”

“Middle school! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You told your mother that we weren’t on a date that first time we went to the movies together! I thought you didn’t love me back.”

“Oh, baby, I’ve been in love with you for so long, I couldn’t even enumerate it. You have no idea.”

You smile at his words and let yourself get lost in the music.

As the final beats of the song play and the guests clap, Tyson places a kiss on your lips. Yeah, forever was looking pretty nice.

Then watched it go like summer wind When growing up was just a dream And Friday night was everything

“She’s so tiny,” Tyson remarks as he’s holding Lydia, your newborn daughter. You’re sitting on the couch watching Tyson stand at the window. He wanted to “show Lydia the world.” Whatever that meant. Lydia could barely open her eyes at just one week old. “What if we break her? Do we get a new one of her?”

“You’re not going to break her,” you reassure, your eyes weary.

“I never knew I could love someone this much,” Tyson murmurs, smiling down at his new daughter. Although he was very firm in his stance with holding Lydia, you can tell that Tyson is shaking. “I mean, I never knew I could love someone this much who I’ve only known for a few weeks. Sorry, I love you.”

You laugh, knowing the last “I love you” was for you. Patting the empty cushion next to you, you say, “Come here, I want to see my husband and daughter.”

Tyson does as you said. He’s holding Lydia close to his chest. “Are you 100% sure we’re not going to break her? I don’t know how we’re expected to raise this perfect little girl. We’re only going to ruin her.”

“We won’t break her, Tys. People have been raising children for eons and eons, and I think we turned out pretty okay, so I think we’ll do pretty good.”

“What if she hates us one day?” Tyson’s mind was spinning. With you, he knew you would always love him no matter what, but with Lydia, he didn’t know. He loved her with his entire being, but it would shatter his heart if she didn’t love her father just as much. Already at such a young age, Lydia had Tyson wrapped around her finger.

“We’ll still love her no matter what and hope she can see that,” you reply, resting your arm around his shoulder. Your other hand was resting on the little bundle of joy in Tyson’s arms. “Imagine, in like thirty years or so, Lydia could be having this very conversation with her partner and her child—our grandchild.”

Tyson’s head whips up at you. “Nope, this little girl is never getting married. No one on this earth is good enough for my little kid.”

You snort. “That’s why my parents thought, too, but they ended up liking you.”

“She’s so precious,” Tyson says, changing the subject. “I love you, little girl. Your Momma and I love you with our entire beings, and we can’t wait to watch you grow up. And one day, we’re going to spend every Friday night, just like this one, showing you all our favorite traditions because Friday nights are the best part about being a Jost.”

It used to be just you and Tyson, but now, it was you and Tyson and Lydia, the precious little baby who has her parents enamored and in love.

Hold on forever (Hold on forever) Yeah, hold on to it (Hold onto it) Hold on forever (Hold on forever) And never let go of it (Ooh ooh)

“Remember, we have to be quiet when we go into the room, okay?” Tyson tells Lydia, currently four years old.

“But why?” she asks. Typical of your young daughter to follow a comment with a “why” question.

“Because Momma is probably tired and sleeping, and your baby brother is also probably sleeping,” Tyson explains.

“Luca!” Lydia exclaims. She’s only seen a photo of her new baby brother, but she’s completely enamored and in love with him.

Tyson smiles at his daughter. “Yeah, Luca, and remember—”

“We have to be quiet,” Lydia interrupts. “I know, Daddy.”

Tyson just nods his head and opens the door to the hospital room. As you got closer to your due date, Tyson’s mother flew into town to take care of Lydia if you went into labor overnight or when Lydia wasn’t at school. Tyson didn’t want to leave your side to get Lydia (Tyson’s mother didn’t have a car to use), but you insisted that your other child should meet the new child. It took much cajoling to convince Tyson to leave you and Luca.

“Hey,” you say from the bed when you see Lydia and Tyson walk in.

“Hi, Momma,” Lydia loudly whispers.

“Do you want to meet Luca?” you ask, gesturing to the baby boy in your arms. Lydia nods emphatically, and Tyson places her on the bed next to you. Slowly, you lower Luca more to Lydia’s eye line. Gently, Lydia reaches her hand up to Luca’s face and strokes his face softly. At first touch, she giggles and looks at her father in excitement.

“I’m a big sister, now,” she says, a wide smile on her face. She puts her hand gently on Luca’s hand and continues to watch him. “You made a pretty baby, Momma.”

You smile at your two children and continue watching them interact.

“I’m going to have the best story to tell my classmates on Monday,” Lydia remarks. Going into labor on a Friday night meant that Lydia wouldn’t have to miss any school, and as she mentioned, she’d have the best story to tell her friends. She’s a big sister, now! “Can I bring Luca to school for show-and-tell?”

You laugh softly. “Maybe not on Monday, but you can take a picture of Luca; how about that?”

Lydia nods. “I’ll keep it in my pocket to show everyone!”

Tyson looks down at his small family of four. He smiles. He couldn’t ask for a more perfect group of people he got to love every day of his life.

Everyone says when you're younger "It's gonna go fast" It suddenly hits you like thunder And you're gonna wanna go back (Wanna go back, wanna go back, wanna go back)

Luca was sleeping on your chest after taking his bottle. You were stroking his back as Tyson’s hand was wrapped around your shoulders. The cushions of your couch allowed you to sink in comfort and fluff as you tried to keep your eyes concentrated on the movie. You think Lydia is awake. She’s sitting on Tyson’s lap with a blanket. If Lydia was anything like you, then she was probably knocked out. Being in Tyson’s arms for more than ten minutes is enough to make anyone fall asleep.

After being married for eight years and having two children, you can’t imagine that life could get any better for you and Tyson. It was tough, some days, especially during the season, but nights like tonight made up for it. Nights where you and Tyson were on the couch with your four-year-old daughter and two-year-old son.

A few weeks prior, Lydia asked what the first movie you and Tyson ever saw was. Although you couldn’t give her a straight answer on the individual answer, you and Tyson could give an answer about the first movie you saw together. Ever since you told her you and Tyson became best friends after watching Finding Nemo together, she wanted to watch it. So, on the first free Friday night that you and Tyson had in a while, your little Jost family was sitting on the couch watching Finding Nemo.

Lydia managed to stay awake for the first half of the movie, but once the halfway mark hit, Lydia was knocked out. You were pretty sure Tyson was awake, but the only sign of life was his hand stroking patterns on your shoulder. If you glanced at Tyson, though, then you’d see his eyes mostly shut. Maybe he was asleep, too.

Looking down at your sleeping family, you can’t help but see the irony in the situation. You and Tyson started your friendship together on a Friday night, and now, you and Tyson were spreading the Friday night tradition with your new family. Because you built your destinies on Friday nights and spent it growing in love.

Being interrupted during Finding Nemo at age 5 was probably one of the best things to ever happen to you.

We wrote our own destiny in parking lots and empty streets When growing up was just a dream And Friday night was everything

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nhl-stories · 11 months

Text

Apartment 402 – Tyson Jost

Summary: Sylvia is a running away from the only life she’s ever known, turning up on Tyson's doorstep may be the best decision she's made in years.

Author’s Note: Mentions of emotional abuse and postpartum depression, but also Josty being a sweetie. Honestly, I could probably write 4 billion more words

If you feel like you or a loved one might be in an abusive relationship, you can find resources here Please be safe out there and look out for one another

Word Count: 11.7k

Album Series Masterlist

Emptied my hеart, laid down my cards Played my best part, wanting a new start

It was too late to go back. Not that it was really an option, there was no turning around now.

She trudges through the snow that’s piling up on the walkway. This was the right choice, at least for now.

She rings the doorbell and waits for him to answer. It’s late and she didn’t call, she hopes he’s still a light enough sleeper to come get her out of the cold.

“Syl? What– why?” Tyson rubs the sleep from his eyes as he tries to decipher what’s going on.

Before she can answer there’s a cry that grabs their attention.

“You have the baby? Jesus, get in here before he gets cold.”

Sylvia gives a stiff smile and walks into his place with the carrier, she sets it down and pulls Jonah out and bounces him on her hip to get him to calm down. Tyson just watches, waiting for an explanation.

“I left him and I didn’t know where to go, so I just started driving and I ended up here,” Sylvia sniffs, trying her best to not cry. She cried enough in the car.

Tyson is too tired to say anything useful so he just pulls her and Jonah into a hug, he feels her relax in his embrace. When he pulls away, he smiles at the baby.

“Hi Jonah, it’s nice to finally meet you in person,” he holds out a finger and the baby grabs on and giggles when Tyson exaggeratedly shakes his hand.

Syl laughs along, happy Tyson isn’t prodding into the situation just yet. The wound hasn’t even scabbed over, it’s too early to even pick.

“I can put you in the guest room, but I don’t know where the little guy will sleep.”

“I have some of his stuff in the car, I just didn’t want to lug it to your door. You know in case…”

“In case I turned away a mother and baby in this weather?”

“More like you slept through me ringing the doorbell,” she smirks.

Tyson trudges back and forth for Sylvia to get all the stuff out of the car and then helps her set up in his guest room. She sets up the travel playpen and gets Jonah settled for bed, it’s not perfect but it works for now.

“If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Sylvia is the first to go for the hug this time, she’s finally able to squeeze hard without a baby in her arms.

Tyson is surprised he manages to sleep through the rest of the night. He expects the way his blood boils to keep him up, thinking about what that man did to Sylvia, what he took from her, instead he finds solace in sleep.

He also expects the baby to cry, but maybe little Jonah knows how exhausted his mom is emotionally and physically that he gives her a break.

He goes to practice the next morning well-rested and acts like nothing has happened, because as of right now that’s kind of true. Sure, there’s a woman and a baby at his house for God knows how long, but it could be considered just an old friend visiting.

Still, after practice he goes to the grocery store. He doesn’t know anything about babies. Kacey is only two years younger than him so he was barely out of diapers when she was born. He wanders down the baby aisle and throws things in his cart that he thinks will be helpful: food, diapers, wipes, a pacifier with an elephant at the end that he thinks looks cute.

When he arrives home, it’s almost noon and it’s quiet. He knows Syl is still here because her shoes sit by the door like the good Canadian she is.

Sylvia is lying on the bed; her eyes are open but she’s in a daze. Jonah is lying on the bed next to her, playing with his feet while his mother sort of pays attention.

When Jonah hears Tyson in the doorway, he makes an attempt to sit up and gets fussy when he can’t quite get up to look at the visitor. Sylvia doesn’t make any attempts to comfort or move towards him so Tyson scoops the baby up.

“Just get some more sleep,” he whispers and Sylvia just grunts in response.

Jonah starts crying as soon as Tyson gets into the living room.

“Don’t cry little man, we’ll find something fun to do,” he makes a silly face but Jonah’s eyes are closed as he gets ready to scream.

“Shh, shh, shhh,” he looks around the house for something to play with and grabs a loose puck from a side table, he’s pretty sure it’s for some milestone but it doesn’t matter right now.

“Hey look, here’s a puck,” he puts it in Jonah’s hand and the baby grabs it with interest before putting it in his mouth and gnawing on it.

If he was more knowledgeable, Tyson might think about the problem with letting the baby suck on a dirty puck but he’s just happy that Jonah’s calmed down.

He sits down on the floor with Jonah and the baby just happily gums the puck.

“You like hockey then, eh?”

Jonah gurgles in response before taking the puck and holding out for Tyson.

“Thank you,” he smiles though he’s grossed out by the now slobbery puck.

He sets it down but Jonah reaches out for it again. So, Tyson hands it back and Jonah laughs. A few seconds later Jonah passes it back. This continues for far too long to entertain anyone sufficiently and yet; it entertains both until Syl comes into the living room.

“Jonah did you make a new friend?” She brightens at the sight and joins them on the ground, Jonah drops the puck and reaches out for his mom.

“I bought some food and stuff if he’s hungry, sorry I didn’t even think to feed him.”

“He’s still on the tit, but thank you… for everything.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal, “are you gonna tell me what happened?”

Syl lets out a heavy sigh and kisses her baby on the head.

“You don’t have to, I –“

“It’s fine, you deserve to know why I invaded your life.”

“I guess I finally opened my eyes and figured out what everyone else always knew? I think when I got pregnant, I really started to see what he had done. He has me push away my family and friends and kept me from my own source of income and when I finally came up for air I was poor and alone and trapped.”

She starts to cry, “But people started sending me money for the baby and I didn’t tell him so I had a little nest egg and then he got mad at me for overcooking a steak and not being able to calm down Jonah fast enough and I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to leave.”

“And you took his son in the middle of the night across the border?” Tyson tries to keep judgement out of his tone, but he wants to make sure he understands.

“I honestly didn’t think I’d get this far, I thought I’d chicken out.”

Tyson gives her a strained smile. He’s proud of her, he really is; but at the same time, it seems reckless to leave without a whole plan.

“What if he tries to come after you? After Jonah?”

“I don’t think he’d want any of this to become public knowledge. Let something as stupid as me mess up his reputation,” she says it like she believes she’s nothing.

“I’ll help you find a lawyer just in case, people like him don’t deserve to win.”

Before she can respond, Jonah pulls down the collar of her shirt.

“Sorry, did I ignore your lunchtime?” she smiles and gets a gummy sone in return.

Without second thought she pulls out her breast and starts feeding him.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Tyson shoots up.

“I know you’ve seen tits at least once before, because I dared Brittni to flash you that one summer.”

“You’ll be shocked to hear I’ve seen a few more since then,” he mocks while averting his gaze.

“You know this is the only actual purpose of breasts, right?” She laughs, a real, genuine laugh.

“Yeah, doesn’t mean I need to watch,” he laughs back.

“Well get used to it buddy,” she drops her happy tone, “I mean if I’m allowed to stay here.”

“Why wouldn’t you be?”

“You’re a cool, young single guy who just moved to a new city, who doesn’t need a newly single mom and her baby cramping your style.”

“Lucky for you Sylvie, I like single moms.”

“I’m serious Tys, I haven’t exactly been a good friend for the past few years and then I throw this on you. It’s not really fair.”

“I appreciate it, but I got over being mad about the cold shoulder a long time ago. It was never really your fault. Stay as long as it takes to get back on your feet.”

“You say that now, but wait until Jonah really starts teething and screaming, then you’ll regret saying that.”

“You want to order pizza? I feel like celebrating that my best friend is here and left that asshole.”

“Pepperoni, green peppers, and extra cheese?”

“Always.”

It’s like no time has passed since they were last together. Syl can’t remember the last time she laughed so hard. If she were to guess it would have been 5 years ago, when her relationship still seemed good, when she still had friends she regularly talked to, and she hadn’t let herself wither away in the shadow of her husband’s expectations

If she thinks about everything she gave up, she’ll start to cry, and she has to be better for Jonah. For the new life she’s going to give them.

The next day she ventures out of the house with Jonah, the city looks much different with the sun out, like a new beginning. She finds herself driving around aimlessly at first, taking in this new freedom. Then reality sets in when she gets a call from her mother.

“He called me, to see if you came here, which is hilarious to think this is the first place you’d come,” she laughs like it’s actually a joke and not a comment on their strained relationship, which has been tenuous as long as Sylvia can remember.

“But are you okay? You don’t have to tell me where you guys are I just want to know you feel safe there,” despite their less than stellar relationship her mother had always loved her fiercely.

“I’m in Buffalo.”

“Of course, you went to Tyson,” there’s a sigh of relief, “I’m wiring you some money, don’t argue. Think of it as all the Christmas and birthday presents you missed. And get a new phone number. Don’t give him a chance to contact you outside of lawyers.”

Syl doesn’t mention the dozens of voicemails she hasn’t listened to yet. Though she can practically hear the threatening tone of half of them and the faux apologetic tone of the other half. The dichotomy of anger and caring that had kept her caged with fear and guilt for so many years.

Her mom goes into legalities that Sylvia knows she’s only familiar with because of her daughter’s life choices. The deep harbored hope that Syl would eventually come to her senses. Everyone obviously hoped it would happen before a child was involved, but life doesn’t always go the way we hope.

After the phone call, Sylvia finds herself crying in a Target parking lot while Jonah screams in tandem.

Tyson comes home and finds Sylvia’s car missing and her phone number disconnected. He’s starts having a weird vision of Taken and going to Toronto to find Syl and beat the life out of her husband, though he doesn’t really have a special set of skills for that kind of action.

Then the door opens with Jonah strapped to Sylvia’s chest and her carrying some bags.

“Jesus Christ where were you?” Tyson grabs the bags out of her hands and his tone causing Jonah to whimper and start to cry.

“It’s okay Jonah, Tyson didn’t mean to scare you,” she bounces a bit to soothe him, “if I’m staying here a while I kind of need the essentials, cribs, bibs, changing table.”

“Well, you should have texted or something,” he lowers his voice a bit, not wanting to frighten Jonah more.

“I thought I would be back before you got home, but then my mom called and–“

“You talked to your mom?”

That’s the last thing Tyson expected to hear. Sylvia was a bit of a latchkey kid growing up, her parents working all hours, so Tyson mostly remembers her mom as the woman who would pick Syl up from his house or an outdoor rink late at night without much fanfare or conversation.

“Yeah, he called her. So, she wanted to see if I was safe. And told me to get a new phone so he could only reach me through a lawyer.”

“Smart,” Tyson nods, “and that’s why your phone was disconnected?”

Sylvia makes an embarrassed grimace in response, before she pulls out her phone and texts him a matching emoji.

“Before you start having me make furniture I have a gift,” Tyson smiles and drags Sylvia to the kitchen.

“I already owe you so much, you don’t need to get me a–“

She stops and laughs at the gift Tyson is excitedly holding up: a Sabres onesie and a pair of noise canceling headphones.

“I thought you guys might want to come to the next home game.”

“I don’t know…” she wants to go but she also worries about imposing too much on his life.

“C’mon, I want to be the one this little guy sees playing for his first NHL game, plus you can meet some of the guys and their partners. Get to know some people other than me, people who have experience raising their own kids.”

Tyson has a big smile, mostly directed to Jonah and it makes Sylvia insides turn mushy.

“Fine, you’re right it sounds fun.”

The day of the game comes and the last thing Syl wants to do was go, instead she wants to lie in bed and do nothing. And by nothing she meant nothing; she hasn’t even gotten out of bed to change Jonah, who is crying in his crib. It’s the worst version of self-soothing a mother could do, but if that makes her a bad mom she doesn’t care.

She lets him cry for 30 minutes and it still isn’t enough to pull her out of her bed, if anything a new level of self-loathing is keeping her there.

Her phone buzzes and she has just enough energy to look that Tyson texted her that he’s bringing her home lunch.

And it’s the fear of Tyson seeing her lower than low, ignoring her child and wallowing in her own self-pity, that finally rouses her from bed.

She scoops up her son, who continues to cry, “Mommy is so sorry baby, I’ll try and pay for your therapy in the future.”

She laughs at her own dark joke as she changes her son, then decides to just give him a full bath since she let him fester in his own filth like the trash person she is.

“You’re gonna have a lot of fun tonight, Jo,” she says once she puts him in the bath, “hockey is a lot of fun, and Tyson, that’s the guy we’re living with, I guess he’s your godfather or something, he’s really good. And mommy met him playing hockey cause she used to have to play on a boys’ team.”

“And she got in trouble for punching a bunch of boys,” Tyson laughs from where he leans against the doorframe.

“Mommy was defending herself, which makes violence okay,” she smiles at Jonah.

Tyson joins her on the floor and hands her a smoothie, “They made this at the training facility, it apparently has all the good vitamins and stuff for breast feeding.”

“They make you guys’ booby smoothies?” Jonah laughs at the word booby, “Booby is like, the one word he recognizes.”

Tyson laughs, “Makes sense, I get excited hearing about meals too, and no it’s not a special smoothie I just read that you need all these vitamins and calcium so I grabbed one on the way out.”

“There’s another part of this lunch right? I’m not a smoothie-only kind of girl.”

“Yeah, I grabbed you a sandwich too.”

The gloom recedes into the background as the day goes on, Sylvia can feel it looming but tries her best to ignore it. If only to make sure she doesn’t seem ungrateful to Tyson.

She hasn’t seen Tyson play a hockey game since his first game against the Maple Leafs, and even then, as a happy newlywed, she was quickly ushered away before really getting to congratulate Tyson. After that she was always been conveniently “busy” when he played in Toronto.

So, walking into the arena is already a wholly different. It makes her heart swell with pride, that little old Tyson made it here. It also makes her feel guilty for not celebrating him enough before.

Jonah seems as enamored as his mom, he moves his head every which way, like he’s taking note of everything so he doesn’t forget.

An usher leads her to the family suite, which is instantly too fancy for her. She’s used to her hockey games being in cold warehouse rinks on hard bleachers where parents scream too loud and teens sneak in beer. She doesn’t know what to do with herself here.

“Sylvia?” A woman comes up to her, clearly sensing her unease.

“I’m Danielle Okposo, Tyson had some of the guys warn us you’d be coming,” her smile is warm and familiar, the kind of person you just want to hug.

“Warn? I hope he’s not telling everyone the bad stories,” she laughs but it ends hollow as she realizes there are bad things he could say.

She merely laughs and bends down to look into the stroller, “And who’s this guy?”

“This is Jonah,” Sylvia gets him out of the stroller and readjust his headphones.

“Welcome to the Sabres family you guys, come sit down,”

She ushers her towards the other women, who all look beautiful and well-dressed. Sylvia feels bad in her ratty flannel, it was the only clean, blue thing she owned. No one seems to take notice or care, but when you’re holding a baby as cute as Jonah, she realizes people pay very little attention to her.

Jonah plays with the ends of her hair while he stares at the players at warm up and his mom is gently interrogated.

“Tyson said you just moved to Buffalo?” A woman who hadn’t introduced herself asked.

“Uh- yeah, I’m staying with Tys until I get back on my feet,” she stutters, “I’m going through a bad separation,” she adds hoping it will kibosh any further question or at least any question about the father of her child.

“Buffalo’s a great place to raise kids if you end up staying,” Danielle adds before they’re all distracted by the start of the game.

The rest of the evening goes pretty smoothly. Jonah isn’t fussy and only sleeps for part of the second period. Too distracted by the ice, the other kids, and the women who insist on giving her a break and holding him.

She eventually gives into the pleas, letting go of her grounding anchor and getting to focus more on the game. Tyson makes an assist and Syl jumps out of her seat, the old rush of a hockey game taking over.

The Sabres win and the women convince her to come down and congratulate the third star of the night, even when she says she’ll just see him back at his place.

She’s already thrown Tyson’s life off its axis; she doesn’t want to completely knock it out of orbit because he’s too nice to tell her to backoff. Even if she deserves it.

She has an overwrought smile as she watches all the wives and girlfriends hug their partners. She wonders if she’ll ever feel happy like that with someone, if the picture-perfect hugs and grins will be real for her.

“Whoa bud, stayed up for the whole game?” Tyson takes Jonah from her arms and gives him a little toss in the air.

He’s all damp curls and misbuttoned buttons and smiles, for a second Sylvia thinks of kissing him.

She smiles through the strange thought, trying to remain unphased. “Yeah, eyes glued on the ice the whole time.”

Jonah grabs Tyson’s nose and laughs.

“I should get him a pair of skate next then, eh?” He grabs Jonah’s nose back.

“Yeah, for his hands and knees maybe, he can’t even crawl yet.”

“I’ll wait a few months then.”

He makes a mocking face and Sylvia sticks her tongue out at him, Jonah laughs at their faces.

“Want me to take a picture of you guys?” Another player asks walking by.

“No we’re-“

“C’mon Sylvie, I gotta get a good picture to send my mom,” he hands his phone over.

She rolls her eyes and stands by him, wrapping an arm around his waist before pointing Jonah in the direction of the camera. She tickles Jonah’s side so his gummy smile is on full display.

“Cute, I’m Jeff by the way,” he extends a hand.

“Sylvia and the Sabres newest number one fan is Jonah,” she waves his little hand towards Jeff.

“Nice to meet you, I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you both,” he smiles, showing off the deepest dimples Sylvia’s ever seen.

“Yeah, probably,” she already feels like she’s getting in too deep.

“Well, it’s bedtime for me and my partner in crime,” she takes Jonah back and puts him in his stroller, “but go out and celebrate, I’ll see you later.”

She gives Tyson a big hug, it’s probably too long and too tight, but she has so many hugs and ‘I’m proud of yous’ to make up for, she doesn’t care.

Sylvia wakes up the next morning and Jonah isn’t in his crib. An unbearable dread fills her body. Had he found her, taken the only thing that mattered to her, just because he could? Just to remind her she couldn’t escape him, that she was nothing without him.

It’s not logical, but the emotions of being a mother are illogical.

She runs out to the living room, but before she can actually have her reaction out loud, she sees Tyson sitting on the couch with Jonah in his lap, facetiming his mom and sister.

Sylvia almost sobs with relief.

“Oh my god, I want one,” Kacey whines from the other end.

“Yeah, in ten years,” Tyson scoffs with older brother protectiveness.

“Either way I’m booking a flight to Buffalo just to squeeze him, Sylvie makes cute fucking babies.”

“Language,” their mom laughs.

Sylvia doesn’t want to interrupt the family moment, but she second guesses that when she realizes her own flesh and blood is involved and she pops in the background and waves. Jonah squeaks, seeing his mom in the screen but not knowing where she is.

“It’s good to see you sweetie,” Laura smiles, “I’m glad Tyson is being a helpful babysitter.”

There’s no pity in her voice or eyes, but pride, she probably knows what Sylvia’s going through, what she will go through better than most. The silent reassurance makes Syl feel braver.

“I can’t complain, his mom raised him right,” she smirks, aching for the company of a family she hasn’t had in years.

She comes around the couch and takes a spot next to Tyson.

“Did Tys tell you grandpa cried when he saw the picture of the three of you?” Kacey grins.

“Of course, he did,” Sylvia’s grinning so hard she knows it will hurt later.

Jonah then leans forward mouth open onto Sylvia’s shirt-covered boob.

“I’m just a giant milk machine to you, aren’t I?” She moves him off Tyson’s lap and closer to her and her now drool covered shirt.

“Wow you’re still breast feeding, good for you I never lasted that long,” Laura says.

“Gross mom,” Tyson groans.

“It’s a perfectly natural thing Tyson,” his mom scolds and Sylvia makes an ‘I told you so’ face.

“I can feel a tooth coming in, so I think it’s gonna be game over soon. I don’t know if my nipples can take that.”

Tyson and Kacey both make gagging noises in response.

“One of the many reasons you don’t want your own yet, Kace. But before I mortify Tyson more, I’ll feed my child elsewhere. I’m sure I’ll talk to you guys later.”

She gives Jonah’s hand a little wave and goes back to her room.

The conversation changes before she makes it all the way in the room, “How’s she holding up, actually?”

“I think pretty well, not really sure how. We’ve talked a little, but I don’t want to push her.”

“He was always an asshole; it was bound to happen eventually. And all you can do it be there for her, she’s really lucky to have you.”

“Thank mom.”

Sylvia tries, really tries to keep it together.

She gets into somewhat of a routine. She goes on walks with Rachel Thompson and her baby Brooks, who’s about the same age as Jonah. And that’s nice. Being around another new mom is refreshing, it’s a chance to vent with someone who’s going through it. Even if their circumstances are drastically different.

Sylvia tries to make life easier for Tyson where she can, she cooks meals, cleans, runs errands for him. It keeps her mind busy but it’s also a little too familiar. Playing the domestic housewife role so well. She has to remind herself Tyson isn’t him.

Tyson will cook with her when he can, he offers to do dishes when she cooked. He won’t go off on her if something isn’t to his precise specifications.

That still doesn’t put her at complete ease.

Then Tyson goes on a long road trip. She thinks it’s somewhere warmer, but she feels nosey asking while he packs. Like she’s crossing some weird line if she asks. She knows he’d probably be happy to share, Tyson isn’t him.

Her mom calls two days in, “He keeps calling, have you seen a lawyer yet?”

“I’m seeing one tomorrow,” morbid curiosity takes over, “what has he asked about?”

“Just where are you and when I get him extra frustrated, ‘does she know how bad this makes her look?’ Stuff about how he gave you a good life and you’re throwing that all away.”

There’s a glowing feeling in her knowing he’s frazzled now, barely hiding his true nature from everyone else. But then frost touches her heart.

“Has he asked about Jonah?”

The pause her mother takes is answer enough, “No, sorry Sylvie.”

She looks over at Jonah sleeping peacefully in his crib, blissfully unaware of the family he was brought into and the father who cares more about the appearance of his missing wife than the well-being of his son.

“At least it should make getting custody easier,” and that comforts Sylvia in the worst way.

Tyson is chilling by the pool in California with his teammates, it’s not very warm by SoCal standards but it’s boiling in comparison to Buffalo.

His phone buzzes with a text from Sylvia: Thx for the lawyer recommendation, we sent divorce papers today

And before he can think it through, he sends her a shirtless picture of himself with a thumbs up, not exactly the best response to the news.

“Who you sending shirtless pics to Josty,” Alex Tuch calls from in the pool.

“Probably the MILF he’s living with now,” Cozens laughs and the rest of the boys join in.

“She’s getting a divorce,” Tyson lamely retorts.

“That wasn’t a no,” Alex grins.

“And it means she’s single…”

“It’s not like that, we’re just friends,” he can feel heat rushing to his face.

He’d only ever thought of Sylvia that way once. It was just a fleeting pubescent crush. He had come back for the summer after his second year away for hockey in Kelowna and in the meantime, Syl had become a woman. He didn’t know how to react to his friend’s growth spurt or the new curves of her body.

She no longer felt like the girl who wore boy clothes and was too competitive in every game they played. Really, she was the same girl just in a new body.

So, when she rubbed up against Tyson while guarding him in street hockey, he felt all new sensations. It was too confusing for a 14-year-old to really grasp. But once he got his hormones under control and learned to accept the changes in Sylvia, she was the same old friend he had always known.

But every now and then the thought creeps out from the back of his mind that Sylvia is beautiful and can give him butterflies.

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out,” Jeff grins, his dimples on full display.

“You’d maybe be the only guy I’d let date her, but seriously just leave her alone okay, she’s going through it right now,” he stops himself before he says too much, shares something that’s not his to share.

His phone buzzes with a reply: Very rude of you to send a pic of you in warm weather like that, so here’s my payback.

He reads the text a few times over, trying to decipher it before he receives a picture of Sylvia flipping him off while she is breast feeding.

A shirtless pic for a shirtless pic 😜

He grimaces and exits the text before his teammates get a glimpse.

A swell of darkness comes in with such force Sylvia can’t help but succumb. It had been lurking in the distance for days, but the storm had finally arrived with gusto.

She felt overwhelmed for most of Jonah’s life. She didn’t know how to take care of a small person who didn’t understand the world, she barely took care of herself well enough to be considered well-adjusted or healthy.

“Ow, fuck Jonah,” Sylvia pulls the baby away from her breast.

Jonah wails in response, his mouth gaping wide and the new tooth barely poking through looks almost throbbing with pain.

“Sorry bud, I should have pumped after the last time you tried to gnaw my nipple off,” she tries to reason over the screams.

She lets Jonah gnaw on one of her fingers while she tries to set up the breast pump one handed. By the time she gets it set up both her and Jonah are crying in unison.

In this moment of being milked like a cow while her son greedily chomps on her fingers, she just lets herself free fall into the abyss. The darkness covers her like blanket and she feels warm thinking about falling asleep and never waking up again.

She’s going through the motions of motherhood and she doesn’t know how much longer she can take it. Maybe she could drop Jonah off at a fire station, have him put with a family that deserves him.

She feeds the fussy baby, who only cries more when he’s finished. Throwing a bottle with such force he puts a dent in the stainless-steel refrigerator.

He cries and cries and cries. She doesn’t know how he has this much breath in his lungs. She ran out of tears and breath a long time ago.

On top of that he doesn’t sleep.

It’s three in the morning and he’s just as awake, somehow throwing his loudest tantrum yet.

“Just stop, please! I get it, life fucking sucks but you can’t keep doing this,” Sylvia somehow finds more tears in her body.

He stops for a moment and Sylvia relaxes a little, just long enough for him to spit up on her before he lets out a scream.

“Why are you doing this to me?” She shouts in her son’s face, like if she matches his volume maybe he’ll realize how ridiculous he sounds.

If anything, he wants to win the screaming contest.

Syl has to set him down on the floor to stop herself from shaking him, from throwing him out of a window, from winning worst mother of the millennium award.

She crumples to the floor beside him and sobs. Her body shakes so hard she thinks she’ll bruise her ribs. She never wanted to be this person. She doesn’t want to be a person at all.

It’s 6 AM and it’s still unending; she doesn’t know how he hasn’t just screamed himself into a coma. He’s only stopped when he desperately pleaded for a meal, and the solace of silence was worth her bleeding nipples.

She’s more surprised that the neighbors haven’t called CPS. Maybe they have, it’s not business hours yet.

The door opens, the team had taken a red eye. Sylvia doesn’t react, she might be half deaf at this point.

Tyson comes around the corner at full speed, rushing to the sound of crying. Only to see both Jonah and Sylvia sobbing on the floor.

She looks a mess: dried vomit on an old sweater that probably hasn’t been washed since she moved here, hair looking just as unwashed, and dark bags under her eyes that still show through the red puffiness.

“Shit Syl,” he gets down on the floor and gives her arm a gentle squeeze.

“He’s broken,” she sniffles, “he won’t stop crying.”

Tyson’s heart shatters, “Okay,” he pauses to think, he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing, make her feel like a bad mother.

“How about I take him for a bit and you go shower and refresh,” he smiles and picks Jonah up before she can respond.

The baby screams in his ear while he helps Sylvia up. She seems too dazed to move so Tyson pulls her along to the bathroom and turns on the shower, waiting until the water is warm.

“This will make you feel a little better, or at least more human,” he kisses her forehead and walks out.

Tyson is right, Sylvia does feel a little better after washing the grime off of her. But she’s not ready to face Jonah again, the echoes of his cries ringing in her ears. She sits on the floor of the shower and cries until the water turns cold.

She gets out and it’s quiet. For a second she thinks she might have actually gone deaf. She puts on pajamas and pads out to the living room, no sign of them. She peers into Tyson’s room and finds Jonah sitting in Tyson’s open suitcase, chewing on a hockey puck. He has big crocodile tears still pouring, but that’s a million times better than he had been.

“I know the puck is pretty cool, but I thought you’d like the matching shirts,” Tyson is modeling a Hawaiian shirt and hold up a tiny version of the same one, they’re horribly bright and in any other moment Syl would point out a colorblind person clearly picked them out.

“We can’t exactly wear them here, so I got it a little bigger so you can grow into it.”

“I’m an awful mom,” it’s not what she wants to say, but it’s where her brain goes.

Tyson turns around and pulls her into his chest.

“Sylvie, you’re not a bad mom, you were just overwhelmed.”

“He’s been crying for like days straight and you come home for five minutes and he stops! Obviously, it’s because I don’t know how to take care of my son.”

He rubs circles on her back and takes a deep breath, willing her to follow suit.

“You’ve been mostly alone for over a week, you were overwhelmed. It doesn’t make you a bad mom.”

When she doesn’t make eye contact with him, Tyson lifts her chin to make sure she sees how serious he is.

“You’re a good mom, Sylvia. You just had some bad days and look,” he points to Jonah who is now snoozing on a pile of Tyson’s travel clothes, “you made it through and he’s still alive.”

Sylvia still seems unsure but she’s too tired to protest. She just nods in agreement.

“He’s really lucky to have you, he just doesn’t appreciate it yet. And obviously he was lost without seeing me every day.”

Sylvia shakes her head and laughs, the feeling is foreign.

“You may be his food source, but I’m the entertainment,” Tyson grins, loosening his embrace but no quite letting go.

“I’m glad he has his own personal clown,” she playfully shoves him.

“Go get some sleep Syl, I got the rugrat for a few hours.”

Sylvia is out of the room before Tyson can second guess his offer. She’s asleep before her head hits the pillow.

If she doesn’t wake up at least Jonah would be in good hands. The sick thought is the last thing that runs through her mind before slumber takes over.

She wakes up, much to her chagrin.

But then she hears Tyson and Jonah laughing outside her room and she hates herself. Here she is with a happy, healthy baby and a friend so nice he’s willing to upend his life to help her out, and she’s acting this way? She hates being ungrateful.

She recommits herself to being better.

And it works, for the most part. Sure, she cries in the shower where Tyson can’t hear her or stays in a parking lot to sob, but who doesn’t do that? It could be worse, she knows that, until a few weeks ago Syl was living that.

It’s pretty late at night for Jonah to still be up but he’s been buzzing all day so Sylvia is hoping to tire him out a bit more before putting him down. She’s noticed that he doesn’t wake up in pain over his fresh teeth if he’s completely worn out.

She’s folding some of Tyson’s laundry, a new chore she’s picked up in an attempt to keep her mind busy and have more of a routine. Jonah is laying on his stomach, doing an impression of pushups as he tries to get a Sabretooth plushie Sylvia put just out of reach to keep him occupied.

“You’re so strong Jo,” she laughs as he pushes himself up a little further and moves himself a bit closer to the toy.

He grunts with concentration.

She moves to grab another shirt to fold and turns back to see Jonah on his hands and knees, crawling towards his prize.

“Holy shit,” she whips out her phone to take a video, moving the stuffed animal a little further away from him.

He takes the challenge and moves a little further, getting his hands on the Sabretooth. He gurgles happily and puts it in mouth.

“You’re crawling baby,” Syl doesn’t think she’s ever been so happy than seeing him reach a milestone.

She baits him to crawl a little further a few more times when she hears the door open. Syl doesn’t even think twice about her newly mobile baby before she shoots up and runs towards the door.

“Tys you have to see – oh shit sorry,” Sylvia freezes in her tracks and half turns away in embarrassment.

Tyson has a woman hanging off of him, they’re intentions clearly painted on their flushed faces.

“Oh my god you have a girlfriend?” The woman says as she detaches herself from him.

“No, I’m just staying here, I’m so sorry. I’m usually in bed by now so you wouldn’t even know I was here.” Sylvia rambles, feeling so embarrassed and remorseful she completely forgets why she was so happy.

“Tys you should have texted I would have made sure I was out of the–“

“Jonah you’re crawling?” Tyson interjects when the baby scoots his way towards the noises.

Syl can’t even relish in the pure joy spreading across Tyson’s face as he beams at her son.

“And there’s a baby,” she’s clearly a second from leaving but the cold is probably preventing her from just waiting outside.

Sylvia picks up Jonah, “I’ll just go for a drive with him and let you two have the place for a while, I’m so sorry. I’m such a fucking cockblock.”

She starts to gather her coat and boots when the woman speaks up, “I think the moment’s passed, but maybe we can go back to mine next time”

She sends an understanding smile towards Sylvia and somehow that makes her feel guiltier.

“I can drive you home,” Tyson offers.

“I called an Uber,” she holds up her phone, “it’s outside,” she gives Tyson a tentative kiss before leaving.

Sylvia lets out an embarrassed groan, “Oh my god I’m ruining your fucking life.”

“You think that ruined my life?”

Sylvia just glares in response.

Tyson takes Jonah from her, “Now show me what this crawling business is all about.”

“My son isn’t a dog you can ask to show you tricks,” she laughs as she follows him into the living room.

“I think you have to do this for me, since you’re ruining my fucking life,” he winks and sets Jonah on the ground.

The baby immediately makes his way over to the stuffed animal he left on the floor.

“I know it sounds stupid, but this is like the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” Sylvia says while holding back tears.

“It kind of is.”

Now that Jonah is on the move any time he’s set on the floor, Syl realizes she should probably baby proof Tyson’s place. It’s a lot of work but it’s just another thing to keep her occupied and if it’s funny every time Tyson finds a new drawer or cupboard he can’t open, then that’s just a bonus.

It feels like she’s on the other side of a tunnel. Then her lawyer calls.

Uncontested divorce.

It sounds nice to get it over with, no arguing or going into court. Never having to see him again

Then the reality sets in. She loves the idea of not fighting over custody but also agreeing to not take alimony or child support in return is a little extreme. Without a little income from the divorce, she doesn’t know when she’ll be able to work and get on her own feet. And she can’t expect Tyson to just be okay with this arrangement indefinitely.

But she also knows her opponent, and she knows he’ll make her life a living hell if she fights back, and is that worth it?

The lawyer talks her through all her options, Sylvia tries to absorb all the information she can but the emotional and logical parts of her brain are at war.

She lying on the ground and tossing a ball a little bit away for Jonah to grab; essentially, she’s playing the most passive game of fetch, but it’s entertaining him so she doesn’t care. It’s the perfect way to wallow and be a somewhat decent mother.

The door opens and Tyson calls out, “I went to the store but I couldn’t remember what solid food he was on, sweet potatoes or beets?”

At the sound of his voice, Jonah bypasses the ball and scrambles to the kitchen. Tys picks him up and flips him upside down, much to the little boy’s delight.

“What?” Syl sits up and gives him a quizzical look.

“We were out of baby food, but I know he’s trying a new food this week and I couldn’t remember what it was.”

The way he says ‘we’ makes Sylvia’s heart swell then burst. She can’t tell if it’s in a good or bad way, but it makes her a little lightheaded.

“You, okay?”

“Yeah, just lost track of time. Forgot it was lunch time,” she rubs her eyes even though she’s not actually tired, “And it’s sweet potato week,” she puts on her ‘happy baby’ voice and walks over to the pair.

She starts to set up the high chair and Tyson helps strap Jonah in and together they’re like a well-oiled machine. Before she knows it, Tyson is spoon feeding her son, sing-songing ‘here comes the plane.’

“Wow bud, you really love these sweet potatoes. You might even rival my friend Nate Dogg,” he laughs and Jonah copies him.

Syl can feel herself doing a robotic kind of laugh, like she’s trying to solidify the fact that she’s there and present, but her brain is a million miles ahead of her and maybe in a different country.

Tyson doesn’t seem to notice from his bonding bubble with her son.

“I think I have to go to Toronto for my divorce,” she blurts, finally coming back to reality.

“What?”

The orange goo of sweet potato slips off the spoon and onto Jonah’s bib. Sylvia takes a moment too long, staring at the food as it slides down further.

“My lawyer called today and I think I want to contest his terms of the divorce.”

Tyson puts the spoon and bowl of food down, doesn’t even notice that Jonah takes this as an opportunity to take both and make a mess.

“And what are the terms?” A deep wrinkle forms between his brows.

“I get to keep Jonah 100%, but no child support or alimony.”

Tyson stares on like he’s missing something.

Syl doesn’t know how to voice all her jumbled thoughts, so she just lets the words flow out, “I can’t just go without money from him, I’ll never be able to pick myself up without something and you can’t take care of us.”

She knows it’s not exactly what she meant to say, but it’s also not completely off. She can’t go from her whole life depending on one man then another, even if Tyson would never use that as some power to hold over her.

The hurt that crumples Tyson’s face makes her realizes he doesn’t understand what she’s really feeling.

“I don’t mind taking care of you guys,” his voice is so small and hurt.

“Just because you don’t mind doesn’t mean you should have to Tys, I’m not your problem,” she can feel her words digging a deeper grave.

Jonah can sense the shift in the air and his lip starts to tremble.

“I’m gonna give him a bath,” she mumbles and leaves the room in a hurry, the hot sting of tears coming through.

Tyson leaves on a road trip the next morning. She doesn’t get the chance to explain herself or apologize.

After two days of fretting over an apology text she never sends, Danielle Okposo comes knocking on the door.

“How would you and Jonah like a playdate?”

Syl doesn’t feel up to leaving the house, she’s back in ‘fully alone and unable to clean herself and her son’ mode.

“Uhhh–“

“This is like 90% for me, my oldest two keep bringing up having another baby and I think having them play with an actual baby might help my cause. Because either Jonah is really cute and satisfies the baby needs or he’s a nightmare and they remember how hard having a baby is.”

“Wow, babies having baby fever,” Sylvia laughs.

“So will you come?”

“Why not,” she decides adult interaction is probably healthy and will keep her mind off of Tyson.

“You’re literally a lifesaver.”

They end up at the Okposo house, which is controlled chaos at its finest. Four kids, toys everywhere, but it’s cozy; it’s the kind of house Sylvia always dreamed of living in.

The kids are instantly enthralled with Jonah, who is living for the attention. They place him in front of a mini stick net with an oversized helmet on to play goalie. The three older kids take soft shots at him, and now that he can move, he actually stop some of the foam balls that come towards him.

Sylvia can’t help but take a picture without a second thought she sends it to Tyson with the caption, he’s strangely good at this, a sign I gave birth to a weirdo?

As soon as it says delivered, she worries away at the corner of her lip, wondering if it was wrong to send that without any apology or acknowledgment of their last conversation. The image of his hurt face burned into her mind.

“Everything okay?”

And maybe it’s because Danielle is a real adult who really has it together or that Sylvia kept everything shoved down in the darkest part of her mind for years, but whatever it was about being here right now makes her open up. About everything.

Suddenly there’s someone in the world who knows it all, and she a weight she didn’t even know was on her chest is lifted. She can finally take a full breath and with all the newfound air rushing to her lungs she starts to feel overwhelmed and hyperventilates. It brings out the tears that were just below the surface.

Danielle rubs her back and just lets Sylvia feel her emotions and there’s something profoundly new and profoundly sad about that.

“Oh Syl, that’s a lot to have to carry all on your own.”

Sylvia quickly wipes her tears when she hears the kids come in asking for a snack, Odin awkwardly holding a rather happy Jonah. She sniffles and offers to take the baby.

“We just knew we couldn’t leave him alone; he doesn’t want to hang out with moms,” Odin scrunches up his nose and Syl can’t help but laugh at the glimpse into her own future.

“Why don’t you guys pick a movie and we’ll bring you some snacks in a bit,” Danielle diplomatically gets rid of the kids before they really notice Sylvia’s tear-stained face.

Once they’re out of ear-shot Danielle turns back, “My advice might not mean a lot coming from someone who has not gone through half the stuff you’ve gone through, but I do think you should let Tyson in a little more, so he understands what you’re thinking.”

Sylvia gnaws at her lip but nods.

“And I think you should see a therapist, because the way you talk, that’s not just being sad or motherhood being hard. It sounds like postpartum depression and you can’t take care of Jonah if you aren’t taking care of yourself too.”

Talking about all of this with a stranger almost seems more appealing than talking to Tyson.

“I have a few names I can give you,” Danielle squeezes her hand, “now let’s go feed some kiddos before they get really crazy.”

Tyson is set to arrive home and Sylvia is tempted to ask if she can stay with the Okposo’s just to push off her conversation another day. But she knows she has to be brave. She was brave enough to leave an emotionally abusive relationship, why couldn’t she be brave enough to talk to her best friend?

Jonah is down for a nap and Syl starts making dinner, something to keep her hands and brain busy.

Tyson comes through the door; his usual loud and happy greeting doesn’t follow him. Syl can hear him rummaging around his room, taking his sweet time before they talk. He finally sheepishly makes his way into the kitchen, sitting on a barstool but not yet acknowledging Syl.

She goes on with her business, finishing a stir fry and plating it for the both of them. She sets a plate in front of Tyson, a sort of peace offering, before taking the seat next to him. They eat in silence until it becomes too deafening for Syl, she doesn’t know if she’s ever heard Tyson so quiet.

She doesn’t quite dare to look over to him yet, “you have been so kind and amazing to take care of us and I really appreciate it, more than you’ll ever really understand.”

“But…” he fills in for Sylvia.

“But,” she takes a deep breath, she wants to get it right this time.

“I want to get back on my feet or I guess find the footing I never had so I don’t have to need your money.”

“Sylvie, I don’t mind. I like helping.”

“What if I never get on my feet?” she finally looks at him giving him a stern look in hopes of getting through to him.

“Then you don’t, it’s fine,” he has this blank look, like he can’t understand there are alternatives.

“Tys this isn’t about you! I want to be able to afford daycare while I go to a job or pay for my own lawyer without relying on you.”

She puts a hand on his arm, gently rubs her thumb up and down his sweatshirt covered bicep.

“The last time I let a man have this much power over my life…” she doesn’t need to finish the sentence, “And I know you’re not him, you could never be like that. But I need the chance to find that independence I’ve never had, even if it’s hard.”

She can feel tears falling down her face, Tyson reaches up to wipe a few away, his own eyes glossy.

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to fight him to get that independence.”

“What did you say before? People like him can’t win?”

Tyson lets out a hesitant laugh, “then let’s kick his ass and take him for all he’s worth.”

Sylvia is finally seeing a rainbow after the storm. For most of her adult life she’s been on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop; if it’s coming soon, she doesn’t care, or at least she knows she can handle it.

Her lawyer seems to think they’re building a solid case. Years of texts and voicemails she was too lazy delete are making quite the damning pile of evidence.

Her new therapist seems to think she’s making good progress, even before they fully cracked open the can of worm that was her marriage.

“Mmm, mmm” Jonah babbles.

“You almost got it Jojo, it’s Ma Ma,” she smiles at him.

“Mmma, mm.”

“I’ll even settle for no,” Syl pauses but he doesn’t respond, “or hi? But Hs are hard.”

“Duh dddd,” he gives a her his gleaming four tooth smile.

“Okay, I don’t know who’s teaching you that one,” she narrows her eyes at him.

“Duh mmmm.”

“Maybe you can try bye bye?”

Jonah happily waves at her, having recently mastered the skill.

“Yeah, bye bye! Can you wave and say bye bye?” She prods.

“Buh duh,” he waves.

“Fine, I guess I can live with your timetable.”

He gurgles and drools in response.

“But Ma Ma was really hoping to write that she was grateful you said your first words this week.”

When he still doesn’t respond, she sighs and writes down her daily gratitudes sans first words. Jonah and Tyson are numbers one and two every day, which she loves but she hates feeling so boring.

Though if she thinks about it, she can’t recall when she was ever actually interesting. She was kind of interesting when she left behind Alberta for Toronto to be with the love of her life, but that didn’t turn out very well.

The next time was probably when she got pregnant, but that’s only in the way that making human life is interesting. And no one was really interested in her then anyway; recently some of the Sabres’ better halves were sharing pregnancy photos and Sylvia only had one mediocre picture a nurse had taken when she was in the early stages of labor. The rest of her pregnancy lost in preparations to flee her own life.

She guesses that makes her interesting, her escape from a bad relationship; not that she’s publicly sharing that information. But she doesn’t want to be interesting because of her trauma.

Tyson comes into the kitchen in a navy blue suit, he gets an excited, goofy grin on his face when he sees Jonah in his tiny Sabres jersey.

“Hey bud, ready for the game?” he waves at the baby who happily waves back, always excited to show off for Tyson.

“He may not know what’s going on but he is a great good luck charm,” Syl laughs at the fact the team of 4-0-1 when Jonah is in the arena.

“You’re both my good luck charms.”

He doesn’t look away from Jonah as he says it, doesn’t see Sylvia’s cheeks heat up as he gives Jonah a raspberry on his where his shoulder meets his neck; for a moment she pictures Tyson’s lips on her neck.

“You ready to help me win Jonah? Can you say Ty-son?”

“Yah duh.”

Sylvia snatches her son, “Mama might not be his first words but if he’s gonna acknowledge a person by name, it’ll be the person who grew him.”

“Fair enough,” he raises his hands in surrender, “well, be good for mama and I’ll see you later.”

He gives Jonah a loud, obnoxious smooch on the cheek then a subtle one to Syl before he heads out.

Jonah continues to be enthralled by hockey, just stares at the ice with big eyes like he understands what’s going on. The only thing he actually understands is that he loves Sabretooth, especially the life-size one who picks him, it’s much better than the small one he drops when the mascot arrives.

Sylvia takes a picture of it and sends it to Tyson’s family. She gets a 50-emoji response from Kacey.

The team wins and Jonah keeps the title of good luck charm, the others joking that he has to come to every home game until they make the playoffs.

“Okay, hand the baby over and enjoy your night out,” Danielle reaches out for Jonah.

Sylvia doesn’t follow orders, just looks confused.

“Sorry I didn’t tell her, I didn’t want her to run away,” Rachel chimes in, sporting a sort of apologetic look, though Syl doesn’t know if it’s directed at her or Danielle.

“Am I having a stroke?”

“No Syl,” Rachel responds, “we got a babysitter for the night and getting you out on the town.”

“You deserve it, now give me Jonah. Tyson dropped of a bag of his stuff he’s in good hands.”

“I don’t like that this was a coordinated effort; do I seem that desperate to go out?”

“No, but you haven’t had a night to yourself since you moved here,” or since you had a kid or God knows since when is implied between Danielle’s words, “so go be young and have fun.”

Sylvia knows when she can’t win a fight so she squeezes her baby tight and kisses him before reluctantly handing him over.

They go to the Thompson’s house and Sylvia gets handed a drink to loosen her up while Rachel does her makeup and finds something for her to wear.

Halfway through the drink Syl feels tipsy, she never was a big drinker and it had been a while, but she’s enjoying the warmth and weirdly the attention she’s getting right now.

“You’re always hot, but damn you really clean up nice,” Rachel smiles at her while she puts on the finishing touches.

She finally looks at herself, it’s like a looking into an alternate universe. Like maybe this would be a normal occurrence if she had gone off to college, made normal 20-something mistakes, had a close group of girlfriends who shared clothes.

She takes moment to mourn that Sylvia.

“Thanks, I can’t remember the last time I wore make up, or a dress,” she laughs and spins around in the mirror.

They arrive at a crowded bar and meander through the crowd until they find the team. Sylvia waves before she feels everyone’s eyes on her, suddenly self-conscious about how she looks.

“Who’s gonna get our girl a drink? Welcome her to the Buffalo night life?” Rachel’s voice cuts through the noise.

Jeff is at the edge of the booth and the first to get up, Sylvia thinks he’s gonna guide her to the bar but instead he guides her to take his seat, conveniently next to Tyson, before he takes her order.

“Surprise me,” she says before she rethinks it, “but nothing too strong.”

She awkwardly readjusts her skirt that has ridden up too high, she’s too aware of the eyes on her and the weight of Tyson’s arm that’s now wrapped around her shoulder.

Sylvia hadn’t gone out in years; it was always a whole ordeal only for her to get in trouble. She always had to look nice, but if she looked too nice, she was accused of trying to attract male attention. If she went to the bar for too long, it was because she had to be flirting. If she danced too long or in a certain way or with anyone who wasn’t him, she had to expect a long lecture and some verbal degradation.

Going out meant being emotionally exhausted and in a way, she could feel that exhaustion already seeping in.

Jeff comes back and drops a drink in front of her, waiting for her to take a sip of approval. She gives him a thumbs up after tasting the semi-sweet concoction, she’s not sure what it is but it’s good.

“Cheers to mom’s night out,” Rachel holds up a drink and they all cheers.

This drink goes to her head much quicker, probably because she’s taking nervous sips every two seconds.

Suddenly she stands up, a little wobbly on her feet, Tyson grabs her hand to steady her or maybe concerned she’s about to run or something.

“I’m gonna go dance,” she doesn’t yell so she’s not sure anyone hears her, but she wanders onto the dance floor anyway.

It feels freeing, to just let go for a bit and dance. She forgets about her problems and the other people around. It’s a moment of pure joy she hasn’t felt for just herself in a long time. It feels like she’s shaking rust off her heart.

Syl feels someone come up behind her, warmth radiating. She doesn’t care to look just happy to keep dancing to the beat of whatever song. Still, she gives a little start when she feels hands on her hips, it’s a foreign feeling.

Before she can move to look behind her, she sees Tyson move in front of her, she can feel her smile growing. She moves a hand to pull Tyson closer the her, feeling the large warm hands retreat. In her hazy mind she thinks she’s a gloating glint in Tyson’s eyes but when she turns to look, there’s only the mass of the crowd, not one person standing out.

Tyson and Sylvia aren’t really touching while they dance. Syl can’t bring herself to look away from his warm brown eyes, she finds herself thinking about how long and thick his eyelashes are, that Tyson is very pretty. Before she can voice some of these thoughts, she feels her eyes drooping.

“It’s pretty late for mom’s first night out,” he leans in to whisper into her ear, it makes Syl shiver a bit, “want to head home?”

Syl can only nod suddenly feeling very overstimulated.

As they make it home, she feels like she’s only getting drunker. Even though she stopped drinking a while ago. Tyson ushers her into the kitchen and gets her a glass of water.

“Oh no, I’m still wearing Rachel’s clothes.”

Tyson chuckles, “you weren’t exactly going to return them in the bar.”

Sylvia shrugs and downs half the glass of water; she holds it out to Tyson for a refill.

“I miss Jonah. This is the first time I won’t be able to kiss him good night,” it feels weird to have her heart somewhere else.

“You can give him extra kisses tomorrow,” Tyson gives her a hug.

He starts to pull away but Syl doesn’t quite let go, “I can still give you a goodnight kiss.”

She leans up to close the distance between them, she would normally go for a quick peck on the cheek but she doesn’t start to turn her head. They’re lips touch and it should be quick, it should be over already, but it’s not.

There’s too much heat and Sylvia doesn’t who it’s coming from. She doesn’t know whose tongue comes out first, but it doesn’t make either pull away. It’s an unfamiliar feeling that radiates through her chest and she wants to see where it takes her, but it’s also too scary and she can’t possibly go through it without perishing.

She pulls away too quickly and almost falls off the bar stool, Tyson catches her by the waist and it lights her skin on fire.

“Well, good night!”

Sylvia rushes to her room, she falls back on her bed; touching her lips with awe, like it will keep the sensation there longer.

Tyson leaves on a road trip the next day. He comes in to check on her before he leaves, but Syl pretends to be asleep. Not ready for any conversation or to look Tyson in the eyes. Still, he moves deeper in the room, kissing her forehead before he leaves.

So, at least she knows he doesn’t hate her.

She texts Danielle later about dropping off Jonah, claiming she has a raging hangover and couldn’t possibly leave the house. It’s partially true, there’s persistent but dull ache in her head. It may be from thinking too hard about the kiss though.

Once Jonah is home, Sylvia can’t let him out of her arms, he’s the anchor keeping her grounded while her brain is all static. She spends most of the day snoozing with Jonah pressed up against her.

The following day she tries to get her head on straight, come up with a game plan for talking about the kiss. She doesn’t have much time with Tyson set to return that evening and with Jonah having an unexplainable meltdown.

She tries to put on a calming demeanor, but it’s like Jonah can sense the worried churning in his mom’s stomach. He’s only communicating his concern in the best way he can, but it doesn’t make the day easier.

She can’t pinpoint the moment her feelings changed and maybe that’s what makes it scarier. It feels a bit out of the blue, she had no time to gauge Tyson’s thoughts before her inhibitions were down and she was acting on it.

All Sylvia knows is friendship isn’t enough for her anymore.

In a panic she packs a go-bag, a déjà vu moment she was never hoping to repeat. But she has no idea what’s to come and she doesn’t want to be a burden in Tyson’s house with any unresolved feelings.

She doesn’t even know where she would go this time around, all her friends are Tyson’s friends first. If it weren’t for her baby she’d just sleep in her car. Maybe she could haul ass to Edmonton.

There’s no time to dwell, Jonah is screaming in her ear and she can’t think over the din.

Tyson comes home to screaming, which is oddly comforting for him. He was a bit worried Sylvia might leave in a panic, embarrassed about the kiss.

“Hey Sylvie,” he says quietly.

“Hi Tys,” she looks exasperated, “I don’t know what’s wrong, I’ve tried everything.”

Jonah continues to cry, knocking over a bowl of food and making a mess. Sylvia looks a second away from breaking down with him, but she’s not looking away from Tyson to notice the chaos.

“Let me try,” he gets Jonah out of the highchair and bounces him on his hip.

Jonah doesn’t stop. But Tyson looks so natural with her son, Sylvia has to have this conversation now. She can’t live in this fantasy world a moment longer if it’s going to be snatched from her.

“I’m not sorry I kissed you,” she nearly shouts, making sure Tyson can hear her.

She flinches out her own loud voice and tones it down, “I mean I’m sorry for the when and the how of the kiss but I’m not sorry it happened.”

Tyson just has this unreadable look on his face, he stares on as he rocks Jonah, who’s screams are subsiding a little.

“You’re good to my son and you’re good to me. And maybe I don’t deserve that or deserve you. But I want you and I can’t help it,” her eyes well up as she exposes her heart.

Her heart hurts too much in the extended silence from Tyson. It’s like it can’t pump enough blood any more, like it doesn’t understand how it was even working before she loved Tyson; like it can’t survive a minute longer not loving him wholly.

“And if you don’t want that, I get that. My life is a mess and I have so much baggage,” she can’t hold back the sob in her throat, “We can leave if this is too much.”

“No!”

It takes her second to grasp that the voice is small and foreign.

“No” Jonah says again.

“Did you just say your first word?” Her tears quickly shifting focus.

“No”

She can’t stop herself from coming over and kissing her son all over his face to a chorus of little nos.

“Kid stole my line.”

Sylvia is jolted back into the moment. She looks up into deep brown eyes, their bodies are too close together.

“I don’t know what that guy did to you and you don’t ever have to tell me, but it makes me so angry that he made you think you aren’t worth it or don’t deserve good things.”

He has blink back some tears, Sylvia can’t stop herself wiping the stray ones away.

“Syl, you’re kind and loving and an amazing mother. You deserve the world and I want to be the one who gives that to you.”

She can’t stop herself from going for the kiss, Tyson is left so breathless he almost forgets he’s still holding a baby. It’s not as heated as the last kiss, but it says everything much clearer.

“No!”

“Yeah we get it bud,” Tyson laughs when they break a part, “You said your first word, the moment is all yours.”

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