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He’s here? He brought it himself?
Me: Why are you being so thoughtful?
Tall, Dark and Handsome: Why wouldn’t I be?
That’s an excellent question. I just didn’t expect that a man who could have anything, or anyone he wanted, would take the time to look after me. I’m not special. I’m not a genius like him. I’m pretty enough, but I’m not a bombshell. I’m just average. It never would have occurred to Jake to do something like this unless I asked.
Lauren comes back into the room carrying a cardboard tray, two coffee cups stuck in it with a brown paper bag between them. The scent of fresh, hot coffee and some kind of pastry tickles my nose. “Girl, if you don’t want him, can I have him?”
“No.” The word is out my mouth before I can think, earning me a knowing wink.
“Thank the man. And don’t think I didn’t notice the matching t-shirt/sweatpants combo you two have going on.” She opens the bag and hands me a cheese danish. Of course he remembered.
Me: Thank you for the coffee and danish.
Tall, Dark and Handsome: Least I could do. How’s Emma?
Me: She has to have an emergency appendectomy. They just took her in.
Tall, Dark and Handsome: If you need anything let me know.
What I need is a million dollars and double the amount of hours in the day, but a kind word is good too.
We’ve been waiting about forty-five minutes when Jake comes strolling into the room.
“Nice of you to show up.” Lauren’s sarcastic remark pulls me from the exhausted whirlwind of my thoughts.
A heavy hand settles on my shoulder. “Fuck you too, Lauren.” Jake squeezes my shoulder, the familiar gesture no longer bringing me comfort the way it used to. It used to feel like he was giving me a mini hug when he did that, now it’s just one more reminder that I spent the last sixteen years with this excuse for a man, dragging him along through life. “Any word?”
Maybe it’s because I’m sleep-deprived, maybe it’s because I’m sick with worry, but I can’t stop myself from snapping back at him. “Oh, now you care? Where have you been for the last few hours, huh?” I twist to look up at him, knocking his hand off me. “Your daughter was in pain and in the E.R. and you only bothered to show up now?”
Jake's face turns hard. “Some of us have responsibilities. I couldn’t just leave Kasidee the second Lauren texted. Besides, it’s not like Emma needed me, she had you.”
Slumping back in my chair in defeat, I swallow my words. He’s right, I’ve always been the one to take care of Emma, to put her needs before mine. Since I was pregnant and struggling to finish my college classes—I’ve put her first, unlike Jake. Even though I was the one to actually graduate and he dropped out, it wasn’t to get a job like he claims. He was already failing his classes and in danger of being kicked out before we even found out Emma was on the way. Our courthouse wedding so he could “do the right thing” was his excuse to quit before anyone found out.
Why would I expect anything to change, especially now that we’re divorced?
“Do you hear yourself?” Lauren’s question infiltrates the guilt eating at me. “Your daughter is in the hospital and you didn’t feel a need to be here because Sophie would? Did it ever occur to you that Sophie might not enjoy the responsibility of dealing with all of your shit? And that Emma might want you here to show that you actually care about her? For fucks’s sake, Jake.”
“Whatever, Lauren. Thank Christ I don’t have to deal with your shit anymore. It was like being married to both of you. The Harpy and the Shrew.” Jake’s shudder of disgust sends another wave of guilt through me. Had my friendship with Lauren really been such an issue? Had I ruined our marriage because I’d been leaning on Lauren for the support Jake didn’t give me?
The sound of metal wheels and creaking plastic has me on my feet and peeking down the corridor, ignoring the argument heating up between Jake and Lauren. I can’t tell if the lump on the hospital bed making its way towards me is my Emma or not. When the nurses turn to bring her inside the room, I scoot out of the way while they wheel her in.
Jake and Lauren’s bickering doesn’t matter—I only have eyes and ears for my daughter and Doctor Garcia. The argument has wound down by the time the nurses and doctor leave us with a sleeping Emma. I stroke her hair and watch for signs of her waking, my phone clutched in my hand for security. The buzz of a text coming through startles me from my reverie.
Tall, Dark and Handsome: Is she still in surgery? What can I do to help?
The smile that creeps across my face is equal parts relief that Emma’s going to be okay, and excitement at the very handsome man whose bed I was in last night.
Me: Just got out. Everything went smoothly. Thank you for offering, but we’re good.
Looking up at the man I’d been married to since I was barely twenty, who hasn’t asked if I needed anything for years, who was just one more weight for me to drag through life, I can’t believe I ever fell for his crap. I would have been better off raising Emma on my own than shackling us both to his dead weight.
And there’s another reason why Theo can only ever be a fantasy. I’m not willing to give up my chance to be free. Was it an amazing weekend? Absolutely. But it’s going to take a lot more than a weekend of amazing sex to make me hand over control of my life again.
Twenty
Theo
