Page 27 of Parentmoon

“Why aren’t you still married?”

His curiosity surprises me. “Surely, Michael has told you that story. Craig cheated on me. I didn’t love him anymore. And I’m not certain he ever loved me.”

The admission still hurts but raising a child together doesn’t mean undying love for one another. It meant we were parents too young and a little dazed, thinking love bonded us together when the only true tie between us was Michael.

Dallas’s face scrunches. His expression puzzled. “You don’t really believe that.”

I shrug. “Marriage is hard work, and as much as I put in, I wasn’t getting anything back out.”

“He sounds selfish.”

“He was also an alcoholic. Vodka was his favorite mistress, even before the woman he cheated on me with. Twice.”

The seven-year itch struck not only once, but a second time. When Michael was fourteen Craig fell into bed with the same woman again. He begged my forgiveness the first time, and like a fool, I forgave him. The second time, well, shame on me for not seeing the signs. I wasn’t duped again, though.

“Men can be dicks.” Dallas’s rugged voice hardens. His eyes narrow, murderous even. His expression is sweet in a warped way.

“They think with them often enough,” I bitterly joke, hoping to shift us away from the topic of my previous marriage.

Dallas is quiet a moment, watching me, looking at my eyes before his gaze stumbles to my mouth. “It wasn’t just my dick thinking this morning.” He runs a fingertip along my nose.

Could it be his heart recognized something in mine? What a silly thought. It was one night, or rather, early morning.

“Was that your way of flirting with me?” Humor is absent from my voice as I struggle to understand what just happened between us.

“Not much of a flirt.” A serious tone dominates his rugged voice.

The honesty in his confession has me blinking a few times in confusion. “You forget, I’ve seen you in action.”

Dallas gives me a quizzical look.

“The night we met. You went off with someone you recognized at the bar.”

“Yeah, you mentioned something like that the other night. Chasing some skirt, was it?” He huffs. “But I didn’t go off with anyone that night.”

Is he kidding me? “I saw you.” He left the table and when I looked back the woman by the bar was gone as well.

“You didn’t see anything. I left to clear my head. Alone.”

His tone turns incredulous, and new bells go off in my head, only these are dim, like a distant, echoing gong.

“There was a woman by the bar.” I stare at him, willing him to tell me the truth. She left with him, right?

“I have no idea what the hell you are talking about.”

“Then why else would you leave the dinner?” To clear his head? “Too much wedding talk?” Snark fills my voice. The moment comes back to me. The excitement in Keli’s announcement. The pride in Michael’s face. They were so in love.

“Too much love sitting at that table.” Dallas’s gaze doesn’t leave my eyes. “Michael and Keli for each other. And I saw how much you adore my girl. Know how much you love your son. There wasn’t a seat for me.”

“What?” I whisper. What does he mean? He was sitting right there with us.

“Two plus two is two, darlin’. Michael and Keli. You and Michael. Hell, maybe even Keli and me. But the scales tipped that night in your favor.”

I still don’t understand. “Love doesn’t work like that. It isn’t measurable in favorites.”

Dallas shakes his head. “No one has ever looked at me the way Keli and Michael look at one another.” He swallows. “And you, how you gaze at Michael. So proud. So . . . enamored.”

“You’re proud of your daughter. And she loves you.” Even if Dallas exited that first meal before dessert, Keli has never faltered in her praise and admiration of her dad.