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I continue before she can interrupt. “He moved on. He’s not incapable of commitment . He just never wanted it with me.”

Chapter eleven

Simon

Imiss the target by a whole inch and curse under my breath, the shot still echoing off the concrete walls. The range is loud, the air thick with cordite, but it doesn’t drown out the irritation still simmering in my chest. I adjust my grip, line up again, and try to focus.

Maddox stands beside me, ear pro hanging around his neck. “So she just showed up anyway?”

“Yep,” I mutter, squeezing off another round. Center mass this time. “Told her I had Theo and I didn’t want to have that talk right then, but she came anyway. Parked in my driveway and we got into this huge screaming match. Theo saw the whole thing.”

Maddox grunts. “She doesn’t even give a damn about Theo. She’s just pissed she’s not your top priority.”

I reload without looking at him. “She gets this face every time I bring him up—like I’m wasting her time. But the second Blaire’s name slips out, even in passing, she gets pissed off and suddenly it’s a fight about if I’m in love with Blaire still or not.”

“So are you ever going to accept that you’re still in love with Blaire?”

I keep my eyes on the target. “Blaire isn’t in love with me, and she’s moved on. Theo said she’s dating someone now.”

The next shot goes wide. I exhale hard through my nose.

Maddox shakes his head. “Man, you’re a fucking dumbass. Blaire is in love with you,” he says flatly. “You and Blaire seem to be the only people who don’t know that. So fucking what if she went on a couple dates? That’s your kid’s mom. Go nut up and tell her how you feel.”

The paper target flutters on its track. I stare at the holes I’ve put through it and stay quiet.

Chapter twelve

Blaire

As if my day isn’t already circling the drain.

I spend twenty minutes on the phone with Johnathon that morning, trying to find the least insane way to say, “I’m really sorry, you’re a great guy, but my ex called me drunk last weekend asking for a ride and it made me realize I’m still in love with him, so going on a date with you tonight feels like cheating.” In the end I go with the gentler version—that I’m not in the right headspace to start anything new—and he takes it with a quiet, disappointed “Okay. I get it.” I hate how relieved I feel when he hangs up.

Then work turns into an absolute disaster. None of the kids want to focus. Half of them are buzzing about Oktoberfest this weekend, and the other half are dissecting relationship drama that feels personally aimed at me.

“Ashley dumped Dylan because she’s still not over Alexander.”

Wow. Crazy. Couldn’t be me. Not at all. Definitely not sitting here questioning every life choice I’ve made because of feelings for an ex-boyfriend. Nope. Completely unrelated.

By the time I escape school and make it to Theo’s preschool pickup, I feel like I’ve aged ten years. At least I get to see my kid. That usually helps.

“Mama!”

Theo comes sprinting the second he spots me. I bend down, catch him, and kiss the top of his head. “Hey, baby.”

I get him buckled into his car seat, climb behind the wheel, and the second the door shuts, he starts talking.

“Daddy got in trouble.”

I freeze, then slowly start the car. “What kind of trouble?”

“There was yelling.”

My stomach drops. “What?”

Theo nods seriously. “Daddy yelled. At his girlfriend.”

I close my eyes for a second. Of course. Of fucking course.