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Braden
“You sure you don’t want me to stay?” Brent asks.
Fuck no.
“I’m good. Maia will be here soon.”
“Maia, huh? What’s the deal there?”
Fucker. He’s done nothing but push my buttons.
“The deal is she’s the mother of my child, and hopefully, we have a long friendship and a healthy co-parenting relationship in front of us.”
“But nothing else?”
“She’s with Vince,” I bite back, unsure of exactly who I’m angry at.
“How’d that happen?”
“Why do you care?”Also, I don’t really know.
He huffs out a sigh. “You’re still pissed at me?”
“Yes. Showing up for seven days doesn’t negate fucking off for seven years. You have no idea…”
He rises from his chair and comes to stand next to the bed. “No idea what? Tell me. Get pissed at me. But say something. I can’t fix this if you always shut down.”
“Well, that’s my base state these days. There’s so much shit to work through physically and emotionally from what I fucked up. I’m sorry, but making you feel better for howyoufucked up is low on my priority list right now.”
He sighs and glances at the clock. “I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get to it when you’re ready. For now, I guess I’ll get out of your hair.”
I squint my eyes closed. I’ve been given an endless supply of second chances. He deserves a chance, doesn’t he?
“Thanks for hanging out with me this afternoon. We’ll… get there.” I grimace at how cheesy the words sound coming out of my mouth.
He chuckles. “Wow. That was so heartfelt. I’ve got job interviews tomorrow, but I’ll stop by on Tuesday, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
The door swings open, but to my surprise, it’s not Maia who steps around the curtain. It’s Vince.
Brent looks from me to Vince and back again. “All right, well, I’m gonna get out of here.” He leans toward me and in a low voice says, “Have fun with that.” He gives Vince a nod, then leaves.
The silence that follows the door closing is suffocating. Vince and I stare awkwardly at each other.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying not to sound like an asshole.
His stance softens and his eyes widen. “Did Maia not tell you?”
I grab my phone off the nearby table but see no texts. “Uh, no. What’s going on?”
“She and Harper have a stomach bug.”
“They okay?”
“Harper seems a little better. Maia is still feeling rough, but she was insistent that I come up today.”
And she didn’t text me. Of course.
