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I was so preoccupied with my shock to see Ant again that I had all but forgotten about Tess and what she may or may not be facing upstairs at the present moment.
“How do you think it’s going?” I ask.
“Hard to say.” He shrugs. “But if I had to guess, I’d say they’re definitely to third base by now.”
“Oh my god,” I laugh, shaking my head. “Of course, you would say that.”
“What?” He grins. “I’m just saying, it’s probably true.”
“Ugh, you’re probably right,” I laugh out in agreement.
“So how are you, Bree, really?” Ant refocuses, the last part of his sentence feeling a bit accusatory.
“I’m great. Perfect actually. How about you?”
“Well, I up and moved across the country on a whim with no real idea of what the hell I’m going to do with myself next, so I’d say I’m pretty much fucked at the current moment.” He smiles, despite the seriousness of his words.
“Tell me how you really feel,” I joke, sensing that he needs the lighthearted banter.
“So… Perfect huh?” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his blue/gray eyes never leaving mine.
“What?” I blurt, confused by his question.
“You said you were perfect,” he reminds me of my earlier statement.
“Oh, yeah. Well, perfect might be too strong of a word. But I’m doing okay.”
“And how’s Jackson?” The fact that he remembers my son’s name surprises me a bit. Then again, Ant has always been good at holding on to details.
In high school, we used to joke that he could walk into any room for thirty seconds and then walk back out, able to recount exact details of what the twenty people inside were doing without a second thought.
“He’s good, getting big.” I smile at the thought of the one human being who means more to me than any other person on this earth.
“I bet. How old is he now, five?”
“Yep, just turned five actually.”
“Ever hear from Blake?” The minute the question leaves his lips I can tell he wishes he could take it back. I understand his hesitance to ask about Jackson’s father, but it doesn’t bother me that he did.
“No, though I never actually expected to. That was kinda the point in coming here.” I shrug, knowing it certainly wasn’t the only reason.
Getting my son away from my mother was another big reason I left the only home I had ever known and moved from Connecticut to California to live with my grandparents when I was only seventeen.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I asked that.”
“Don’t be, it’s fine.” I wave a hand through the air. “I never got to properly thank you for everything you did for me that night.” The statement leaves my lips on a rush, and it takes me a beat to realize that I just said the words out loud.
I can tell by the look on Ant’s face that he knows exactly what I’m referring to, and a sad smile pulls up one side of his mouth like he’s just not quite sure how to react to what I just said.
“You don’t ever need to thank me for that,” he says after thinking over it for a long moment. “He’s just lucky I didn’t kill him for putting his hands on you, or Tess for that matter.” A hint of anger crosses his handsome face.
“Well, thank you anyway. And thank you for not blabbing about what you saw to the whole school. It was hard enough having people whisper about how the school slut had gotten knocked up at sixteen. I can only imagine what they would’ve said had they known that I was also letting the guy who got me pregnant beat on me for sport.”
“Hey.” Ant takes a step toward me, somehow sensing the shift in my demeanor.
“It’s okay.” I shake it off, my easy smile falling back into place.
This is what I do, the mask I wear. Every once in a great while, I let the wall slip; though, it’s almost always Tess or Court who get to see inside. Never a person like Ant—someone I haven’t seen in years and am no longer particularly close to. I wish I could say this thought doesn’t bother me, but truthfully it does; which I guess is why a tight knot has formed in the pit of my stomach, and I suddenly feel slightly panicked.
