AllFreeNovel
Share Us
No. Oh, no. This is bad. This is so bad, it’s not even funny.
The woman I’ve been texting, flirting with…that’sMia? The woman who makes me chuckle with messages every couple of days, the one who wants to take it slow.
I’ve organized a date with Mia for next Friday night.
I turn my head to look at the closed door separating the apartment from the barbershop. She’s just beyond it, cutting and shaving and primping the men of Heart’s Cove. And she has no idea.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m halfway to the door—and I stop short.
If I admit that I’m TallDarkandHandy, she’ll cancel the date. There’s no question in my mind, no doubts whatsoever. If I walk in there and I tell her that she’s going out to dinner with me, it’ll never happen.
Blood rushing in my ears, I stand still in the hallway, not knowing what to do.
Suddenly, my date on Friday is much more exciting. I could sit across from her, in a candlelit restaurant, drinking wine, making her laugh…
I want that.
God, I want that so much.
I want to see her dressed up, with her golden hair curled around her face, and I want her to look at me like I mean something to her.
Maybe…maybe if I don’t tell her about the date, she’ll show up…and stay?
No. I have to tell her.
The image of Mia on my arm at my family’s Thanksgiving reunion pops into my head again. Now it doesn’t seem so far-fetched. I’ll take her out, wine her and dine her, let her know that I never meant to make her life difficult. I raised the rent on her place because my grandparents’ finances were in bad shape and they needed cash. My grandfather’s medical bills are mounting, and although they have five properties in town, they’re remarkably cash poor. The previous property manager stole so much money from them and left most of their properties in such disrepair that Ihadto raise all the rents just to try to generate some money to be able to fix the Seventh Ave condos up for sale.
I’ll explain this to Mia. She’ll understand.
A dinner date is the perfect time to do it.
5
MIA
Today was awful.By the time Bailey is in bed, I feel like I’ve been up for thirty hours or more. My body aches, my eyes itch with tiredness, but I can’t quite get myself to relax. I already know I won’t be able to sleep.
Instead, I brew a mug of peppermint tea and snuggle on the leather couch in the living room. Unfortunately, the remote is way over on the coffee table, so it looks like I won’t be watching any television right now. As a poor substitute, I stare at my phone—specifically, I stare at the little red notification on my email icon.
Colin didn’t waste any time. I saw his name pop up on my screen when Desmond left the barbershop after his shave, and I almost threw my phone through the front window. I’m not entirely crazy, though, so instead I just swiped to ignore the notification and pretended it didn’t exist, like the rational adult I am.
Bailey came home in a whirlwind, excited by her third week of school, telling me she’d decided to play basketball again this year. Then she frowned at me and asked if we’d have enough money for her to participate, and my heart just shattered into a million pieces. She shouldn’t be worrying about that stuff.
I feel absolutely pummeled by life right now. Today was just one reminder after another that I haven’t provided my daughter with a good life. First, there was the old, crappy apartment. It felt good in the moment to sling insults at Desmond, watch them land against his big, muscular chest. In my anger, I loved telling him about everything that was wrong with the home I’d made for me and Bailey…but in the end, all it did was remind me of everything I’ve put up with over the years.
Then I had a big, fat reminder that my daughter grew up without a father—and she’s already worried about money.
That’s all my fault.
Bailey deserves better. She deserves not to worry about money. She’s achild. She should be able to play sports and go to school and learn an instrument and do whatever she wants. And even though I’d like to delete Colin’s email without reading it, I know that my daughter deserves the chance to at least meet her own father.
So, I open the email.
Mia,
First of all, I’d like to apologize. I walked away from you and Bailey a decade ago, signed away my parental rights, and thought I’d never look back. I’m sorry for putting you in that position. It was selfish.
I find myself looking back now. My brother just had his first kid, a boy, and I’m realizing how much I missed. All those years, and I didn’t even realize what I gave up.
