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I ruffle his hair. “That’s great, sweetheart.” Then I look to Judy. “Do you like it?” I value her opinion so much.
“It’s nice, sweetheart.” She doesn’t seem really enthused. Of course, she hasn’t been a fan of the other two either.
I follow the realtor toward the bedrooms. “As you can see, the master bedroom has its own private bath. The previous owners had just had it remodeled before he got transferred.”
The bathroom has the coolest sink—the bowl sits on top of the counter and it’s a brownish glass. The tub is like a large, modern version of a clawfoot bath. The shower is surrounded by glass and has one of those shower heads that makes it look like it’s raining.
I make my way out to the living room and find Tripp sitting on the floor, watching something on his tablet, and Judy is typing on her phone. “If you’re tired of this, I can just meet you at the restaurant.”
She comes toward me. “No, I’m sorry. I should be more supportive. This is my favorite so far. Mick could definitely get a security system set up here.” Of course, he would. They’re too good to me.
“This just might be the one.” I lean in, whispering to Judy. Rebecca comes walking back into the living. “Am I at risk of losing this house if I don’t put in an offer right now?”
The curvy blonde shakes her head. “No, this hasn’t officially gone on the market yet. You’re safe waiting until tomorrow, but no later.”
“Great, I’ll call you tomorrow,” I tell her and then shake her hand. Tripp surprises me by running up to me, taking my hand in his.
“Nice meeting you guys.” She smiles at Tripp and then looks back at me. “Your son is so cute and so well-behaved.”
I don’t correct her, but that’s only because the sweet little boy smiles up at me, looking so much like Hank, my heart races and my eyes burn. Instead of letting go, with his hand in mine, I lead him outside.
I help him into the back seat. He smiles at me as I buckle him in. This boy is just too sweet. Once he’s strapped in, I bop him on the nose with my finger.
I climb into the driver’s side and Judy gets in the other side and we head across town to Chili’s. What can I say? I love their bottomless chips and salsa. Inside the restaurant, the hostess takes us to a table.
“Brooke, can I sit by you?”
How could I possibly say no to this little cutie pie? “Of course.”
He slides into the booth, scooting as close to me as he can get. I look up and Judy’s watching us with a sweet, but sad smile on her face.
Before I can do anything about it, our waitress interrupts us. “Hey guys, can I get you something to drink?”
We order iced teas and Tripp asks for a Sprite. He smiles up at her, and without thinking, I wrap my arm around his shoulders and hug him to my side.
It takes a second to register what I’ve just done, and my mind screams to let him go, that he’s the reason Hank and I aren’t together, but my heart reminds me that he’s just an innocent child, and none of this is his fault.
I take a deep breath and look up to find Judy watching me. “Are you okay?”
I nod. That’s all I can do. Again, without thinking, I kiss the top of Tripp’s head. He smells like Johnson’s baby shampoo and my heart aches. Gage smelled the same way, and I would spend, what felt like hours, sniffing his hair.
The waitress sets our drinks down and then takes our order. Once she’s gone, I take a huge drink because my throat is dry as a bone. I set my glass down. “I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.”
Once I’m in the stall, I take a minute to take a deep, cleansing breath. Why do I feel guilty that I was loving on that sweet little boy? Logically, I know it is not a betrayal to my baby boy.
My head is just all over the place after everything that’s happened lately; from Austin hurting me, to Hank barging back into my life, to spending time with Tripp, selling my house, and still grieving my son.
I shake out my hands and grab the little plastic case out of my pocket. After opening it, I grab the little blue pill and dry swallow it. “Get it together, Brooke,” I mouth.
Standing up, I step out of the stall and head back to the table.
***
Knock, knock, knock. There’s a faint knocking at the back door. I get up from grading papers and step into the kitchen. I peer out the window, but don’t see anyone. I know better than to open it, but double-check that it’s locked.
Maybe I was just hearing things. I turn around and freeze. “W-What are you doing here, Austin?”
“You’re going to tell that biker trash ex-husband of yours to quit trying to find me. I want my fucking life back—I’m tired of running.” He takes a step toward me, but I back away, putting the kitchen table between us. “I’m sorry I hurt you, but you hurt me too.”
