AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Carol
Danielisanabsolutedelight. He walks me through every single drawing, explaining in detail each sea creature he has drawn. He is indeed talented.
“And this one is a puffer fish.” He waves the drawing in the air and hands it to me. It looks funny, like a balloon almost, with tiny spikes all over it.
“It’s not this big all the time. When it gets scared it sucks in water like this—” He takes a deep breath and makes a circle with his arms. “To scare the other fish.”
I’ve only been here for about thirty minutes but that’s enough to make Daniel forget all about this disappointment with his mother, at least for the moment.
“It doesn’t look that scary,” I counter and run my hand through his messy curls. Daniel giggles and insists that the little balloon is frightening, and for a split second I think that if Brian hadn’t left, we might—
I sigh. Why am I doing this to myself? This is supposed to be just a fun way to get back at him, not a deep dive into his life and my feelings.
But I’m here now, right?
Rose has been texting me non-stop since I left for the restaurant, but I’ve only replied to a couple of her messages. Now I do my best to ignore the tiny vibrations coming from my purse.
Daniel finishes his adorable presentation and informs me of his other projects. “I have a whole drawing place in this house. My old room was bigger but this one has a big desk with lots of drawers, and there’s a board on the wall.”
“Daniel, it’s a bit late, don’t you think?” Brian interrupts him. He’s been busy in the kitchen ever since the nanny left, making us dinner. His apartment is very simple, much like mine, especially the open kitchen. “It’s about your bedtime and Carol and I have some work to do.” He points at his briefcase.
“Uh-huh,” Daniel doesn’t seem swayed by that. “Carol, how did you meet my dad?” I’m not sure how to answer that but he continues before I respond, “Because, he’s never had a friend over.”
My heart flutters at the thought of being the only one of Brian’s female friends that he’s introduced to his son.
“We met a few years ago,” Brian explains, leaning over the counter. “When I was still teaching.”
“You were her teacher?” Daniel frowns and turns to me. “How old are you?”
“Daniel.” Brian’s voice is steady, with no hint of anger or disapproval.
“Twenty-Eight.” Despite everything I have done so far in order not to appear single—and all the implications that come with it—I don’t have any issues with my age. Getting older means living more and enjoying life.
“Huh,” Daniel says. “My mom’s very old. Like Dad, I think.”
There’s a snort from the kitchen. “Your dad’s not old, young man,” Brian boasts.
“That’s such an old person’s reply,” I blurt out and Daniel giggles again. He leans into me for a hug and then yawns.
“Come on, little buddy, you need some rest.” Brian plants a kiss on his son’s forehead and carries him to the hallway, half asleep.
I press my back on the sofa and rub my eyes, suddenly feeling just as tired as Daniel. Seeing Brian like this—I can’t help but admire how he’s handled the situation with his son. He has really tried to be better than his father.
“He fell asleep almost immediately.” Brian winks at me and goes to set the table. He puts two white plates side by side, accompanied by two tall glasses of red wine. “Spaghetti alla Bolognese with prosciutto,” he announces.
My favorite. Back then he’d insisted that I had messed up the original recipe—and taste—by adding bacon. Tonight though, it doesn’t matter that he remembers.
I twirl the spaghetti around my fork and bring it to my mouth. It does smell delicious. The taste is just as good.
Brian looks at me intensely, barely touching his own plate. “Tell me a bit about your life. If we’re going to pretend, I need to know what you’ve been up to all these years.”
“Not much. I graduated a year after you left, went back home, got a job, then another, then I came to New York. We can skip the details. My family won’t be quizzing you about these things,” I point out. But they’ll definitely ask why Brian left me and how we got back together.
He seems intrigued by my unwillingness to share things about my life. “Carol, I know you are still mad. I’m sorry. I get how hurt you were. If I could turn back time, I’d do everything differently, believe me.”
I smile reaching for his hand, brushing my fingers against his knuckles. “Let’s focus on the future, shall we?”
He sets his palm on mine, locking my hand there. “That’s what I want too.”
