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“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Jake straightened and extended his hand like a tiny soldier, and as adorable as it was, my heart pained a little because it wasn’t my son;it was how Stan wanted Jake to be.More than polite; he wanted him to be perfect.
The perfect replica of himself.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Zeke replied, but before he could shake Jake’s hand, a voice boomed and sent a chill through my veins.
“Jake.”
Jake turned, his arm falling to his side as his dad approached.
My heart beat into my throat. Seven months since I’d seen the man who destroyed my life. In uniform, with his blonde hair perfectly slicked back, his dark sunglasses, and a wide smile, I was instantly reminded how easy it was to fall for him. He was a paramedic Ken doll come to life.
“Hello, Mackenzie.” He slid his glasses back, staring down at me with bright blue eyes, clear and confident like I would always be powerless next to him.
I scrambled to stand, wincing when I saw the dirt stains on Callie’s dress. It was just dirt. It would wash off. I stood too quickly. Nerves and no breakfast colliding to make the blood rush from my head, and my body sway.
And then Zeke’s warm hand was gently on my arm, steadying me.
I swallowed, refusing to look away from my ex—refusing to give him that power. “Stan,” I greeted coldly.
Instantly, his head snapped to Zeke. “And you are…”
“Zeke Williams,” Zeke introduced himself smoothly, taking his hand from my arm and extending it to Stan. “I’m Kenzie’s lawyer.”
Stan gave him a once over, the briefest flicker in his eyes when Zeke called me Kenzie, and then shook his hand with a laugh. “Don’t tell Bobby that lawyers outside the city don’t wear suits, or he might drop me as a client,” he said, using his head to motion to where his lawyer stood a few paces behind like an obedient guard dog.
The barb was subtle. Small. Made even smaller by Stan’s genial smile and the way he followed it with, “It’s nice to meet you, Zeke. Stan Klinger.” The words… the tone… it was an exact replica of how Jake had introduced himself, and it made me nauseous. “I really appreciate you bringing Mackenzie here today. I’d love to be more flexible, but the job means I’m pretty much always on duty.”
Bile seeped into my mouth as he motioned to his EMT uniform.There was a special brand of conceit that could make someone hate a paramedic, but Stan possessed it.
“I’m happy to be there whenever Kenzie needs me,” Zeke replied smoothly, and I could’ve kissed him for the subtle but not-so-subtle thread of possessive dedication in his tone.
Stan caught it, too, and I saw his lip twitch. “Glad to hear it,” he said. “We all just want Mackenzie to get better and come home.”
Now it was my turn to tense. I was never going back with him, but the fact that he thought I would…
“Jake, do you want to go back over to the swings? I can push—”
“Hey, bud. I have a better idea.”Another barb.Stan gripped Jake’s shoulder. “Why don’t you show your mom some of your soccer moves?” He pointed to the soccer ball left by the swing set.
“Soccer?” I choked out.
Jake nodded obediently. “I’m in soccer camp.” His eyes glazed over with tears.
“What about swimming?” I demanded, snapping my head to my ex, knowing I was practically accusing rather than asking.
“We talked about it and decided to try soccer this summer instead, right bud?”
“Yeah,” Jake mumbled, but his eyes remained downcast.
It took everything I had to hold back my small cry. Jake loved swim camp. It was all he talked about all winter and the only thing he cared about during the summer.
And Stan hated it because swimming wasn’t… manly enough or something… for him. “You think I want my son growing up and doing a sport that’s going to put him in a fucking speedo? Do you want him to be a loser? Picked on? You want people to think he’s gay? I shuddered. I’d love and support my son no matter who or how he loved, but Stan didn’t feel the same.
Stan had this image. This complex. And either we fit into it… or he made us fit into it.
“Why don’t you show me what you learned, baby? I’m excited to see.” I swallowed down the bitterest disappointment I had for my son and pretended like my life depended on it. I’d already put him in this position—left him alone with his father. The last thing I wanted was to make it worse.
So, for one afternoon, I’d pretend soccer was exciting so Jake wouldn’t feel so horrible about it.
