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I hated that Stan planted the seed that I was coming back there, either knowing I’d have to be the one to break it to Jake that I wasn’t… or, more likely, delusionally believing that I’d actually come home to him.
“Alright, I have a game we can play,” Zeke suggested, moving between Jake and me. “It’s called keep away.”
“Oh! I know how to play that one,” Jake exclaimed, looking for me. “Mom, we have to keep the ball away from Zeke, okay?”
“Got it,” I said with a smile, feeling my lips tug a little wider as the game began.
Maybe a dress wasn’t the best choice for an afternoon of playing soccer in the park, but I would’ve worn a potato sack if it meant spending the time with my smiling son.
I’d been so afraid—so worried about the light that Stan painted me in while I was gone. Afraid he would’ve told Jake I didn’t love him or didn’t care about him. But of course, I was wrong. After eight years under his thumb, I should’ve known that the only image Stan wanted to paint of me was a weak one. Sick. Needy. Vulnerable.
Maybe it was better than the alternative, but it still made my stomach turn.
One day, my son would know I wasn’t weak for leaving him.One day.
I didn’t know how much time had passed, how long we’d been playing, or how many times Jake and I were brought to tears laughing because Zeke kept tripping over the ball, but it certainly wasn’t enough time together when I heard Stan’s voice interrupt us.
“Time to get going, bud.”
Jake spun, the soccer ball falling from his hold. Zeke immediately picked it up, palming it with a single hand. Gripping it easily, he turned his wrist and checked his watch.
“We still have another forty-five minutes,” Zeke said much more calmly than I would’ve.
“Yeah, I know but unfortunately, I just got called in.” Stan shrugged, his sympathetic expression nothing more than a veneer. But it was a good veneer on the handsome face of a man in uniform, and I knew all too well how easy it was for those things to fool people.
“They don’t have anyone else?” Zeke asked.
Maybe I wasn’t the only person not fooled by Stan’s persona.
“Trust me, Zeke,” Stan said, reaching out and taking the soccer ball from his hand with a tipped smile. “I wish my job could include billable hours to hang at a park on a Sunday, but duty calls. Isn’t that right, bud?” He wrapped an arm around Jake’s shoulders.
I felt the ripple from Zeke going tense, and I wanted to vomit.
Jake looked at his dad and then back to me. “Are you coming with us, Mom?”
I didn’t know how I managed to speak over the lump in my throat, but I heard myself say, “No, baby. I can’t come with you. I have to go back to my new house, but I’ll see you again soon, okay?”Stronger.
“Maybe we can add this time to a meeting next weekend to make up for the lost time. The arrangement agreed on was for a full four hours,” Zeke said firmly.
Stan smiled and nodded. “For sure. If I’m not working next weekend, I’ll definitely consider it.”
My stomach dropped like a stone.Bastard.This was what he wanted. To let me see Jake—to give me a taste of everything I’d lost when I’d left them—and then take it away. He’d use Jake like our son was nothing more than a yo-yo, letting him loose and then reeling him back in, all to string me along until I did whatever it was he wanted.
“Can Mom and Zeke come to my game next weekend?” Jake turned to his dad and asked.
He might be able to hide it from everyone else, but I could see the way Stan tensed slightly; he hadn’t expected Jake to chime in.Or to want Zeke there.
“Sounds like you won’t be working for that,” Zeke drawled tightly, daring Stan to disagree with him.
“I’ll have Bobby be in touch,” Stan brushed him off and focused on Jake. “Go give Mom a hug.”
My arms opened instantly, pulling my boy’s sullen frame close. “Don’t be sad, baby. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Promise?” he murmured, the single word feeling like a knife through my heart.
“I promise.” I promise I’ll get you, baby. I promise you’ll be with me soon. That you won’t have to worry about soccer and being perfect. That we’ll spend weeks doing nothing but laughing and swimming and being silly.
I promise.
