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I feel the eyes of the other moms as I pull Jack away from the group and kneel down to talk to him in private.
“No, he’s not my boyfriend. And you can’t ask stuff like that out loud, buddy.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s embarrassing,” I reply with a quiet laugh.
“Oh, sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say with a smile, brushing his hair off his forehead and planting a kiss there. Before I stand up, he adds, “My friend London’s mom has a boyfriend, and he takes him to baseball games.”
My heart aches as I stare into his eyes. “I’ll take you to a baseball game. I don’t need a…boyfriend for that.”
“I know,” he replies softly. “But you don’t play arcade games with me.”
“Well, I will. Next time we go. I promise.”
I have to swallow down the pins and needles building in my throat. As the bus pulls up, I give Jack another kiss on the forehead and pull him against me for a hug. When he finds his seat on the bus, he looks out the window and waves to me. His expression isn’t as exuberant as it normally is.
The entire walk back to my house, I’m sulking.
Jack doesn’t need a man in his life—that’s just bullshit. He has me and Ronan and Daisy and his nanny, Madison. There is no void and no reason to believe a man could be any better a role model for him than I am.
Iam his family.
Keeping him sheltered is worth it, knowing he can’t be hurt the way his useless sperm donor of a father hurt me. I’ll keep his circle even smaller if it means keeping him safe.
And he’s sure as hell never going to see Clay again. He’ll have to get over that.
* * *
When I return to the house, I stand at the kitchen island and stare at my phone. The unanswered message from Clay shines on the screen like a beacon.
I can’t believe he reached out to me.
I can’t believe he went behind his girlfriend’s back to do it.
Jade might have been out of line last night, but she still seems like a nice person, and she doesn’t deserve this.
I shouldn’t respond.
But therein lies the problem. If I don’t respond, then I’m essentiallynottelling Clay to stay gone. So I should respond withstay gone.
And yet, the thought of responding with those two words feels like a blunt blade pressed against my chest. Idowant him to stay gone, so why can’t I type that?
Instead of responding, I walk away from my phone. Going to the shower, I do my best to quiet my mind and think about anything else, but it’s impossible. Every step of the process echoes his name and that damn text message that waits for me.
Not to mention, I’m still wearing a layer of grimy guilt from the encounter with Jade, and before this whole Clay situation, I had considered calling her to apologize.
How the fuck did I end up in the middle of their relationship without even trying?
The more I think about it, the more irritated I feel. I’m practically fuming as I blow-dry my hair, wash my face, and pull on my clothes for the day. I’m rehearsing everything I want to say to him—how this is crossing a line, how I never asked for this, how I was always doing my job, but he clearly overstepped when he made it personal.
Before I know it, I’m holding my phone in my hand, and instead of texting him back, I hit Call, and the phone starts ringing.
He picks up almost immediately.
“Eden.” He sounds alarmed and serious.
