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“Oh, fuck that. You’re not making me out to be the only bad guy.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” My lashes flutter at him as I recite his earlier phrase. “Besides, you do that all on your own.”
Every muscle in Jake’s body coils tight. That’s when his cell begins buzzing for the sixth time in as many minutes. He releases a muffled curse and stands. “That’s my cue.”
“It takes six to get you off your ass? How fitting. I’ll be sure to remember that.” Shouldn’t be hard seeing as that’s how long he’s been brewing this animosity toward me.
He tosses cash on the bar to cover his tab. “Don’t expect me to answer your call.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem, seeing as I’d never bother.”
Jake takes a final glance around Roosters. “Unbelievable.”
“You’re too kind. Better hurry to the door before I fall in love with you.”
Most would miss his reaction, but I’m not most. His eyes are always the ones to betray him. For a brief flicker, the angry clouds part to display a different blue emotion. There’s an unspoken hurt swirling within. He almost appears wounded.
While I attempt to trap a gasp, the stony indifference reclaims his handsome face. The shield is thicker than a chisel could break. Jake turns on his heel, stalks toward the exit, and storms away.
I offer him a farewell salute with his empty glass, not that he sees it. “Tootles, Jerky Jacob. Until next time.”
Istare at the colorful pile in front of me. Disbelief once again worms through logic. In one hand, I clutch four single socks. The other is used as a scoop to dig in the seemingly bottomless basket for a match. My hunt proves unsuccessful, only serving to taunt me with three more for the solo mound. There are several choice words tickling my tongue. It never ceases to amaze me how these damn things vanish.
Sydney giggles, breaking me from the pointless search. “You’re doing it again, Daddy.”
“Stumped over how the washer eats socks? Or maybe it’s the dryer. Either way, it’s a nonstop cycle. Put a matching pair in and only one comes out. It doesn’t make sense, Boop. A real mystery.”
“No!” Her squeal is ripe with amusement. “You’re grumbling to someone I can’t see. Do you have an imaginary friend?”
“That would be preferable,” I mutter.
Her freckled face screws up. “Pref-a-what?”
“It means I wish there was a person to sort this puzzler out rather than just myself.” Even if that individual is a product of my imagination.
Syd’s wide smile slips into an exaggerated pout. “Are you lonely? Is it ‘cause Mommy left?”
It takes heroic effort I don’t possess to contain a grimace. “Nah, Boop. I’m used to her being gone.”
And good fucking riddance. That woman is nothing but trouble. Chicago isn’t far enough away for my personal preference.
The relief Morgan’s absence brings vanishes when my little girl hunches her shoulders. “Me too.”
Her disappointment is a sucker punch I can’t prepare for. The secondhand sorrow is crippling, making me feel helpless even as I sit here trying my best. I silently curse her mother for putting us in this position. It would be easier for everyone if she stayed away permanently. But that tough option won’t help right now.
“Hey,” I say softly. “She’ll come to visit you soon.”
Sydney sniffs and drops her gaze. “Whatever. I don’t care.”
“C’mere, Boop.” I lift my arms, beckoning her in for a hug. Nobody would accuse me of being the warm and fuzzy type. But for this precious princess, I’ll be a gooey marshmallow.
My little girl doesn’t hesitate to launch herself at me. We’re silent for a beat as she soaks in the paternal affection I offer in abundance. It seems only fair, seeing as she taught me how to give freely. She won’t be lacking unconditional love so long as I’m near. I rest my chin against her crooked ponytail while focusing on a framed photo of us from this past Christmas. Warmth spreads through my chest, happiness only she provides.
She loops her skinny arms around me, holding on with a strength that shocks me. “Promise you won’t leave too.”
The quiet demand is a sledgehammer to my composure. Tension coils in my gut, set to strike a very specific target. I want to rage in my daughter’s defense. Bellow at the selfish choices and injustice I can’t control. Then drag Morgan’s ass back to Knox Creek so she can see the impact of her absence. Our child is suffering, and she couldn’t care less.
My blood could boil in seconds just considering the long-term repercussions of Morgan’s careless habits. It’s one thing to chase dreams. To abandon who should be her main priority is another entirely. I couldn’t make sense of it when she moved three summers ago. Understanding has yet to dawn on me.
