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"I'm fine," I lie, hoping he'll buy it. "Anyway, I have a question for you. Do you have any job openings at the youth club? Something paid?"
There's a pause on the other line before he finally responds. "Actually, yes. We just had a position open up for a program coordinator. It's not much, but it's something."
"I'll stop in tomorrow. Can we talk more about it then?"
"Sure thing, Maya. We'd love to have you on board. You always have a way with the kids," he says before we hang up.
This could be my ticket to a brand-new start.
21
HUNTER
Iwalk into my penthouse after another long day of Maya avoiding my every move and head straight for the bar. Pouring myself a glass of Scotch, I take a sip and let the burn of the alcohol soothe the raw edges of my thoughts.
Having another child at this stage of my life?
With Maya? My daughter’s best friend...goddamn
How could I have allowed things to spiral this far out of control?
The guilt kills me, knowing that this could tear apart their friendship. The memory of my daughter’s face contorting with confusion, anger, and hurt in my office is a punch to the gut.
My actions had not only changed the course of my life but those I cared about the most.
Moving to the couch, I sink into the plush leather with a sigh, glass in hand, and flick on the flat screen before me. The screen becomes nothing more than a blur of colors and lights.
The penthouse feels empty.
I take another sip of Scotch, feeling the sharp sting of loss. For a moment, I imagine Maya walking through the front door, her smile and her eyes breathing life into the room. I shake off the thought.
She's gone, idiot.
Reality hits me.
Sinking further into the couch, I let the glass rest in my hand. Alone in my home, the weight of the world weighs on my shoulders.
Regret, guilt, and apprehension consume me. I run my fingers through my hair, pulling at the roots in frustration.
Suddenly, a memory floods into me, taking me back to life with Christy. I remember it like it was yesterday. Christy and I were in the living room of our old apartment. She was pacing up and down, her blue eyes full of anger and desperation.
"Is it too much to ask for, Hunter?" Her voice loud and shrill. "All I want is some quality time with you. Is your job more important than your own goddamn wife?"
"You know it's not like that, Christy." I was attempting to keep my own anger under control. "I work so that we can have a comfortable life. So that you can have everything you want!"
She spun around to face me, her face an open book of hurt and frustration. "Yes, a comfortable life! The kind where I barely see my husband and when I do, you're too tired to even have a real fucking conversation with me!"
The argument escalated, her demands growing more incessant. She wanted more money for her shopping sprees, her pricey spa treatments, and her girls' nights out. The more she asked, the more I felt used. Nothing was ever enough.
"At what cost, Christy? At what cost will it ever be enough for you?"
Her silence was the only response I got.
She was a mirror, reflecting my own shortcomings - my inability to connect, to really be there for her. Maybe I was the toxic one. The guilt of it all still haunts me.
I was so wrapped up in my work, in the business I was building from the ground up. I didn't make time for her or for Kaitlyn.
How the fuck would I be a better father now?
