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Dipping my eyes to scan the floor, I admitted that I did understand that. I did. Jerry was a good guy at his core, and it wasn’t his fault I was feeling like this. I just…I needed some time to piece it together.
“Talk to you soon, Jerry.”
I hung up, grinding my teeth together again, feeling the weight of the past seep into my present, unsure if I wanted to allow the two to coexist.
* * *
“So, how did you sleep?”I flipped a pancake, eyeing the tiny five-year-old and her wild curls. Bella rubbed at her eye while trying to focus on me.
“Good. I dweamed that Mommy was a pwincess.”
I flicked my gaze up to Bexley while I continued to flip pancakes. Still sipping her coffee, she studied something on her phone. Some place deep inside me was fearful that she was reading an article about me. My stomach dropped as I imagined her reaction to seeing me photographed, no doubt caught in some compromising position with someone, because I was always withsomeone. She’d just been exposed to my make-out session with Henna, something I wouldn’t want to witness myself if the tables were turned. Suddenly my life wasn’t something I wanted Bexley exposed to.
“Yeah, well your momma is a princess—did you know that?” I joked, bouncing my gaze from Bella to her mother. I saw the smallest smile stretch along Bexley’s mouth while her eyes remained trained on her phone.
“Reawy?” Bella asked.
I grinned, plating her breakfast and pouring her a glass of milk. “Yep. Once upon a time, I was a frog—until your mother kissed me and I turned into a prince.”
Bexley scoffed, quickly covering her mouth with her hand. Bella giggled, making the same movement with her hand over her mouth. The identical gestures took me somewhere I shouldn’t have gone, a place I had been diligent not to visit.
What would it be like if Bella was ours…not his, but ours?
“Mommy, show us!” Bella yelled as Cole entered the room, rubbing his left eye socket with the palm of his hand.
“Yeah Mom, show us…whatever it is Bell is talking about.”
I stared at Bexley, spatula in hand, while a stack of warm pancakes cooled in front of me. What would it be like to have Bexley’s lips on mine again? Would her body press into mine? Would she keep distance between us?
She gave her kids a tight smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes, which meant she wouldn’t even entertain the idea.
Right.
“So, what’s on the agenda today?” I changed the topic, dipping my head so I didn’t have to see the way her eyes looked in the sunlight currently streaming through the skylights.
“Well…we should probably head out soon.” Bexley’s voice teetered with uncertainty, which confused me. Up until now, she’d been so certain of her steps regarding me; even if she caved, she’d still sounded sure of herself.
“Guys, eat up. We need to go check in on Shay.” She pushed Cole’s hair away from his forehead as he dug into his pancake.
“Why do we need to check on Aunt Shay?” Cole asked, narrowing his eyes at his mother.
“We just do,” Bexley lightly quipped.
Translation: she wanted to get away from me. I didn’t care to address how that made me feel.
“Well, you guys have fun today. Bex, when do you work again? Maybe I can help with the kids.” I hated being in this position. I had no claim to them, and yet I felt like an estranged family member begging their mother for scraps of time.
“I’ll have to check my schedule…I think I work tomorrow, but I could be wrong. I know Logan gets them next week though.”
“Pfft…if he shows up,” Cole interjected with a shake of his head.
Suddenly this shitty second-fiddle feeling I was experiencing was nothing compared to what these kids must have been going through. I’d never had an absent father, never felt the sting of rejection in that way, and I’d never had to shuffle around from home to home, living out of my backpack.
“Well, we should try to do something before then. Maybe we can hike, or fish…” I started, moving around the island as an idea formed in my head. I should have swatted it away, but… “Or…we could…” I eyed the kids; they were both waiting for me to finish.
“We could what?” Cole asked.
Bexley cleared her throat; she knew I was going to overstep some boundary she had in place.
