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He nodded. “I think everyone does.”
Her stomach flipped. Was he really this understanding? Did he sleep around as much as she had? Did he have other kids out there somewhere? A piece of her wall crumbled. She was beginning to trust him. Every time she expected him to run, he surprised her with patience and compassion. A man like Atlas cared about her despite her flaws, against all better judgement. But could he forgive her for the worst parts, the ones even she couldn’t stomach to remember?
No one can.
“Ice cream cone for you.” Brynn interrupted their moment, handing Zoey her dessert.
“Fank you.”
“And two shakes,” Brynn said.
“Thank you,” Jasmine and Atlas said in unison.
“Let’s walk to the park.” Atlas stood.
“Yay! Can I swing, Mommy?”
“I guess so. Let me pay the bill first.” She grabbed her purse.
“Already took care of it,” Atlas said, taking Zoey’s hand so she could jump from the booth to the floor.
“I was going to pay. It’s the least I can do. You helped me today and—”
“Because I volunteered. Listen, I was raised to never let the lady pay. Mothers have this sixth sense. She’d know if I let you get the check and then appear here to ream me out. And we both don’t want that, trust me.” Atlas chuckled, leading Zoey outside.
This man.How was he so kind and good? Jasmine picked up a few extra napkins and slid them into her purse before jogging to catch up with them.
* * *
Zoey laughed as Jasmine pushed her on the swings. “Higher, Mommy! Higher.”
“Any higher and you’ll touch the clouds.” Jasmine laughed.
“Yay! Oh—get me down. I want to play with trucks.” Zoey pointed towards the sandpit where a few other kids were playing.
She slowed the swing and picked her out. Zoey ran off to the sandpit. Jasmine joined Atlas on the bench, keeping an eye on her daughter.
“We can go whenever you want to,” she reminded him.
“She’s having fun, and it’s a nice day to be outside. I’m in no rush to get back,” he assured her.
After a moment of silence, she asked, “If you had no limitations or expectations placed on you, you’d be a chef. But what else would you want in your life?”
He took a deep breath, turning to face her. “I’ve never thought about it. I’ve been raised for my place in the family business. There’s actually a bit of a competition right now between my brother and me to become CEO of the company.”
“That’s what you want? Rather than being a chef?”
He shook his head. “A chef is a pipe dream for someone like me. It’s not an acceptable job for a Remington.”
“You mean it’s beneath you.” She crossed her arms.
He sighed. “My family thinks so.”
“Do they control everything in your life? Who you date? Who you marry?”
He leaned forward, staring at his hands.
Had she struck a chord?
