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Chapter 25
Atlas
Atlas opened the door to the restaurant, holding it for Jasmine and Zoey. They picked a small booth by the window and slid in.
“Smells good in here,” Atlas said.
“Pirate’s Pizzeria have the best pizza. Gloria and Vincenzo immigrated from Italy,” Jasmine said, handing him a menu.
“I want extra cheese!” Zoey clapped.
“Please,” reminded Jasmine.
“Peas!” Zoey smiled, showing off all her baby teeth.
“What toppings do you like?” he asked Jasmine.
“I’m not picky. But pepperoni and mushrooms are my favorite.”
“Sounds good to me,” he agreed.
The waitress came over to their table. “What can I get you?”
“One large pepperoni and mushroom pizza, and another large cheese and anchovy for the little girl.”
“Ewww!” Zoey scrunched her face and plugged her nose.
He chuckled. “What? No anchovies?”
Zoey shook her head adamantly. “No, fank you.”
He shrugged, turning back to the waitress. “I guess just cheese on that one.”
She smiled and wrote it down. “Anything to drink?”
He turned to Jasmine, who said, “I’ll take a hot black tea and a chocolate milk for Zoey.”
“And I’ll take a beer—IPA if you have it.”
The waitress nodded and scribbled on her pad of paper. “I’ll bring the drinks right out.”
“Today was fun,” Atlas said, turning his attention to her as the waitress left.
Jasmine tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Aaron’s kids are great.”
His phone vibrated in his pocket. “Excuse me.” Atlas pulled out the phone, Oliver’s name flashing on the screen.
His stomach sunk. He wasn’t ready to face reality just yet. His brother’s call was like a storm cloud hovering over this beautiful day.
Zoey giggled. Her laughter was like the sunshine parting the clouds, warming his chest. He clicked “ignore” and put his cell away.
Jasmine and Zoey were coloring a page together. The way she focused so intently on her daughter, anyone could see that little girl was her whole world. She was so selfless and giving. But who took care of her? No one. And after what had happened that morning, this woman had an immeasurable amount of strength. It didn’t take a genius to piece together the fact that she’d been sexually assaulted. Was that why she stayed so guarded and closed off? But she let me in. Her green eyes met his, and she smiled. Something a lot like love clattered around his rib cage, forcing its way into his heart.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Just admiring the view.”
Her smile faltered. Yes, baby. I don’t know how to handle this either.
