Page 96 of When I Had You

“What the . . .?”

Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, I stare at my phone and the message on the screen. My chest aches where my heart used to be, but I rarely feel it anymore even with adrenaline pumping through me.

“What is it, Daddy?” Cullen whines, “This is boring.” I’ve heard that a few times over the past two weeks. It was nice to have him for an extended period, but I think he might be sick of his old man.

I shove my phone in my back pocket because I can’t reply with my mind going in a million directions and my kid tugging on my hand. I try not to be on my phone as much when I’m with my son, but I can’t stop thinking that I’m imagining the message that just popped up.

“It’s not boring. We walk to experience life instead of sitting in the back of a vehicle. Look around, Cullen. What do you see?”

While he’s busy trying to spot one of a million differences from the last time we walked this route, I can’t help but wonder why now? Why would Marina text me out of the blue?

Has the anger dulled?

Her hate for me subsided?

Change of heart?

Decided to return mine?

I want to reply so badly, but I can’t think straight.

“Are you listening?”

“I missed that, buddy. Say it again?”

He points. “Mommy.”

I look up to see Terpidy standing by a tree we always pass when walking to her place. Something’s different, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe her outfit? Not as tight? Her hair is pulled back? How does she usually wear it?

“Hi,” she says, bending down to greet Cullen. He runs excitedly into her open arms.

Keeping my pace, I need a few extra seconds to suss out the situation. She never meets us. She barely even opens the door.

With Cullen in her arms, she meets me halfway. I’ll never entirely burn this bridge because we share a son, but I’m not letting my guard down.

“Hello,” she greets me, her voice breezy as if we haven’t been to hell and back at least three times.

“Hey.” I hand her Cullen’s backpack and shove my hands in my front pockets, still unsure of her motive.

“I was hoping we could talk?” She turns, and we start walking together, but I sense I don’t have much choice. Hopefully, we can remain civil for one block.

“All right.”

“How are you doing since the accident?”

The question still elicits raw emotion. The surface has healed, but there’s nerve damage. It’s the organ underneath that was most affected, and that’s not something I’m getting into with her. “Almost healed,” I lie.

“That’s good. You’re having a great season.” She laughs, setting Cullen down and letting him walk a few feet ahead of her. “Five feet, Cullen. No more.”

“I’m almost six,” he complains. It’s not a busy street, which is why we go this route, but it’s interesting to see her parent. It’s not something I’ve witnessed much since we’ve been apart from the time he was born.

She glances at me with a knowing grin and back to him. “When you’re six, you can have six feet. Five feet until then.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“Sometimes he reminds me of you.”

I laugh, watching Cullen in the beginning stages of a meltdown. “Is that a compliment?”

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