Page 76 of The Match

Jake

I woke up to a text from Evie that said, In case it isn’t obvious, we’re done. Lose my number. It was so startling and unlike her that I tried to call. She sent it right to voicemail. And normally I’m not the kind of guy to keep trying to get ahold of a woman when she isn’t interested, but something about her response was so odd. Concerning.

I went by Evie’s apartment, but either she wasn’t home or she just didn’t want to talk to me, because my knock went unanswered. I sent her one final text, saying, I know I messed up big-time, but I’d love the chance to apologize if you’ll let me. Please, Evie.

It all went unanswered.

I’m not quite ready to give up yet, though. Tonight is the benefit, and since I know she’ll be there, I intend on going and groveling at her feet. Respectfully, of course. And hopefully without making a scene that will embarrass her. But now I’m convinced there’s something else going on here that I’m not realizing yet. I can feel it in my gut, and I need to see Evie’s face to make sure everything is okay. I will fix this.

After driving by my place and making sure Natalie is gone, I pick up Sam from June’s house. When we walk through the door together, the smell of Natalie’s perfume knocks into us both. I’m thankful I told Sam that Natalie is back in town and didn’t try to hide it. On the way here, I gave her a very delicate and stripped-down version of what happened last night. Your mom came in for a visit last night and I told her it wasn’t a good time because you were with Aunt June.

Sam silently processed this information the whole drive home, and I didn’t press her on it. But now, as she walks through the door and smells her mom’s scent, her eyes well up with unshed tears.

“I don’t want to see her,” Sam blurts from her spot, rooted at the front door. Her nostrils flare. “And it smells like she dumped her perfume all over the place in here.”

I grit my teeth because I thought the same thing. I have no doubt Natalie doused our furniture with the stuff—probably trying to get back at me for not staying with her last night. A selfish move, like always.

“Do you want to go outside and sit on the porch?” I take Sam’s overnight bag off her shoulder and set it by the door. She doesn’t hesitate a second before turning on her heel and barreling out the front door. She sits down on the front steps instead of the swing.

I take a second to think through what my next move should be. What do I say to Sam about all this? She’s still so young, but she’s not naïve. How much do I protect her from the truth while also giving it to her in the amounts she needs?

Evie’s words from the night we picked Sam up from the slumber party echo loudly in my mind: Your house is a safe place, and you love being there, and that’s something to be proud of.

I have done my best to make sure our house feels safe physically and emotionally for Sam, and last night Natalie violated that. My daughter doesn’t want to set foot in her own home because the mom who should have always made her feel loved and cared for, but instead abandoned and hurt her, filled her safe haven with her damn scent. So, even though I’m not sure what to say, I know what I won’t be saying. I will never force my daughter to see her mom—or anyone—who hurts her.

I sit down gently beside Sam on the porch and wait for her to talk when she’s ready.

She hugs her knees to her chest. “I don’t want to see Mom.”

“And I won’t make you.”

She cuts her eyes to me, a tear streaking down her face. “You won’t?”

“No. It’s your choice if you want to let her back into your life or not. I told your mom that before I would even consider letting her see you again, she had to call and talk to you on the phone for a week. But only if you wanted to.”

Sam’s gaze drops to her little pink Converse shoes, and I note that she has Natalie’s long lashes. “I don’t know if I want to or not. I just got used to her not being here. And . . . I don’t want to talk to her again and get used to her if she’s going to leave.”

My chest squeezes. “That’s understandable. I would feel the same way. And it’s okay if you need more time before talking to her again. It’s okay to make her wait until you’re ready.”

“But . . . what if while I make her wait . . . she gets tired of it and leaves?”

Tears press against the back of my eyes. I hate that she has thoughts like this and that it’s a valid concern.

I put my arm around Sam’s shoulder and tuck her into my side. “If she leaves again, she’s missing out on an opportunity to have a relationship with the best person in this entire world.” Sam snorts a little laugh. “I’m serious, Sam. I’m so honored to be your dad. You are funny, and kind, and brave, and strong. I love you and you can trust that I will always fight for you to have the incredible life you deserve. It’s you and me against the world.”

“Promise?”

I give her my pinky and she loops hers around it. “Promise.”

Sam and I spend the rest of the afternoon together playing in the pool while I let the house air out from Natalie’s perfume bomb, and then we watch a movie and eat Sam’s favorite junk foods. I don’t hear a peep from Natalie all day, and the closer I get to the fundraiser gala the more hesitant I feel to leave Sam. At least I can take comfort that my mom is staying here with Sam tonight, and there’s no way she’ll let Natalie through the door if she shows up unannounced again.

“Don’t you need to go get ready?” Sam asks from beside me on the couch.

I frown at the time on my phone. “Uh—I’m not sure I feel like going. I’m having so much fun with you I might just stay home.”

Yes—I need to go see Evie, but Sam comes first in my life. And if she wants me to stay home with her, I will.

But Sam laughs at me. “Dad, we spent all day together. I think we’ve had plenty of hang-out time.” Oh great. My kid is already over me. “Besides, Grandma said that after you leave she and I are going to do some online shopping for new school clothes.”

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