Page 153 of The Single Dad

“She left right after I broke my arm,” Archie says.

“Yes, but it wasn’t related,” I tell him. “It was a coincidence. Do you know what that means?”

He shakes his head, puzzled.

“Sometimes, two things just happen at the same time, even if one didn’t cause the other. Does that make sense?”

“I guess so,” Archie says dubiously.

“You didn’t make Riley leave,” I assure him, ruffling his hair. “But I’m afraid that doesn’t mean Riley is coming back, either.”

Archie’s bemused expression slowly gives way to a frown.

“She’s not?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. Guilt tugs at me at the disappointed expression on Archie’s face. “She’s not.” I pause, and add, “And it’s not because of you. That’s just how things are.”

For the rest of the ride home, Archie is silent. When we arrive and walk back into the house, he’s more subdued, the bounce gone from his step and his eyes downcast. He plays with his toys for a while without much enthusiasm, picks at his dinner, and doesn’t argue when I tell him it’s time for bed.

Once the lights are out in Archie’s room and his eyes are closed—I’m not sure if he’s really asleep, or just pretending—I head downstairs and pour myself a drink. I haven’t had a drink all week, and after that conversation, I need it.

I need a distraction, really. But no matter what I do, my thoughts keep drifting back to the hurt look on Archie’s face, and from there, to Riley.

I try to get some work done, but every time I close my eyes, I see her distraught expression as she wordlessly left the house. I put on some music, and can’t stop hearing the sound of her laugh. It feels as though there’s a spotlight shining on the empty spot on the wall where her painting once hung.

Eventually, my efforts to busy myself are interrupted by a knock at the front door.

I frown, glancing at my watch. It’s nine in the evening, so I can’t imagine who’s showing up unannounced at this hour.

For a wild moment, I think maybe it’s Noah. Finally coming over to give me a piece of his mind, or to sock me in the jaw. Good; I’d deserve it.

But when I open the door, it’s not Noah. It’s Declan and Reed, standing shoulder to shoulder. Both of them wear serious looks on their faces, which is so unusual for Reed in particular that I’m taken aback.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” I ask. “We didn’t schedule a poker night, did we?”

“You think our friendship is confined to poker night?” Reed retorts, pushing past me into the foyer. “That stings, Cole.”

“You can’t just—”

“We need to talk,” Declan interrupts. He raises a challenging eyebrow at me. “Unless you don’t want us here.”

Reed is already hanging up his jacket in the coat closet. “You can’t kick me out,” he says loftily. “It would be inhumane.”

“It’s fine,” I say to Declan, bemused, “but I’m just… confused. Is something going on?”

“You tell us.” Now that he’s invited, Declan finally steps inside, and I close the door behind him. He turns to me, frowning. “Is something going on?”

I shake my head. “I don’t have news for you. I don’t know what you’re expecting, here.”

Reed scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“You’ve been avoiding us,” Declan accuses me, exchanging a glance with Reed. “Don’t try to deny it.”

“I haven’t been,” I say, exasperated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We haven’t seen you in more than two weeks. What else are we supposed to think?”

“I swear, I haven’t been avoiding you,” I mutter. Unfortunately, I know exactly what they’re talking about.

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