Page 100 of Offside Devil

Mira’s answer disarms Peter enough that there’s a lag. I decide to fill the silence.

“Where is Jodie this morning? She said she would be my point of contact for all things concerning Aiden.”

Morris lifts his chin and his mustache quivers. “It’s well within my purview to follow up with cases I believe need extra attention.”

“So, this is on the record?” I ask. “I’ll be able to call Jodie and have a copy of this report?”

I feel the power dynamic shift as Peter clicks his pen and slides it back into his pocket. “I don’t see why you’d need a copy of your own answers for how you plan to take care of your son.” It’s the only response I get before he stands up. “That’s all I have for now. You can expect to see me again very soon.”

I follow him towards the door and Mira is right beside me. She must be able to tell how close I am to losing my shit because she slips her hand into mine.

“I’ll call Jodie and make sure she has my schedule so you don’t show up when I’m not around,” I say through a thin smile.

“Not necessary,” he growls. “We’ll call you.”

With one last look at Aiden in the living room, Peter Morris walks out of my condo and pulls the door closed behind him.

“I think we were pretty convincing,” Mira whispers, her fingers flexing in mine. “What do you think?”

My chest tightens. Maybe too convincing.

I let go of her hand and drag mine through my damp hair. “I think Morris came here outside of normal work hours and off the books. I think he has some kind of fucked-up vendetta against me.”

“You aren’t doing anything wrong, Zane. There’s nothing he can use against you that shows you aren’t a good father.”

“Unless he sees a video of me drinking at the bar after our last game.” The entire night is hazy, but it doesn’t matter, because someone sent a video of the chugging contest to the team group chat. If Peter sees that, he’ll think I’ve relapsed. And if he thinks that…

I chance a look at Mira, expecting to see disappointment on her face. Instead, she steps closer and lays her hand on my bicep. “You had one bad night. That doesn’t make you a bad parent.”

I have the stupid thought to pull her against my chest and tuck her head under my chin and I’m damn close to pulling the trigger on it—when Aiden comes bounding out of the living room. Kid has exquisite timing, that’s for sure.

“Are you staying home again?” he asks.

I check the clock. I’m already forty-five minutes late to conditioning. And even though I know Morris is gone, I can’t quite stomach leaving Mira and Aiden alone today.

“Sure am.” I ruffle Aiden’s hair. “What are we going to do?”

The answer, it turns out, is everything.

Aiden demands we go to the park, and Mira wasn’t kidding about beating the line for the big slide. There are a million kids and parents there. It’s bizarre how easily Mira and I blend in.

When I stop to tie my shoe and lose track of Mira and Aiden, one guy sees me looking for them and points across the playground. “Your wife and son went behind the rock climbing wall.”

My wife.

My son.

Our family.

The words swirl around my head as we make lunch together and watch a movie on the balcony, the laptop balanced on Aiden’s lap between us. By the time bedtime rolls around, I don’t even make it through one book before Aiden is drooling on his pillow.

When I come out of his room, Mira is cleaning up dinner like it’s our normal routine. Like we do this every day.

Some part of me wishes we did.

“Done already?” she asks.

“He passed out three pages into The Velveteen Rabbit.”

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