Page 110 of The Dating Pact

I raised my brow at him. I know.

“Come on, little one. We gotta get going.” Jude took Amelia from me and motioned Sebastian over to him.

I waved to them. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye, Brooke!” Amelia shouted while Seb lifted his hand.

Jude grinned at me, the sparkle back in his eyes, and I couldn’t have been happier to see it.

It was worth the wait.

We were worth the wait.

THIRTY

JUDE

September sailed into October with cold winds, and I stared outside the window at the small whirlwind of fallen browned leaves in the grass. It was a Sunday, and while I’d let the kids run themselves ragged at the park this afternoon, they were still all hyped up. Most likely because they didn’t have school tomorrow.

It had been two weeks since I’d seen Brooke at the farmers market. Two weeks since my mother had whispered about how much she thought Brooke was great for me. Two weeks since my father had told me how proud he was of me. Two weeks since I’d witnessed Sebastian let Brooke hug him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Two weeks of Amelia asking if I thought Brooke really hung up her ugly macaroni face.

I didn’t know that kindergarteners learned fractions, but I guessed if one-half a face was made out of red macaroni and the other half yellow, I supposed a five-year-old could understand that was ½. Either way, the thing was a nightmare. But yeah, “I’m sure she hung it up.”

I knew by now my kids had sensed a shift in my demeanor since that fateful morning. I had needed to touch her, hear her laugh, see her smile in real life to reenergize myself. We had spent these weeks apart so I could focus on my kids, to make sure they were mentally and emotionally healthy, so that when I did take the next steps with Brooke, we would all be able to be happy together.

But it had been killing me. And the kids knew that. They’d been on the receiving end of my occasional outbursts and short fuse. I wasn’t like I’d hidden why we were doing this. At least, not after the farmers market.

Even Amelia asked why I hadn’t hugged Brooke goodbye.

Seb had stayed silent about his interaction with her, and I hadn’t pushed him when we’d gone for ice cream, but I made sure to bring it up in our counseling session, talking about what the future might look like for all of us. The kids drew pictures of what they wanted for themselves now and when they grew up.

Our therapist, a lovely young woman by the name of Dr. Heidi, explained to the kids that I also had certain things I wanted: a house, a family, to be married. And even though I wanted those things, it didn’t mean what they wanted would change, now or when they grew up.

It had been a big breakthrough for everyone.

So it shouldn’t have surprised me when Sebastian shuffled up next to me by the window. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah, buddy?” I glanced over my shoulder at him, stopping short at the serious expression on his face.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” I turned away from the window and directed him to sit at the kitchen table. I’d finished loading the dishwasher from our early dinner when the leaves had caught my eye. But now, I gave my son my full attention. “What’s up?”

He chewed on his lip for a few seconds, an inherited nervous tic from Mira. “Are you, like…sad? Because you haven’t seen Brooke in a while?”

The question tugged hard at my heart. I exhaled wearily, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah, I am. I was really sad before, but since we saw her the other day, I feel a little better.”

“Are you mad at me for it?”

“No, buddy, no.” I held his shoulders. “I’m not mad at you. You know how sometimes you feel like nothing’s quite going your way, and you don’t know who to be mad at? Like, you have a lot of bad luck?”

Seb nodded.

“That’s how I feel. I’ve had a lot of bad luck in my life, and sometimes it’s easy to ignore and sometimes it’s not. It hasn’t been easy lately.”

His nose twitched as he contemplated that. Always so thoughtful, my kid. “You really miss her, though?” he asked, nose twitching again, and I assumed this time it was more about emotion and less about making connections in his brain. “You miss her more than you miss Mom?”

I released my grip on him. It wasn’t a tough question to answer, but it was tough to explain. “I miss her differently than I miss Mom.”

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