Page 68 of A Temporary Forever

He lowers his head, playing with the spoon in his coffee. “I keep fucking this up.”

Another rare moment of honest fragility from this man. And I don’t know how to take it. Because on the one hand, he’s confiding in me, thanking me for being a buffer between him and his child.

On the other hand, it’s quite clear he’d rather be anywhere but near me. I’m sure if it wasn’t for his hopelessness around Mia, we wouldn’t be sitting here. It stings, but again, I’m a big girl.

“You’re not fucking anything up. It’s new for both of you. You’ll figure it out.” I fold my arms across my chest andlook outside.

This feels more like a forced meeting between two divorced parents. Bound by the need to discuss their offspring, but utterly uncomfortable spending time together.

I’ve only just met Mia, but shit, she deserves better.

“You seem to know what you’re doing.” His words ring like an accusation. Fuck him.

“She seems to like her makeup.” I address my words to the window, just like him.

I suggested a natural look for her, and to my surprise, she accepted. I had a feeling the goth style wasn’t a phase, but more a mask or a cry for attention.

“That’s definitely an improvement. You changed her from a ghost to a girl.” He taps his fingers on the table.

Where the hell is Mia? Without her around, the awkwardness between us grows.

“She asked why I’m staying in the guest bedroom?” I don’t even know why I’m sharing that with him. I guess anything to prevent the heavy silence from stretching.

“Shit. What did you tell her?”

“I told her we’re remodeling the master closet and bathroom, so I have my things in the guest room, and that I use it because you snore.”

“I don’t snore,” hescoffs.

Is he for real? That’s the fight he wants to pick. I abandon my resolution not to poke into things.

“I wouldn’t know, would I?” I quip, and he fixes his eyes on me.

We glare at each other, the air between us filled with the remnants of last night. What are we doing?

I sigh. “We should talk about last night.”

“I’m sorry I got carried away.” He looks away again, and I’m not sure if he’s talking about this conversation or last night. “You were right, sleeping together isn’t wise, given the terms of our arrangement. It won’t happen again.”

“Fine by me.” I spit the words, practically defying their meaning, but I can’t help it.

He looks at me, unimpressed, but before we can say—and regret—anything else, Mia returns.

She plops into her seat, her eyes darting between the two of us.

“Shall we order anything else?” Caleb asks, and she shrugs. He sighs and turns to me. “Do you have a rehearsal today?”

So, now we pretend to get along. It’s none of his business, but I remain civil. “No, I have the day off.”

And why does he care? I guess just making sure I won’t be around all day.

“Rehearsal?” Mia looks up, her eyes void of indifference forthe first time.

“Celeste is a dancer,” Caleb says, and if I wasn’t annoyed by his behavior, I’d think there was a tinge of pride in his voice.

I whip my head to him. “Have you ever seen me dance?”

With his napkin, he wipes the corners of his mouth, then drops the linen on the table. “Yes, I have.” He rolls his eyes.

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