Page 10 of Choices

I pull my black SUV into my parents' large driveway and get out before breathing a deep breath in and out. I'm going to need it.

I let myself in the front door, even though I know I'm supposed to knock and wait for Margaret to answer. Fuck that. I'd grown up inthis house. And my children were inside. I love Margaret, but fuck her permission.

"Hey!" I shout into the massive, mostly empty mansion.

I hear shouts and the pit patter of feet as my children hear me, find me, and wrap me in hugs. Yeah. Every bullshit thing I had to put up with with Alan was worth it for these three angels being in my life.

My dad and mom come around the corner of the hall from the outside and give me tight smiles.

"How was your week off?" My dad asks, giving me a limp hug and a weak kiss to the head, as if his own wife hadn't hired an au pair the moment I was born and being a mom wasn't a full time job.

"It was great, really. I got so much done." I mumble some bullshit because I want to be anywhere but here.

Fuck. What would Hannah Calahan say?

Before I can come up with an answer, my mom wraps me in her cold, hard arms, and says, "My grandbabies were all great. I posted pictures on Facebook, did you see?" Before squeezing my love handles. "I see you still haven't hired the Pilates teacher I suggested."

Fuck my dad. Fuck my mom. What doIwant to do?

"Thank you Mom, Dad, for watching my kids, but it's time for them to go home."

There...no room for argument, no invitation to tell me how I should be living my life. Still, setting a boundary with my parents for the first time in my life had my insides reeling.

Luckily, my three kids are eager to be shuttled into my SUV and back home.

I slide into the driver's seat, close the doors, and enjoy the silence.

"Did you guys have a good time at Nana and Papa's?"

Thesilence that answers me is deafening. Fuck.

"Would you have rather stayed home?"

Silence.

Fuck. me.

If I'm going to learn how to make choices that are authentic to me, I need to teach my kids how to do the same.

Chapter four

Santiago

Rico's been thinking about Hannah.

He's not talking about her, he hasn't made a move, but I can tell. We've been together almost daily for ten years.

He's staring off into space more, checking his phone more, taking extra long showers.

This is bad. Really bad.

I've never seen him caught up on anything that isn't business.

He tosses the keys at me and I pluck them out of the air with a raised brow. I didn't know we had plans to go anywhere today.

He walks right past me to the garage without comment.

Alrighty then.

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