Page 58 of The Chance

“Don’t you love my Unckie?”

That familiar stabbing in the center of my chest kicks in.

“Of course I do,” I answer, and my breath catches at the way it spills from my mouth so easily.

Do I?

Of … course I do. Care about him. Adore him. Admire him. Miss him.

He’s the closest person to me since I was younger. My best friend. The only person I’ve let in since my parents—

I clear my throat.

How do I explain that to a kid?

That feelings are complicated, and the admission is even more so.

That I do have love for Mac?

But can I beinlove with him?

Is there even a difference when it comes to him?

Would he fucking believe me if I did?

Makkin makes a grunting noise, then stretches up to flatten his little palms against my cheeks, squishing my face so that all I see is him.

Just like his mother does to them.

Then, in the most serious tone I’ve ever heard from a kid, he asks “Why I never see you kiss him?”

My stomach drops.

“Mommy says a-dults who love each other kiss. How else will Unckie know you love him if you don’t?”

I blink, my throat too tight to answer.

Because it doesn’t matter to Makkin that his uncle and I are the same gender. Or that I’ve been stuck in some endless questioning loop of somehownot straightwith no answer to what that actually means. That I’ve spent my whole life assuming I’d never—

But then there was Mac.

Blowing out a breath I nod and force a small placating smile for the kid. “That’s all I gotta do?”

“Uh-huh! Easy.”

I wish.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Mac

Three days.

My stomach lurches along with the plane as the wheels make contact with the tarmac.

I can fake it for three days, right?

Protect myself and my dignity?

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