Page 60 of The Forever Play

His phone number has been burning a hole in mypocket since Wednesday, but I still haven’t put it into my phone. I can’t call or text him… can I?

No! You don’t need him. He’s just…

Just what?

Zoey’s father.

The guy who broke my heart.

The one who came back for me.

Shit.Sitting up, I scrape my fingers through my hair and gaze out the window.

“He came back for me,” I whisper, struggling to believe it.

The guy I spotted tongue-deep in a three-way didn’t seem the kind who would miss me.

But the man who held my daughter on Wednesday and calmed her down? Yeah, he was the one I fell for. And maybe that’s who he is now. Maybe his first semester in college was a train wreck, and then he found his way again?

Or maybe transferring to Nolan U was a fresh start for him or something.

I don’t know.

But… can I forgive him?

Can I let him back into my life?

“He came back for me.” I flop down, my lips twitching as I stare up at the ceiling and play with the ends of my hair.

Things would have been so different if I’d known that.

I gave him no chance to redeem himself. And a part of me feels bad for that.

Which is probably why I’ve been obsessing over him. Probably why I secretly watched his away game yesterday.They lost, which put me in a foul mood—don’t ask me why.

It’s probably why I can’t fall asleep right now.

Because he’s consuming me.

Throwing back the duvet with a huff, I jump out of bed and tie my hair up in a messy knot before heading out to the kitchen.

I want to check on Zoey. Her cute little smile will distract me and make me feel better. I’m already running through the day ahead. It’s so nice out there, we’ll definitely have to get to the park. And maybe I’ll take a ball this time. She might like kicking it around. How adorable would that be?

Zipping up my hoodie, I’m about to round the corner into the kitchen when I hear Zoey’s voice and go still, leaning my head against the wall and soaking in her sweet sound with a smile.

“Chochos.”

“You want more Cheerios?” Russell asks. I love the tone he uses with her. It’s always so gentle and sweet.

“Chochos,” Zoey confirms her request.

“Can I get some manners?”

“Peeeeeese, Unca Russy.”

He laughs, and I can hear the box shaking. “You know, you can just call me Dada if it’s easier to say. I don’t mind.”

I ping away from the wall, frowning when Zoey says, “Dada.”

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