Page 13 of Taking The Shot

“I’m confused,” she admitted, looking at him again as he took a bite of an eggroll, chewing thoughtfully and avoiding her eyes.

“Don’t be,” he said simply, taking another bite. “If you could have anything in the world for your kids, what would you do? What would you ask for?”

“Anything?” she hesitated, growing even more confused. “I’d want them to be happy, to feel confident in who they are, and to know that they are loved.”

“No, I meant monetarily.”

“Oh… oh,” she whispered, shame flooding her face. “Is it because of my place? Because I don’t live somewhere nice or fancy like you must, because there is more to life than money and…”

“Hang on,” he interrupted, smiling and held up his hands in surrender. “Hold back the attack for a moment, Mama Bear. I was asking about college funds, traveling the world, making memories with the kids, and freedom to do whatever with them.I was not attacking your home, how you’ve raised them, or trying to make you feel bad about yourself. I think you’ve done an incredible job with them already, and it’s just two people having a conversation.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize for protecting your children,” he said openly in a firm voice that caused her to meet his eyes in surprise. “Never apologize to anyone about that… and youneverhave to apologize to me.”

They both sat in heavy silence, the air thick with unsaid words. The muffled sound of children’s laughter drifted in from the next room—pure, untainted joy. Paige and Kayla were playing, their excited voices rising and falling, oblivious to the weight pressing down on their mother’s chest.

Constance swallowed hard, staring at the table, the chipped edge catching her eye as her fingers idly traced it. She wished she could freeze this moment, bottle up their happiness, and keep it safe, untouched by the harsh realities of the world she couldn’t seem to shield them from.

Keith was watching her, patient, waiting. His voice, gentle but insistent, cut through the quiet.

“Tell me,” he said softly. “And it’s just a question, Mama Bear. What do you want for them? What do you want for yourself?”

Constance inhaled sharply, her breath catching as she fought against the knot tightening in her throat. She had spent so long pushing those thoughts away, locking them behind doors she never dared to open. But here he was, asking—really asking—something no one had ever cared to.

“I want…” she started, then hesitated, biting her lip so hard she tasted copper.

Keith didn’t look away. He didn’t rush her or fill the space with meaningless words. He simply waited, his quiet presence making it impossible to hide.

The pressure built inside her chest, swelling until it became unbearable. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to speak before she lost the courage.

“I want Paige to have new clothes for the first day of school,” she whispered, the words tasting like shame. “Not secondhand outfits from Goodwill or garage sales—something new, something she chose for herself that makes her feel proud instead of…less.” She shook her head, blinking back tears. “I would put Kayla in a better daycare, in a better neighborhood, somewhere she could play outside without me worrying about stray dogs or broken playground equipment…”

Her voice broke, and she sucked in a shaky breath.

“Think bigger,” Keith urged hoarsely, leaning in as if he could somehow draw the truth out of her.

Constance let out a bitter laugh, the sound wet with unshed tears. “Bigger?” She wiped her face with trembling fingers. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

But she did know. Because the moment she started, it was like a dam breaking, years of frustration, grief, and longing pouring out faster than she could stop it.

“If I were dreaming bigger, Keith,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, “I wouldn’t have to put them in daycare at all. I’d be home with them. I’d see every milestone, every scraped knee, every proud moment instead of hearing about it secondhand from a stranger who doesn’t love them the way I do.” She sucked in a ragged breath. “I’d send them to the best private schools money could buy. They’d never have to know what it’s like to eat Hamburger Helper five nights in a row because it’s all that fits the budget.”

Her fingers curled into fists on the table. “I wouldn’t have to juggle everything alone. I wouldn’t have to miss school plays or ‘Muffins for Mom’ because I couldn’t get a substitute for my classroom. I wouldn’t have to constantly apologize—to them, to my job, to myself—for not being enough.”

She let out a shaky exhale, dropping her head into her hands. “If I could have anything, I’d teach them at home. I’d give them every opportunity, every advantage that was stolen from them the day my husband died. I would give them the life they deserve, the home they should have had. But I can’t.” Her voice broke, thick with anguish. “Because life sucks, Keith. It just… it sucks.”

The silence that followed felt deafening. She had never spoken those words aloud before, had never let anyone see the depth of her pain, her fear, her failure.

And then, just as she braced herself for the weight of her own hopelessness to crush her, Keith spoke.

“What if I said I could give you all of that?”

Her breath hitched, her tear-filled eyes snapping up to meet his.

His eyes held fear, wariness, and… hope. There were secrets hidden in his face, almost like he was bracing himself to say what was on his mind and didn’t know where to begin. If this had been a test, she had obviously passed it because he was offering to grant her a wish, like a genie with a lamp, but there had to be a condition.

“What’s the catch?” she asked cooly, looking at him with a careful expression because right now she felt emotionally raw, ravaged from sharing her deepest secrets with him only to have him lob it right back into her court once more. “I have to sleep with you or something?”

---