Page 27 of Faking It With the Single Dad

Ryan lets out a low chuckle and shoves his hands into his pockets. “You’d be surprised. I come here when I need to think. It’s quiet, away from everything. Plus, Alice loves it. She’s been bugging me for another visit since the last time we came here.”

I nod, though his answer surprises me. I hadn’t pegged him as the kind of man who needs a quiet escape. “It’s nice,” I admit. “I can see why you like it.”

We walk a little farther before he stops near a bench by a small pond. He gestures for me to sit, and though I hesitate for a moment, I join him.

“Look, Bella,” he starts, his voice lower than usual, “there’s something I need to say.”

I turn to face him, immediately on edge. “This sounds serious,” I mutter.

“It is,” he says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “I know you blamed me for a lot of what happened with Caleb. And I don’t fault you for that. But I need you to know—I didn’t have anything to do with him leaving.”

I stare at him, the words not quite sinking in. “You didn’t?”

He shakes his head, his jaw tightening. “The opposite, actually. I tried to track him down after he left. For Alice’s sake, yes, but also for Luke. I thought…I thought if I could find him, maybe he’d step up and take responsibility. But Caleb didn’t want to be found.”

The air feels heavier suddenly, like all the oxygen’s been sucked out of it. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, my voice barely audible.

“I tried to,” he says, his tone soft. “But every time I got close, you pushed me away. And I understand why. You were hurt, and I was the easiest target for your anger.”

I look away, my hands twisting in my lap. “I didn’t know.”

“I know,” he says. “That’s why I wanted to bring you here. I wanted you to see the kind of father I’m trying to be. To show you that I’m not Caleb.”

The vulnerability in his voice catches me off guard. I’ve always thought of Ryan as cold, calculated, and even a little arrogant. But this man sitting next to me…he’s something else entirely.

“I’ve spent so long being angry,” I admit, my voice shaking. “At Caleb, at you, at myself. I don’t know how to stop.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” he says, his voice steady. “I’m here, Bella. For Luke, for you. If you’ll let me be.”

I turn to face him, my throat tight with emotion. His eyes meet mine, and for the first time, I see something in them that I can’t ignore: honesty, sincerity, and something else—something that makes my heart beat faster.

Before I can respond, the sound of laughter breaks the moment. Luke and Alice come running toward us, their faces lit up with excitement.

“Mom! Dad!” Alice calls out, waving a piece of paper in the air. “They have a treasure hunt for kids! Can we do it?”

I freeze at the words, the casual way Alice says “Mom” and “Dad” catching me off guard. Ryan doesn’t seem to notice, though. He stands up, smiling at the kids. “Of course. Let’s go.”

The treasure hunt is super chaotic, but fun. Watching Luke and Alice work together to solve the clues makes me smile in a way I haven’t in a long time. Ryan stays close, his presence steady and reassuring, even as the kids drag us from one clue to the next.

“You think they’re going to figure it out?” Ryan’s voice comes from behind me, low and amused.

I glance over my shoulder at him, taking in the way he leans casually against a wooden pole. “Oh, they’ll figure it out. Luke is stubborn, and Alice is sharp. There’s no stopping them when they put their heads together.”

“Stubbornness must run in the family,” he continues with a smirk, giving me a pointed look.

I roll my eyes. “Oh, please.”

Luke suddenly straightens, his voice full of excitement. “I’ve got it! It says we have to go to the old oak tree by the pond!”

“No way,” Alice protests, snatching the paper from him. “It says ‘where water meets the wood.’ That could mean the boathouse!”

Ryan and I follow at a more leisurely pace, our steps falling into sync as we walk behind them.

As we walk toward the picnic area, the kids dart ahead, their argument continuing in hushed but animated tones.

Ryan falls into step beside me, his voice low. “They’re good kids.”

“They are,” I agree, watching them fondly. “They drive me crazy sometimes, but I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

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