Page 40 of Wicked Games We Play
“How was everything?” I asked Ryder, who was leaning against his truck, watching us with a lazy smile on his face. He looked good. Happy. I was happy for him.
“Aside from Elle needing to grocery shop twice in the last three days because this kid wouldn’t stop eating everything in the house, it was perfect, as usual.” He laughed when Jordan stuck his tongue out at him.
“What? I can’t help that I’m hungry. I’m growing, right Mom?”
“Exactly,” I confirmed. “You need extra fuel for that growth spurt you’re about to have.”
“Let me know if you need any extra cash formoreshoes,” Ryder said, adding the extra sarcasm when he said more. Jordan had flown through two different sizes of shoes in the last few months. The kid was growing like an absolute weed.
“Will do,” I laughed. “Why don’t you bring your bag upstairs, kiddo? Go get settled and I’ll start dinner in a few minutes.”
Jordan nodded his head and scooped the bag from his dad’s outstretched hand. “Bye, Dad!” he said as he barreled up the stairs and through the front door.
“Do you want to come in?” I asked, turning my attention to Ryder.
“No, thanks though. Elle’s at the store grabbing stuff for burgers for me to barbecue later. You guys are welcome, if you don’t feel like cooking.”
“I appreciate that,” I told him. “I’m feeling really lazy though. We’ll just stay home tonight.”
“You know where to find us if you change your mind,” he told me, looking at me with an inquisitive look on his face. “You good, Lily?
“Yep.”
He continued to stare at me, seeing right through my lie. “You know, no one knows him better than Elle. Maybe she’d be a good person to talk to?”
An abrupt laugh erupted from my chest. “Because that wouldn’t be awkward as hell.” It came out harsher than I meant it. I knew what he was suggesting was from a good place, but still, I had zero interest in speaking to my ex-husbands fiancée about what made her ex-boyfriend tick. “Sorry, that was rude. I appreciate the thought, but no thank you. All is good, Ryder, truly.”
The look on his face told me that my reaction annoyed him, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he nodded once and turned to get into his truck. Before he slid into the driver’s seat, he said, “See you guys on Wednesday.”
I offered a tight smile as I watched him back out onto the road and leave, the guilt settling while I watched him drive away.
Not wanting to dwell, I shook it off and went inside to start dinner for Jordan and me. I didn’t know what I was going to make with the chicken I had defrosted earlier, and the thought of cooking, for whatever reason, made my stomach twist into knots. Maybe it would be a good night to go out after all.
“Hey, kiddo?” I called from the bottom of the stairs. His bedroom door was open, but silent, a telltale sign he was playing video games and had his headphones on. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear me, I trudged up the stairs. When I reached his bedroom, I stood in the doorway, taking in my son, relaxed in his beanbag chair. I was right. Headphones were on; video game was in hand. His eyes met mine when he realized I was in his room and he pulled the headphones off his head.
“In the mood for pizza for dinner?”
“Heck ya!” he told me, and his stomach rumbled in agreement. “Can we go now?”
I peeked over at the alarm clock by his bed to see if it was late enough for dinner. “We’ll leave in about thirty minutes, ok?”
He gave me a thumbs up in response and pulled the headphones back over his head before turning his attention back to his game. Not wanting to leave just yet, I continued standing in his doorway, watching him as he played. I may not know what my career path looks like, and my love life may be in shambles, but the one thing I knew without a doubt was that my purpose in life was to be his mom, and I was so grateful for every moment that led up to having him and for every moment since.
Just as I was turning to leave his room, the sound of his voice stopped me. “Mom, are you ok?”
My body stiffened at his question. “Of course, buddy. Why would you ask that?”
“You’re not smiling as much as you usually are,” he said with a shrug. My stomach sank at his admission. He’d noticed that I was sad, despite me trying to hide it. Despite me trying to deny it.
“I’m fine, my love,” I lied. It hurt to lie so easily to my son, but he was only eleven. He didn’t need to know that right now his mother’s heart was shattered into a million pieces and it was her own damn fault.
Because it was my fault, and I was coming to realize that and take responsibility for it. Noah said he would wait, and he changed his mind, but only because I had pushed him to that point. It all fell back on me.
Ipushed him away.
Imade him feel like he wasn’t enough.
Irefused to let him love me like he wanted to.
