Page 190 of Mr. Infuriating

He then grabbed Jake’s sides and tickled him, causing my son to shriek in delight.

I both loved and hated watching the three of them interact. Their rapport was bittersweet.

It hurt knowing after this week, this was all going to end.

Damn, I wished things could have turned out differently between Gabe and me.

Maybe in another life.

Even though the timer on my watch hadn’t gone off yet, I looked at it and murmured, “I better get back to Brayden.”

He nodded his head with a sad smile, but otherwise, didn’t say a word as I made a hasty retreat back to the dining room.

I hated how things were now between us, but sadly, I knew that was going to be our new normal.

Chapter Eighty

Gretchen

On Thursday, Jake must have had a rough day at daycare, because he fell asleep on the couch right after dinner. So, a little before six, the time we’d scheduled for Brayden’s tutoring session, I kept an eye out for Gabe’s truck in order to open the door to keep them from ringing the doorbell. I was surprised to find Britt and Brayden walking up the drive while Gabe waved at me from the cab of his truck, then pulled out of my driveway.

“Your dad’s not staying?”

Britt remarked, “He said he’d be back in an hour,” as she walked through the door.

“Oh.”

Apparently, our days of spending any time together were over.

It was probably just as well.

But it didn’t mean it still didn’t sting.

I thought we’d agreed we’d at least be friendly?

I tried to school my expression when Brayden followed, but I don’t think I hid my hurt feelings fast enough, because he offered, “He had some errands to run that couldn’t wait,” with a sheepish expression.

I knew he was lying but wanted to hug him for trying to spare my feelings.

“My cabinets took up a lot of his free time lately, I’m sure he’s behind on a lot of things.”

“Bit-nee! Bwaydon!”

Jake slid off the couch still bleary-eyed and ran toward our visitors, then stopped short, looked around, and held his hands out in a questioning manner.

“Where Bandit?”

“Gabe has to work, baby.”

Fortunately, Gabe’s kids were an acceptable substitute because he didn’t question it further.

Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang, and Jake’s eyes lit up as he squealed, “Bandit!” and raced toward the door.

I know the feeling, baby.

“Stop!” I commanded from my spot next to Brayden at the dining room table. “Do little kids answer the door?”

He danced in place, antsy to see Gabe, but dutifully replied, “No.”

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