Page 53 of Just a Plot Twist
Besides, he’s a single dad. That opens up a whole world of new things I never considered before.
Still, I like being around him. And I sort of…don’t want to stop.
His expression changes to a big smile. “I never showed you the photos of Cinnamon that my kids sent.” He rotates his phone, and I swipe through. Some are selfies that show the kids’ faces.
“Your children are adorable, Benson.”
His grin is goofy as he stares at the last photo. It’s a selfie with Dax sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth. Indie’s face is smashed next to his, her chin tucked down, so she can give Cinnamon, who is filling the bottom of the frame, a kiss on the top of her head.
“They really do love that dog.”
His sigh turns into a soft growl. “Yeah, they do. Which is going to be a problem when Cinnamon gets returned to Mrs. Lambert.” He takesthe phone back and grins at the photo. “I kinda like that they’ll still press their faces together for a picture. It’s a ticking time bomb, though. Dax is thirteen. He’s not going to tolerate that from his sister too much longer.” His Adam’s apple bobs up and down once as he swallows.
“Eh, you never know. Sophie and I still act like idiots in front of the camera. It might not go away.”
“I hope you’re right. I’m missing stuff in their lives because of the split custody. Someday, it’s going to be gone without me even realizing it.”
“You’ll always be their dad.”
He nods. “Ever since the divorce, there’s this sense of dread, like when’s the next shoe gonna drop?”
“It makes sense that your brain is bracing itself for the next possible hit.” I swallow hard. I’ve been curious about his divorce, but it wasn’t ever the right time or place to bring it up. This is the second time he’s mentioned his ex, and his expression is so open now that I venture ahead.
“Was the divorce a surprise?”
At the click of his tongue, I backpedal. “I mean, was it sudden or did it come about slowly over time?” I massage my forehead. “That’s probably too personal. Sorry.”
The look in his eyes guts me.
Chapter 18
Claire
“No, it’s okay. You’re welcome to ask me questions.” He hesitates. “The divorce happened quickly. I thought things between us were okay. Not great, but okay. Stable.”
He chews on his bottom lip, his expression hardening. “Then, one day she comes to me in tears and says she needs some time to think and that she’s going to Sacramento to her parents’ place for the weekend. She needed space. It was hard knowing something was incredibly wrong but not be able to help.”
I nod and then watch as he gets on his knees and starts piling up the sand near my feet. There’s a lot I want to ask, like,why are you digging in the sand right now?And,what happened after that?But I wait.
Finally, he rewards me with the slightest of smiles, his hands forming a smooth hill. “There, let’s get your foot propped up.” He removes the ice pack from my ankle and gingerly lifts my leg. His grasp is strong, his skinwarm, as he sets it down on the cool and soft, but sturdy hill. He replaces the ice pack, which is still cold. “There. It’s elevated now.”
“Thank you.”
He nods and then sits back down across from me, leaning back on his elbows, his legs crossed at the ankles. “Danica and I married young. We had it good for a while, but she was restless. Just a couple of years in, she started saying she regretted getting married so young.” He clears his throat, lost in thought.
“She’s a good mom, and she loves the kids,” he says. “But she regretted not getting to do the things she wanted to do before she settled down. She was pulling away, looking ahead, wanting more. So much more than I could give her. It was maddening that I couldn’t figure out what I needed to do to help her feel good about us. And I don’t think I handled it well. I withdrew from her, as well. I asked her to go to couples therapy with me, to do a marriage retreat. But she wasn’t interested.” The muscles in his jaw jump and clench. “I went to therapy. She went to therapy. But she didn’t have a desire to come together and try.”
I wait as his words settle. “Sounds rough. I’m sorry. And I’m wholly inadequate right now to be talking about this.” I swallow hard. It’s true confession time, but thinking this all out in my head makes me feel immature. “Because, Benson, I’ve never had a serious relationship, so this is above my pay grade right now. That doesn’t mean I don’t have empathy for what you went through.”
He peers at me. “You haven’t dated much?”
I click my tongue. “Yeah, no.”
“That surprises me.”
“I told you I work too much to have a social life.” I shrug. “That’s just how it has to be.”
“Well, you’re obviously attractive,” he starts off, looking uncomfortable as he squirms.
