Page 71 of Bonus Daddy
So I asked Brian to take a walk with me.
We’d been invited to dinner with some of Dylan’s friends and their husbands, but I’d declined, preferring a quiet evening after the chaos of the previous day. The girls and I had spent this morning walking the Freedom Trail and the afternoon at the Museum of Science, and though my feet hurt, I needed the quiet and the fresh air to process the events of the last thirty-six hours.
The concert might have been the greatest experience of my life, aside from the days the girls were born. The pure happiness radiating from Kit and Greta had filled my heart with joy. Yes, I was still riding a high, but secretly, it had more to do with holding Brian’s hand than meeting Lake Paige. The act had been so innocent, yet it felt significant. The intensity in his eyes when he looked at me had made my heart race, and the gravity of what he’d done for me and my kids had hit me like a bus.
I was falling in love with this man.
Not the boy I’d fallen for a lifetime ago.
The man standing next to me right now.
Weeks ago, I’d made my peace with the attraction. Attraction was normal. But this urgency, this ache in my chest, was so much more than lust.
He wore jeans and a T-shirt as we traversed the city. It was a look I hadn’t seen on him in twenty years. The casual attire made him look younger, which sent my thoughts skipping back in time to the days we’d often walked these streets together. Young, carefree, and in love.
The differences were like night and day. Life now was complicated and difficult, and every day contained challenges my young mind could never have conceived of back then.
We’d had a lot of fun roaming these streets, dreaming and chatting and holding hands. But we were different peoplenow. Grown and weary and tired. That version of Jess was so far away from me, I could barely feel her, even back in Boston.
And Brian? The grown-up version of him made my knees weak.
“This is so beautiful,” I remarked as we strolled along the Rose Kennedy Greenway. “I remember when this was an ugly highway.”
His response was easy, mundane, his expression introspective.
For a long while, we were silent, but with each step, emotions bubbled up inside me. When I was bursting, unable to hold back, I stopped abruptly and wrung my hands.
He stopped too, turning back and frowning at me in concern.
“Thank you,” I blurted out. “For everything. This whole trip has been a dream come true.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, dipping his chin. “But the look on the girls’ faces last night was all the thanks I need.”
I shook my head. “Someday, I’ll find a way to repay you. But for now. Just let me say this.”
With my heart thudding heavily, I clutched his hand and forced myself to hold eye contact.
“Thank you. For your friendship and your kindness to my kids. Thank you for being someone I can depend on. It’s been a long time since I had someone in my corner, on my team. I forgot how good it feels not to have to face every battle alone.”
He sucked in a breath.
“Sorry,” I said, dropping his hands. “I wasn’t trying to make things weird.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “You didn’t. And I am on your team. As are Cal, Lo, Sully, Sloane, Tia, and the boys. Even the damn cat. Our whole dysfunctional family.”
“You have no idea how lucky you are,” I replied, tears pricking at the backs of my eyes. “The work you do is so important, and you get to do it with people you love and who love you back.”
He blew out a long breath. “I should be thanking you,” he said, his brow creased. “It wasn’t until you showed up that I realized how much I’ve been holding back. My priorities have been muddled.”
Without waiting for a response, he tugged me toward the crosswalk, where the signal had just changed.
Being here with him was surreal. The city had changed so much, but while we walked the streets together, it felt as though we’d fallen back in time. We talked endlessly, laughing and reminiscing, the present and past mingling together.
“We had fun,” he said softly as we navigated the cobblestone sidewalks of Boston’s North End, heading toward Genaro’s.
“We did.” I smiled, overcome by the ghost of a once familiar light, magical sensation that came with being young and in love and free from all the burdens of adulthood.
“I hope the pizza is still amazing after all these years.”
