Page 73 of Filthy Little Midlife Fling

And the man I fell for no longer wants to talk to me.

I bury my face in my hands and weep.

By the time I come up for air, six new one-star reviews greet me. My rating is down to three stars. It feels like the world is ending, but that’s not really anything new. I always fall short of perfect, no matter how hard I try. Makes me wonder why I try at all.

With thoughts of my empty house, empty bed, and empty life, I wipe my eyes, turn on the engine, and head home.

TWENTY-EIGHT

REMY

When I get behind the wheel of my truck, Danny is busy playing on his handheld video game. He doesn’t look upset that he had to wait a few minutes for me, nor does he look sad that Audrey didn’t show up.

“How do you feel about a burger and milkshake tonight?” I ask, voice full of gravel.

Danny brightens, facing me with wide eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Really.”

“Yes!” He fist-pumps the air. “Milkshakes on a school night!”

I try to chuckle, but it comes out raspy. My hands tremble as I try to turn the key in the ignition, and it takes me a few moments to realize I’m deeply, monumentally angry.

For the first time since my divorce, I trusted a woman to be there for me. I asked for a simple favor, and I was let down. How many times is this going to happen before I get the hint? How many times do I have to realize that no one will ever prioritize me—prioritize Danny—before it sinks in?

I thought I was falling in love with Audrey. What a joke. How could it be love, when she can’t be bothered to even remember her promises?

Not just any promises, either. She forgot about my kid. The one person in my life that always comes first. The one person who matters.

She could have let me down, and I’d forgive her in a blink. But she wasn’t there for Danny.

We pull into the parking lot in front of Harold’s Diner, and I realize Danny has been speaking the whole time I’ve been driving. I must have been making the right noises to answer him, because he doesn’t seem to notice I haven’t heard a word.

“And we’re going to play college baseball and then turn pro. Jace says I’m good enough. What do you think?”

“I think you can do anything you set your mind to, buddy,” I tell him.

Danny’s smile is small. He keeps his eyes on his baseball glove, tracing the stitching with the tips of his fingers. “You think my mom and dad would have liked to watch me play baseball?”

Too many strong emotions are bad for a man’s cardiac health. It takes me a few deep breaths to gather myself together before I can answer. “I think they would have loved it,” I tell my kid. “They would be so proud of you, Danny.”

He meets my gaze, then, and his smile widens. “You think Audrey will want to come to a game?”

I don’t want to lie to the kid, so I just nod toward the diner and say, “Let’s get some dinner, all right?”

That evening, I’m too wired to fall asleep until after I see headlights swing into the driveway next door, then get up to make sure Audrey gets inside okay. A light flicks on upstairs in her house, and I let the curtains fall down to cover my window.

Something broke between us today, and I’m not sure if we’ll be able to fix it.

I’m not sure I want to fix it in the first place.

If Audrey can’t put Danny first—can’t put me first—is there anything there worth salvaging?

On Saturday, I drop Danny at his friend Jace’s house and thank Jace’s mother once again for waiting around on Thursday evening.

She smiles at me and waves me off. “Stop it, Remy,” she says. “How could I say no to you?”

There’s an invitation in her words. It wouldn’t take much for me to pursue it, to start something that would end horizontal with this woman. I’ve done it before. Ever since Rebecca left, it’s all I’ve done. Casual sex, meaningless connections.

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