Page 69 of The Single Dad Project

“Jenn,” he repeated her name through clenched teeth. Inhaling a deep breath, he deliberately relaxed his jaw and tried again. “It’s a little late to be calling. Is everything okay?”

“You’re such a worrier. I see some things never change.” Her light laughter echoed in his ear, and he scrubbed his fingers through his hair, stopping short of fisting it. “Everything’s fine. I’m just calling to talk to my daughter. Can you put Jussy on the phone?”

“Are you kidding me?” he bit out. The last of the lust that had been humming in his veins dissipated under his anger. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and paused. Regardless of the example he’d had growing up, he’d never purposefully disrespect a woman—especially the mother of his child. But goddamn, Jennifer tested him. He exhaled, dropped his arm and sightlessly stared ahead at the far wall. “Jenn,” he said, attempting to inject calm into his voice. “Do you realize what time it is? After nine. Jussy is in bed, asleep.”

A pause, then a soft gasp. “Oh God, I didn’t even realize. It’s just six here,” Jennifer replied with a slight groan. “I don’t—Hold on a second.” In the background, he caught the muffled sounds of laughter, and wait...was that the splash of water? Jennifer shouted to someone, telling them she would be right there. Was she at a party? A damn pool party? He swallowed the bitter words that rappelled up his throat and clambered onto his tongue. By sheer force of will, he didn’t let the words loose. “Sorry about that,” Jennifer said with a soft chuckle. “I completely forgot about the time zone difference. But can I talk to Jussy anyway? I’m sure she’d love to talk to me.”

“She is asleep, Jenn. Has been for a while now. Her bedtime is at eight like it’s always been. I’m not going to wake her up.”

“What? Adam, are you serious?” she demanded, incredulity coloring her tone. Moments later the noise in the background faded, and he assumed she must’ve moved to a different room or area. “I’m calling to speak withmydaughter. You have no right to keep me from her.”

“Jennifer,” he ground out, and now he couldn’t keep his anger and frustration from seeping into his words. “Don’t pull that BS with me.” A hand settled on his upper arm, giving his biceps a gentle squeeze. He jerked his chin down and met Flo’s gaze. The concern and warmth there calmed him, centered him. And later, he would probably be terrified about that, but now he just clung to the life raft she tossed him.

Closing his eyes again, he shook his head and dragged in a cleansing breath. “I would never keep you from Jussy—I never have. You are free to talk to her or see her whenever you want. But she’s been asleep for going on an hour now. I will not go in there and disturb her. This isn’t about you. It’s about her. After that five-minute call, you’ll return to your party or whatever the hell you’re doing, but it will be me who has to settle a cranky and tired child and hope she gets back to sleep before ten. No, I won’t do it,” he firmly said. “Set an alarm, write it down. If talking to your daughter is a priority, then you’ll do whatever it takes to call and talk to her when she’s awake, no matter the time difference.”

“There you go again,” she snapped. “I don’t need you to tell me how to mother my child. You’re so self-righteous. So fucking perfect, aren’t you?”

Shaking off Flo’s hand, he stalked forward, across the living room, heading for the front door. He didn’t stop until he yanked it open and moved out onto the porch. The chilled spring air teased his skin, but he didn’t heed it. His only goal? Take this conversation as far from Justine’s hearing as possible. Didn’t matter that she was asleep. He couldn’t chance her waking up and possibly overhearing her parents arguing. All too well he remembered how the sound of raised voices and the anger thrumming through those voices scared him. He refused to do that to Justine.

“You’ve never made a mistake, have you? Oh no, not Saint Adam,” Jennifer continued her diatribe. “You’re not going to let me forget that you’re there every day, the perfect parent. That doesn’t make you heronlyparent, Adam. I love her and she loves me, and the only one you’re hurting right now is Jus—”

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Adam curled his fingers around the porch railing, rocking on the balls of his feet as if her accusation was a physical blow. “Don’t you dare lecture me on hurting Justine. My sole concern is her, her feelings, her well-being. Even though I’ve been forced to have conversations with her about why her mom was supposed to visit but didn’t show. Why she was supposed to phone and didn’t. I’ve made excuses for you time and time again, Jenn, and you won’t even make the effort to call while she’s awake. Forget coming to see her for your scheduled days and holidays. Forget paying child support. Forget all of that. A. Phone. Call. I’m not hurting our daughter. I’m here. I’m present. But you can’t say the same, and I won’t let you try and make me feel guilty for being her only plugged-in parent. One of us has to be.”

Silence crackled on the April night and hummed across their connection. As his harsh words echoed on the evening air, the urge to apologize rose up from his gut, crowding into his chest.

Dammit.

Not only did he want to protect Justine, but he hated hurting Jennifer. She’d been his wife, his partner; he’d loved her once. And though she’d made choices—continued to make selfish choices—that had broken their family and confused their daughter, he still desired to shield her.

Savior complex. Jennifer had lobbed that at him during one of their many arguments when they were married. And maybe she was right. But she certainly wouldn’t say that tonight.

And he couldn’t bring himself to take back his words.

“Screw you, Adam,” she quietly said and hung up.

He lowered the phone and stared at the screen, a heaviness taking up residence in his gut. Frustration, anger, sadness—they all mingled and eddied, until he couldn’t separate one emotion from the other.

After sliding the cell into his back pocket, he gripped the railing with both hands and leaned all his weight on them, his head bowed.

There are none so blind as those who will not see.

A small part of him would always love Jennifer, simply because of the years they’d shared, the family they created. And because she wasn’t a bad person. Self-absorbed maybe, but not bad. Yet, when would she take theme, me, me!blinders off and see that she was hurting Justine? It aggravated and saddened him that he couldn’t make Jennifersee. He felt helpless.

He felt like he was failing all of them.

The front door opened behind him, but he didn’t turn around at the sound or at the soft tread of footfalls on the porch. He didn’t look up when Flo came to stand beside him, and her body heat reached out to him despite the space separating them.

“Do you need me to stay?” she asked on a near whisper.

Yes. Please don’t go.

The answer immediately leaped into his head, and it boomed like an internal megaphone. And the desperation, the need that rose within him... He might’ve swayed under that need if he hadn’t been clutching the railing like it was his last lifeline.

And it was the power of that hunger to beg her to stay that had a layer of ice coating his chest, numbing him.

“No,” he said, voice flat. “Thank you, but you should go. I’ll see you in the morning.”

For a long moment she didn’t move. He still stared down at the railing, not looking at her. He couldn’t; he was too afraid that if he glimpsed sympathy or, worse, remnants of their shared desire in her eyes, he would sink to his knees, wrap his arms around her and plead with her to come to his bed and not let him be alone tonight.

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