Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“But I don’t want to be Goldilocks.”
“Who would you like to be?” I keep my tone light. “What about Superwoman but only in a dress instead of her costume?”
He hugs the dinosaur to his chest and makes an angry face. “No.”
Taking a deep breath, I go down on my haunches. “We don’t have much time. We’re going away, so we have to leave quickly.”
His eyes grow wide. “I don’t want to go.”
“Sweetheart, we have to.”
I try to touch his arm, but he jerks away.
“No! I don’t want to go!”
The outburst catches me off guard. Noah has never reacted like this before. Sure, he threw a few tantrums in the past, mostly when he got overtired, but he’s never refused to leave anywhere with me.
“Noah, sweetheart—”
“No!” He backtracks to the door, shouting hysterically, “I want to stay with Dante. He said I can watch television.”
“Noah.” I straighten. “Calm down, please.”
“No,” he shouts at the top of his voice. “I don’t want to leave! I don’t want to leave! I want to fly in the plane and live in Dante’s big house. He said he’s coming back!” He bursts into tears. “He said he’s coming back!”
My heart shatters inside my chest. I’ve never seen my child like this.
Close to tears myself, I hold out a hand. “Noah, please.”
“Go away!” He throws the dinosaur at me. “Go away! I want to stay here!”
I glance over my shoulder at Jazz, who’s looking on helplessly.
Unable to stand it any longer, I rush over, kneel in front of him, and pull him into my arms. He fights me, kicking and crying, but I just hug him tighter while whispering soothing words in his hair.
“It’s all right, baby. I’m so sorry. You don’t have to leave. I’m sorry.”
It takes a moment before he calms down. I continue to clutch him against me as hiccups rack his small body.
Rocking him gently, I whisper, “I’m sorry, Noah. I’m so sorry, baby.”
I’m a monster. I broke my own child’s heart.
He sniffs against my chest before pulling away. When he looks at me with his tearstained cheeks, I swear he’ll never forgive me.
I get to my feet. “We can still play a game if you want. Maybe not dress-up.”
He sniffles some more and ducks his head. “I don’t want to play.”
Jazz touches my shoulder. Her gaze is sympathetic. “I’ll order breakfast.” She offers Noah a bright smile. “Pancakes, right?”
He runs from the room as fast as he can. A door slams down the lobby. The fact that he didn’t even take his dinosaur shows just how upset he is.
I hesitate between going after him and giving him a moment. Finally, I decide on the latter. He needs time more than he needs me right now.
Leaning against the wall, I close my eyes. I also need a minute to digest what’s just happened, what’s tipped the scale in our lives.
“I’m sorry, Tiana.”
I open my eyes to find Jazz standing in front of me, studying me with concern.
I try to give her a smile. “You should really stop saying that. It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was my idea.”
“It was a good idea.”
She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth.
Suddenly exhausted, I shift down the wall until I sit on the floor with my back braced on the cool surface. Jazz sits down beside me and mimics my pose.
I take off the cap and drag my fingers through my brown hair. Then I pull my knees up and tip my head back to rest against the wall.
We simply sit like that for a while, neither of us speaking. I’m processing Noah’s breakdown—or rather, what that breakdown means—and Jazz is just being the good friend she is, knowing when to be quiet.
“Dante is good for Noah,” I say after a while, staring at the view through the window where the sun is breaking over the city.
Jazz nods a few times. “He can teach him things you can’t.”
A little offended, I steal a quick glance at her. “Like what?”
Staring straight ahead, she stretches her legs out in front of her. “To play soccer.”
I scoff and return my attention to the view. “I can play soccer.”
She huffs. “You can’t kick a ball if your life depends on it.”
Both of us chuckle, but our efforts are meek at best.
“He does need a daddy,” I say.
“He has a daddy.”
“We just have to find a way to make it work. Other divorced couples do. There’s no reason why we can’t.”
She leans her head on the wall and turns her face my way. “Tiana, I hate to break it to you, but Dante isn’t going to settle for only fifty percent of Noah’s time.”
“If I marry again, he’ll have to.”
“Are you saying you’re looking for a husband?”
“No.” I think about that. “Not necessarily.” Not that it wouldn’t be nice to have someone, someone who cares about me and who can offer me a pair of warm arms during all those lonely nights that are filled with my nightmares. “I’m just running different scenarios through my head.”