Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“How’s work going?” he asks.
Covering my mouth while I finish chewing, I take a quick drink before answering. “Good. It’s a lot to make sure we have talent seven days a week, but I enjoy it. I’ve got good health benefits, which is important, and I can make my own hours, even work from home when needed.”
“The flexibility makes it nice.”
“It does. Ethan and I always talked about me staying home once we had kids, but…” My voice trails off.
“Is that what you wanted or what he wanted for you?”
I take a few minutes to think about my answer. “Both, I think. I’d love nothing more than to be able to stay home with Mia. There are days I drop her off at day care, and I just want to cry, but I know it’s good for her, especially as she gets older, to be around other children and learn the structure.” I do know that it’s good for her, but damn, I feel like a bad mom every time I drop her off. Feel like I’m not doing enough. Not there for her as I should be. I know it’s my hangup, and that comes from the scars of my divorce.
“Taking your child to day care doesn’t make you a bad mom, Mandy,” he says gently.
“How did you know that’s where my mind was going?”
The smile he gives me is soft and warm, and I could quickly get addicted to seeing him look at me that way. “Because I know you. You’re too hard on yourself.”
“Now you sound like Bellamy,” I tease. It’s important that I bring her into this conversation because I’m quickly forgetting that the man across from me is her father—not simply a kind, caring man who offered to have dinner with me. He is all of that, but he’s also someone I can’t have.
I should really consider that dating app again. I’m starting to see things that aren’t there, and with a man whom I could never go there with.
Is this what rock bottom feels like? Or is it that I’m so starved for a man’s attention that I’m seeing it when it’s not really there?
It’s been far longer than just since my divorce. Ethan and I hadn’t slept together in a few months. We tried endlessly to conceive, but to no avail. I wanted to get tested. He said we would just adopt. I was fine with that. He said we didn’t need to know which one of us had the issue because it could build resentment, and I agreed with him.
Turns out, the problem was me. That’s an easy enough elimination when his assistant was four months pregnant by the time I found out about his affair. I don’t even know if she was the only one, and honestly, I don’t care.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He grins. “My daughter is very smart.”
“That she is,” I agree as our food is delivered.
Will immediately cuts off a piece of steak and holds his fork up to me across the table. “You have to try it,” he tells me.
I lift my fork to try to take it from him, and he shakes his head, laughing. “Just bite it off my fork. I don’t have cooties,” he teases.
Ethan hated eating after me. I wasn’t even allowed to drink out of his cups. Old habits die hard, I guess.
Leaning forward, I wrap my lips around the fork, and, unintentionally, my eyes find Will’s as I do. I feel like I’m moving in slow motion, until my back is pressed against the booth and I’m chewing.
“Okay, that’s not bad,” I tell him. His smile grows. “I didn’t have to work to chew it.”
“I can make a mean steak,” Will boasts. “Next time, you’re trying mine. It will melt in your mouth. You can cut it with a fork,” he says, and I just smile and nod.
Do I know if I’ll ever get the chance to eat one of his steaks? No, I don’t. But tonight, here, as we sit across from each other, sharing a delicious meal, and even better company, I don’t think about what’s next. I don’t think about how I shouldn’t be here with him. I’m just here. I’m allowing myself the rest of the night to just be, and tomorrow, I’ll get my shit together.
Tomorrow, I’ll no longer allow myself to think of Will as anything but my best friend’s dad.
Eleven
Will
* * *
I take my time eating, telling myself it’s to savor the meal. Really, it’s to savor this time with her. Every slow bite is an excuse to linger, to keep this moment from ending too soon. I didn’t expect to run into Amanda tonight. I didn’t expect to enjoy her company as much as I have when I asked her to join me.