“Lola,” she chirps in reply. “Her mom said it’s because you’re not the Peach Queen anymore and Daddy wanted a newer model.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I hate that they’re already discussing this at school, and that they’re discussing it with my kids. On a lesser note, I hate that Sophie’s just told my boss.
Caleb’s eyes are wide as he looks from her to me, and I see a hint of the boy I once imagined he was—the one capable of concern, of kindness. But it doesn’t even matter if that’s really who he is, and I’ve got much bigger shit to deal with right now.
Without a word to him, I grab Sophie by one hand and Henry by the other and march them both straight to the house.
I take a seat on the ottoman across from them once we’re inside, hesitating before I speak. “I’m sorry you heard Lola say that,” I begin.
Sophie’s head tilts. “But it’s true, right?”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek. I spent my entire childhood wishing I had a father. I chose the wrong one for them, but…he’s still their father and they’ll be dealing with him in some capacity for the rest of their lives. They deserve, as much as possible, to have a relationship with him that isn’t tainted by what he did to me. “Daddy and I just weren’t very happy together.”
Henry sits in my lap and rests his head against my chest, while Sophie frowns, deep in thought. “Is Whitney the Peach Queen now?”
“No,” I say with a sigh. “She isn’t anyone.”
It’s a struggle not to sound bitter, and I guess I don’t quite succeed. Sophie squeezes into my lap beside Henry and places her small hand on my cheek in consolation. “It’s okay, Mommy. I still think you’re pretty.”
8
CALEB
My daddy has a girlfriend.
You’re not the Peach Queen anymore and Daddy wanted a newer model.
I wish I could remove that moment from my brain, forget the way Lucie paled as her daughter spoke.
I’m not sure what it is I thought happened between her and her husband, but it wasn’t…that. Because who the fuck cheats on Lucie? How the hell does anyone get lucky enough to wind up with her and choose someone else instead?
I see her later that evening, swinging her feet off the dock’s edge. From a distance, she doesn’t look all that different from the girl she once was, the skinny kid who’d sneak down to the dock at night, all wide-eyed and uncertain, and whisper her secrets to me as if she couldn’t stand to hold onto them a moment longer. I’d only seen her here a few times before she admitted her dad was Robert Underwood—and then it started to make sense, that uncertainty of hers. Because even among tech CEOs like my dad, Underwood was a big deal. And I already knew he was the type of guy who wouldn’t hesitate to ruin someone who stood in his way.
“He wanted my mom to get an abortion,” she’d said on one of those nights, her slender shoulders hunched over. “My mom says she would have, if she’d known how cheap he was gonna be.”
It was the kind of shit no kid should ever know about their parents, but especially not at her age. And when her mouth trembled as she tried to force a smile, I felt sick, and helpless. I wish, now, that I’d done something for her, though I still don’t know what I could have done.
My feet hit the dock and she turns, unsurprised to see me here, and raises a brow. “Did you wait until nightfall so my daughter wouldn’t pepper you with personal questions?”
“Yes, I’ll be doing all my boating and sunbathing between midnight and five a.m., henceforth.”
That only wins me half a smile.
“I guess nothing about that incident made you decide you like children.”
I drop down beside her before swinging my legs over the dock’s edge for the first time in a decade. “I don’t actively hate kids, you know. I just think they’re monsters who require an unreasonable amount of care while offering you very little in return.”
She leans back on her hands. There’s something gentle in her eyes. “They offer you everything in return. But it’s…intangible.”
“Excellent. You enjoy your intangible benefits. I’ll enjoy keeping all my free time and expendable income to myself.” This wins me a full smile at last.
“If you need anything,” I add haltingly, “money for a lawyer or something, let me know.”
“Thank you. I’ll be fine. Though it would be amazing if you could stop witnessing my most embarrassing moments.”