Chapter One Hundred Three

Lena went to the bedroom she was sharing with her daughter to get her phone, only to find Kenzie speaking carefully into the phone, using the voice feature to send a text. It was almost scary the way kids picked up on technology.

It was even more scary that Kenzie was texting someone. Before Viktor, Lena had always allowed Kenzie to text her grandparents…using the voice commands since she was too young to spell most words. But at the moment, those grandparents were in the next room, so there was no reason to text them.

“Who are you texting?” Lena asked as she came closer.

“Dane. I wanted to know if he liked the pictures I sent him.”

Holy hell.

Lena hadn’t sent Dane any pictures…even though Kenzie drew him one nearly every day to say thank you. Apparently, Lena wasn’t the only one who felt like they owed him the world.

The reason she hadn’t sent them wasn’t a very good one, either.

She’d wanted to wait until she was set up in their new house. Once they were settled, she was planning to invite him to visit. She wanted him to see she wasn’t a mess anymore. That she was capable and successful.

“Can I have that?” She swiped the phone from Kenzie and nodded toward the door. “Why don’t you go see if Nana wants help putting the groceries away?”

Thankfully, Kenzie jumped up. “Okay. But tell him I’m going to draw him a picture of a dragon today.”

Lena gave her daughter a smile. “I’m sure he will love it.”

Kenzie paused by the door and tilted her head to the side. “Does he like dragons?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Kenzie seemed to be in agreement, and left the room.

Lena dropped onto the bed and brought up the text thread on the phone.

Sure enough, it had started with Kenzie.

Lena: Is you leg all better?

Only autocorrect had kept it down to one typo, Lena was sure.

A long time had passed before Dane answered. Had he not been sure whether he wanted to get involved with her again, or was he stumped by her poor grammar?

Dane: It’s getting better. Physical therapy is a bitch.

She frowned but gave him a free pass on the cursing since it was logical to assume he was texting her, not a six-year-old.

Lena: What is pretzel trophy?

Lena winced at the screen. What the heck was— Oh. Physical therapy.

Dane hadn’t answered that one.

Lena: Did you like the pitcher I made with the ran low.

This was like playing an impossible game of charades. Pitcher was obviously picture. But ran low?

Fortunately, the next icon was an emoji of a rainbow. Got it.

Dane: Is this Kenzie?

Lena let out a breath of relief that he’d finally understood.

Lena: Yes.

Dane: How are you?

Lena: Good. Mommy and me are living with managed and poppyseed.

It seemed Nana and Poppy were not in the dictionary.

Lena: I get to swim. Do you like to swim?

Dane: I do. I get to swim in pretzel trophy.

Lena smiled. Smartass.

Lena: Can you come swim with me? I have a do fun.

Lena was pretty sure that was supposed to be dolphin, in reference to the large inflatable dolphin Kenz loved to ride on.

Dane: Where’s your mommy? We’d have to ask her.

Lena: I get

That was where Kenzie’s conversation had stopped.

Lena stared at the phone in her hands, wondering what to do next. What could she type that wouldn’t make him want to swoop in to save the day?

Lena: This is really Lena. Sorry about that. I hope you’re doing well.

Dane: Hi. I’m good. Sorry about cursing.

Lena: Not your fault.

Dane: I think I was invited to a pool party.

Lena frowned and tugged at her lip. She couldn’t invite him to visit this week or next. They would be having Brandon’s memorial service tomorrow. Regardless, it would be disrespectful for her to invite her—whatever Dane was—to stay at her in-laws’ home just after burying their son.

Lena would settle on her new home in two weeks, and she and Kenzie would be moving. They had been fortunate enough to find the perfect house, and the sellers had already relocated. She had too much going on right now.

Lena: Now’s not a good time.

She winced because it seemed rather harsh.

Dane: No problem. Take care of yourself.

Lena: You too.

That was it.

And it made her feel like hell.