“So whose ass do I need to kick?” I asked, throwing Charlie’s office door open wide.
“If it’s mine, take a number. Everyone hates me today.” Charlie glanced up from his computer, then at the older man sitting across the desk from him. “Except for you, Dad.”
The older man jumped to his feet and greeted me with a bro hug. “Johnny boy, do you know any stuntmen? We’re heading into the studio to shoot the new Baxter movie next week and we’re hiring. Charlie says he’s too busy to help.”
Sebastian Rourke was probably a year older than Sean with a leaner build and slightly longer hair. He wore designer suits, talked a mile a minute, and always seemed to have a deal in the works. I supposed that made sense. He was a high-powered Hollywood producer and the master behind the blockbuster Baxter Chronicles.
Charlie didn’t look much like his dad, but he definitely inherited his drive and intensity. One would think they’d clash more than they did. They seemed to get along well. Charlie was smart about asking for both of his dads’ input in business. Sebastian and Justin’s boyfriend, Gray, were partners when Charlie was a kid. They’d co-parented Charlie and were still the best of friends. Geez, some guys had all the luck, I mused, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
“Congrats on the movie. Can’t help you with the stunts, though. I do all my own and leave Charlie to deal with publicity…like that photo we said would never see the light of day. What happened, Char?”
Sebastian cocked his head curiously as he perched on the corner of Charlie’s desk, unfazed by my angry outburst. “What photo? Something salacious? I want to hear all about it.”
Charlie rolled his eyes. “No. Not salacious or titillating in the slightest. It’s sexy for sure, but it’s certainly nothing to get worked up about. Who cares if it’s on Instagram, Johnny? It’s your arm, not your ass.”
“That’s not the point. It wasn’t supposed to get that far. You promised you’d—”
“I did and I’m sorry. I have no idea who leaked the photo. It wasn’t me.”
I stared him down for a long moment, then flopped in the chair Sebastian had abandoned while Charlie showed his dad the social media post in question. “Do you think it was Clay? We shouldn’t be working with him.”
Sebastian snorted. “Really? C’mon, Johnny. A photo of your tattoo is not news. If it gets anyone talking about you, it’s just free publicity.”
“Thank you,” Charlie beamed at his father before turning to me. He fiddled with the collar on his striped shirt as he leaned forward. “There is nothing whatsoever tying you to Clay. Nothing. But you have to know that this is just the beginning. You’re on the precipice of superstardom, Johnny. Superstardom. There will be manufactured speculation and chatter about you for the rest of your life…who you sleep with, who you love, who you hate.”
“It’s ridiculous” I groused.
“Maybe so, but they talk about you because they love your music. They love the idea of you. They don’t know you. They don’t know that this photo bugs you. They don’t know why. And honestly, neither do I, but whatever.” Charlie’s curls swayed as he shook his head. “Look, I can’t protect you from all the nonsense. I’ll do my best, of course, but you need to let the people you care about know that there’s an element we can’t control. People will spin stories all day long. Promote your music. Promote your truth.”
“So you don’t care that there’s speculation on the Internet about me and Clay?”
“Nope. Not at all. It’s barely a story. Every photo of you from that dinner a couple of months ago looks like an uptight business meeting with bad lighting. To be perfectly honest, your fans would be a hell of a lot more interested in the real story.”
“No.”
“Ooh, what’s the real story?” Sebastian asked.
“Johnny has an older lover with two kids. And before you yell at me, I didn’t name names,” Charlie said with an impish grin.
“It’s not a story, Char. He’s not—it’s not…something I can talk about,” I hesitated.
Charlie eyed me intently. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready, you tell me first. It’s best if I’m in charge of doing the spinning.”
I nodded.
But I didn’t know if that would ever happen. Zero was revving toward a level of fame and fortune beyond our wildest aspirations, and I was beginning to realize there was a price tag associated with this dream. Privacy and anonymity were a freedom I might not have for long. The buzz in the restaurant in Palm Springs was a good example. It had freaked me out a little more than I’d let on.
For the first time since this ride began, I had something to lose…and it scared the hell out of me.
A few months ago, I’d teased Sean about his tendency to compulsively compartmentalize his life. I understood now. It wasn’t just a fear-driven quest to keep demons at bay. It was about protecting one’s sanity and the people and places that felt safest. Like home.
I’d never had a real home. I had friends who felt like home and that had always been good enough for me. Then I bought a house and thought, Wow, now I have that one thing I always wanted. But a house turned out to be four walls. A sweet-looking shell without a real soul. A home was a haven…and Sean’s house had become that for me.
I could push away any niggling doubts or worries and relax here. A cat on my chest, a dog at my feet, and my sexy lover uncorking a bottle of Pinot in his kitchen, asking me for details of my day like I was the most interesting man in the world.
“We’re supposed to finish recording in July and hopefully release the next album by late September. Charlie wants us to do a few local shows in late fall and wait to start the big portion of the tour in January.” I traced a circle between Tabby’s ears, coaxing a soft purr from her and petting Lullah with my free hand. “And we’re going everywhere. Tokyo, Melbourne, Munich, London…everywhere.”
Sean poured a glass of wine, fetched a beer from the fridge, balanced the bottle on the charcuterie board he’d put together, and carried the burden into the living area. He set it on the coffee table and gave Lullah a warning when she sniffed at the cheese and cracker spread. Then he handed over a beer and motioned for me to make room for him on the sectional.
“That’s exciting,” he commented, raising his glass in a toast.
“I guess it is.” I sipped my beer thoughtfully, chuckling when the cat leaped from her perch with a loud meow.
Yes, my cat was at his house. I didn’t like leaving Tabby at night, and she felt the same way. When she took out her angst on my new sofa, I asked if I could bring her. Sean didn’t hesitate. The more, the merrier. See? Home.
“You don’t sound excited.” He set his glass on the coffee table and pulled my legs across his lap.
“I am. It’s daunting, though. We’ve been to London, but this time there’s a good chance we’re playing Wembley. When we started, Justin told us about a dream he had where Zero was headlining there. We all laughed. There’s a ninety-thousand-people capacity at Wembley Stadium, and we couldn’t get a fucking gig at Carmichael’s back then. And we had to turn down a few opportunities because we had to work at our regular jobs.”
“You’ve come a long way, baby.”
I linked my fingers with his and squeezed. “Come with me.”
“Where?”
“London, Melbourne…everywhere. The kids could come too. It would be amazing. Don’t say no. At least not yet.” I set my hand over his mouth, sensing an automatic protest. “I had a crappy day, and I don’t want any negativity.”
Sean kissed my palm, rolling his eyes at my dramatic sigh. “What happened?”
“Nothing. We sat in meetings in a fucking conference room for an hour, wasted another hour talking about the contract with the water dudes, and then…get this…I spent my entire afternoon with a photographer in my face. It was fucking torture. I’m so hungry and I don’t have the strength to get a cracker,” I moaned, wiggling my fingers in the general direction of the appetizers.
“Oh, brother.” He leaned over and put a cheese and cracker combo together and popped it in my mouth. “The lasagna will be ready in twenty min—”
Ding dong.
I chuckled when Lullah nearly upended the coffee table in her haste to greet whoever was at the door with a friendly bark.
“Are you expecting company?”
“No. I’ll be right back.” He called after Lullah, hurrying through the living room to the foyer.
“Shit. The cat!”
And that was when all hell broke loose. A streak of black and gold shot out of the room. I raced after her in bare feet, calling her name…like she’d listen to me. She didn’t. Neither did Lullah. The dog upped her barking game by fifty percent just as Sean opened the door.
“Whoa!” Our guest stepped inside to get out of the way.
I grabbed Tabby before she darted outside and hooked my fingers around Lullah’s collar, inclining my head in a wordless request to close the door. I released the animals and stood with a grin.
“That’s a wild crew. Sorry about—oh. Hey. Fiona.” I cast a wary gaze between Sean and his ex-wife. Fuck. Something told me this was bad, but I pasted a friendly smile on my face and barreled on. “How’s it goin’?”
Fiona blinked in surprise, then held up a pink bag awkwardly. “I—this is Penny’s. The kids are with my parents tonight. I’m leaving for Phoenix in an hour and I didn’t want them to have to go back to the house, so…um. Here you go.”
She thrust the bag into Sean’s hands and smiled.
He nodded stiffly. “Thanks.”
“Sure. Um…I should go. I’m interrupting and—are you…together…like together?” She aimed her question at me and added, “I thought I met your boyfriend. The guy with the photos at the studio.”
“Oh, yeah, no. Clay isn’t my boyfriend,” I replied, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
“Okay. I just…I saw an article about you and him online. I guess you can’t believe everything you read, huh?” She brushed a wayward strand of hair from her eyes. “The kids indicated that you two were…but I didn’t know and—”
“Fiona…” Sean sighed.
“No, it’s cool. I think. I don’t know. You’re famous, right? They were talking about you at Starbucks this morning. It was surreal. I wanted to tell my barista I knew you. He would have been impressed but…I just don’t know if this is good for Parker and Penny.”
“Fiona, don’t—”
“I know. I know. Maybe it’s not my business.” She held her manicured hands up in surrender. “Or maybe it is. What happens to my kids when someone puts two and two together? Are paparazzi going to show up at their school or follow them home? Will they end up on the cover of some tacky tabloid or—”
“Stop. That’s not going to happen,” he replied with measured calm.
“You don’t know that.”
“I wouldn’t let it happen.”
“That is so like you, Sean,” she continued with a humorless half laugh. “You think you can control everything, but this is beyond your realm. What happens when they start digging around in your life? Or in our past? Then what? Do I get to relive that special moment when my husband told me our fucking marriage had been a sham from the start? That everything I thought we had was a lie?”
“That is not true.” He clenched his jaw, the vein at his temple pulsing angrily.
“That’s your version,” she snapped. “What are you going to tell the press when they ask about my children?”
“They’re my children too,” he growled. “No one is getting near them. Ever.”
“Easy to say until some asshole with a huge lens takes compromising photos of you and your boyfriend and—”
“We’re friends, Fiona.” Sean’s voice boomed and bounced off the high ceiling, landing like a hammer a moment later when he added, “Just friends.”
I flinched. My heart beat like a battering ram against my rib cage. It was so loud I almost didn’t hear Fiona speak.
She must have heard the note of finality in his tone too. She glanced between us, lingering on me for a moment before letting out a ragged breath.
“Right. I’m sorry. I should go.” She smiled tentatively and glanced at her watch. “I have a flight to catch. The kids have the usual after-school activities tomorrow. You know the drill. I’ll talk to you next week.”
Fiona spun on her heels, leaving us in a stifling cloud of Jo Malone. Sean closed the door behind her and dropped Penny’s bag on the bench under a black and white photo collage of the kids before braving a glance my way.
I wondered what he saw. I felt like I’d been slapped or worse…put in my place.
He released an uneven breath and scratched his nape nervously. “Johnny, I didn’t mean that.”
My Adam’s apple slid in my throat theatrically. “Yeah, you did.”
“No, I…I didn’t. But I should probably talk to her…set things straight,” he continued lamely.
“Maybe. Yeah…maybe.” I moved my hands to my hips, crossed my arms, and dropped them again in agitation. “I’m gonna…”
I didn’t finish my sentence. I headed into the great room, willing myself to come up with a kickass exit speech, but damn it, I had nothing. I gently set Tabby in her carrier and fastened the latch, then stooped to put my shoes and socks on.
“What are you doing?” he croaked. “Dinner is almost ready.”
“I’m not hungry. I’m going home.”
“Johnny, don’t do that.” He lifted my chin, rubbing my scruff till I met his eyes. “I’m sorry. You’re not just my friend. I’m sorry I hurt you. I am.”
I pushed his hand away gently. “I know. The problem is…I think I’m too far gone.”
Sean frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I want this more than you do, and it’s kind of killing me.” I raked my fingers through my hair roughly and stared unseeing at the bookshelves on the opposite wall behind the piano.
“No, I want you too. You know that,” he whispered.
“I know you want me. But you can’t give me…all of you. I said I was cool with that, but God…I don’t think I am. I’m in too deep.”
“I am too.”
“No. You’re not, Sean. You’re calm and controlled, even and measured. You’ve got it all figured out. Somehow, she makes you nervous.” I pointed in the general direction of the front door and shook my head ruefully. “I used to think it was a co-parent, ex-spouse thing. Something I couldn’t appreciate because I hadn’t been there. But that’s not it. It’s not Fiona. It’s not the kids. It’s you. You don’t want what I want.”
“Yes, I do,” he insisted. “I want you. You know I do.”
“Maybe so, but I don’t think it matters, because I don’t fit in your world. I’m never going to fit. We both know it. This started out as something easy and fun. It feels different now. And as much as I love being with you, I want so much more. More than you’ll ever be able to give me.” My voice cracked, and my eyes welled with unshed tears. “I need to let you go.”
“Hey, hey, hey. C’mere.” Sean pulled me to his chest and held me tight. “Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” I slumped against him, sighing unhappily. “Fuck, I wish it was that easy.”
He kissed my forehead and my nose. “It is that easy. You say the word, and it’s yours.”
I pushed out of his arms, tears spilling onto my cheeks. “You’re not listening. You’re trying to manage me. Put me in a box…someplace you think I’ll fit. Look at me, Sean. I’m not that guy. My life is complicated too. More complicated than I thought it was. I’m not safe anymore.”
“Are you talking about the Instagram post? It’ll blow over—”
“And another one will take its place. And you’ll still have an ex-wife, and you’ll still be worried about your kids. I’m not blaming you. I’m not angry with you. I get it. People I’ve never met in my life are making up stories about me and taking photos of me eating dinner and talking to friends. You’re never going to be safe with me. When they find out about you, they’ll ask about your kids and dog and your divorce and…I’m your worst nightmare. I see why you need to keep me separate. I understand that you need me to be your friend, but I just…I can’t.” I sucked in a ragged breath and then another. “I’m not your fucking friend. I’m not your friend. I’m not…”
“Baby, don’t—”
I held up my hand, then swiped at my face and sniffed. “I’m not. If you want to label me…I’m the guy who just loves you.”
“Johnny…”
“I love you. And I can’t be okay with less anymore. I just can’t. Less will only hurt both of us.”
I studied him, memorizing his square jaw, sad eyes, and the rigid set of his shoulders. He wanted everything I did. I knew it. But we were all or nothing now. Not just friends. I bent to pick up the meowing cat…and somewhere in the house, a timer went off, the dog started barking again, and life went on.
But not for me. Not here. It was time to go back to my real world.
Sean
Generally speaking, I was a pretty tough guy. But I was also my own worst enemy. I didn’t know how to say what I wanted when it came to matters of the heart. It was up to me to do my best with the choices I’d made. I wanted to be an attentive father, a fair partner to my ex, a generous employer, and a philanthropist for the LGBTQ community. I wanted to use whatever resources I had to make a difference. However, I was a bit more careful about using my voice.
A hero without a voice wasn’t much of a hero.
I couldn’t find it the next day either. I didn’t talk to a soul unless it was absolutely necessary. I worked from my home office and corresponded by texts or emails only. I ignored an urgent message from Darren and texted him to let him know I’d call him later. Maybe. Nothing pressing was happening on any of our deals, and our joint businesses were in order. Whatever it was could wait until I had my shit together. Which I’d hoped would happen before Parker and Penny arrived. It didn’t.
And I was a fucking mess.
I should have had a game plan. I should have known I might find myself here. And that should have been okay. I was good at being alone. I was good at building walls and keeping static at bay. But somehow Johnny had cracked the code and made his way inside. His absence was unbearable. How ironic was it that a man who dressed in black and couldn’t see color was the very essence of light and beauty? His smile, his laughter, his wicked sense of humor, and…fuck, everything.
I was lost without him. I didn’t know how to make it better, and I didn’t have the luxury of showing up on his doorstep and making some grand gesture. It was my turn to have the kids.
One of the greatest gifts of parenthood was perspective. Children saw life at a different level. They gave without thinking, searched for good before evil, and spoke with a sense of wonder. Penny did, anyway. Parker struggled with the in-between phase the way most teenagers did, but at heart, he was still a kid. They both needed dinner and a friendly reminder about homework and chores. In other words, my life might be a disaster, but I had a responsibility.
And somehow, I muddled through. I reheated the untouched lasagna from the previous evening, asked about school, helped with a couple of assignments, and suggested winding down with a TV show.
“Can we watch a movie instead?” Parker asked.
I glanced at my watch and nodded. “Sure. If you can find one you both agree on.”
Penny clapped. “Easy! Let’s watch Spy Kids. Johnny said he loved that movie. Can he come over? I’m gonna text him.”
“No.” I fiddled with the buttons on the remote control, then cleared my voice. “Not tonight.”
“But he doesn’t mind. He likes it when I text him. He told me I could—”
“I know, honey. I know. I just—” I broke off with a hoarse noise. “Maybe not tonight. That’s all.”
Penny frowned and glanced over at Parker, who looked equally alarmed. After the longest five-second pause of my life, she twisted a lock of hair around her finger and cuddled up next to me on the sofa.
“We can watch whatever you want, Parker,” she said diplomatically as she reached for a throw and spread it over us.
“Okay. Um…I’ll find it.”
I don’t know what we watched. No clue. I blocked out sound and did my best to blend in with the furniture. I was here. An adult in the room.
Or not.
“Daddy?” Penny whispered twenty minutes into the movie or TV show or Bigfoot documentary or whatever the fuck was on the flat-screen. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
She wiped moisture from the corner of my eye and kissed my cheek, then fixed Parker with a meaningful stare.
He looked over at me and frowned. And just before I could push reset and get my emotional avalanche under control, he hopped from his end of the sofa and came to sit on my other side. He snagged a portion of the blanket for himself, eliciting an angry growl from his sister. Once they got the balance right, they turned their attention to the TV again.
And me? Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t see for shit. I gave myself a pep talk and almost succeeded in pulling it together.
“Don’t worry. It’s gonna be okay, Dad,” Parker whispered.
I nodded, eyes forward as tears ran unchecked. So much for being tough and brave. My own father would have been mortified. But it didn’t occur to me to be ashamed. I was too damn grateful.
Ending my marriage was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. It wasn’t easy on anyone. So many more people were affected by our divorce than the two of us—our kids, our families, our friends, yet I never regretted it. Nor did I think marrying in the first place was a mistake. I’d loved Fiona. I’d loved her passion, her ambition, her boundless energy, and her casually irreverent side. I’d loved that she wanted the same things I did. Success, a good home, children, security. And I’d mistakenly thought the fact that we set off on the same path meant we’d stay on that path for good.
There was no great story here. We simply grew apart. The things we used to love about each other became points of contention. Amusing idiosyncrasies turned into grating habits, and things that were once attractive seemed…distasteful. Sadly, it didn’t take long to unravel. We were married for twelve years and separated for two of those. If I had one regret, it was that we didn’t end it sooner. Kids shouldn’t be subjected to their parents’ constant squabbling and inability to communicate.
And it should be noted, our marriage didn’t end because of my sexuality. I didn’t meet someone else. I wouldn’t have let myself succumb to that kind of temptation. Nor did I suddenly want dick. I’d learned to bury those impulses years ago. Mind over matter. I told myself I had everything I wanted. Anything more would be greedy, and if I’d learned anything in my religious upbringing, it was that greed and lust were sins.
But one day, I woke up in a bad marriage, resenting the woman I used to love. We didn’t hate each other, but we were on that road. When counseling didn’t work, we tried a separation. That was when I realized I’d been playing this all wrong. I’d been so worried about going to hell for sins I hadn’t committed, but I was already there. The only thing that eventually made me feel whole and sane and happy was admitting my truth. I was bi.
I came out to Fiona after the divorce was final. Bad move. I should have come out sooner. I’d thought they were separate events. She hadn’t seen it that way at the time. Needless to say, it tainted our relationship. Sometimes she was cool and breezy, sometimes she was difficult and a tad passive-aggressive. Those surprise bursts of anger made me nervous. And that was exactly why I hadn’t told Fiona about Johnny and me. I knew she wouldn’t like it. Just like I knew I’d say all the wrong things and jeopardize…everything. My relationship with her, the kids, and maybe even Johnny.
But I couldn’t do…nothing. I didn’t deserve Johnny, but God, I wanted him more than my next breath.
I had to talk to Fiona. She was permanently and intrinsically connected to my life through our children. And though I didn’t need her approval, I needed her to know the truth.
So I showed up at her office early Friday. I exchanged pleasantries with her secretary, Molly, who—funny enough—used to babysit Parker when he was a toddler. We reminisced for a few minutes about the old days…pre-divorce, pre-me-coming-out, and agreed that time did indeed fly. Then she offered me a beverage and left me in a fishbowl of a conference room to wait for her boss.
I sat in one of the leather chairs at the marble-topped table, swiveling toward the floor-to-ceiling window to gaze at the puffy white clouds over Los Angeles. I rehearsed my speech and coached myself to keep it short and sweet.
“Sean.”
I stood when she entered the room. “Hi. How are you?”
Fiona was a pretty woman. She oozed sophistication and panache in a crisp white shirt, tailored slacks, high heels, and an overly bright smile. I probably looked the same—a little phony…but trying.
“Is everything okay? Are the kids okay?”
“Yes, everyone’s fine. I wanted to talk to you for a minute about the other night,” I said lamely.
She sighed as she sank into the chair next to mine, motioning for me to sit. “Oh…yeah, that was awkward.”
I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded. “I kind of blew it. I didn’t say what I should have, and I’m not sure I can make things right but I need to try.”
Silence.
“There’s nothing to say. If you’re just friends, then—”
“We’re not.”
Silence. She looked away for a moment. “I didn’t think so.”
I covered my eyes, kneading the bridge of my nose to keep emotion at bay. Short and sweet.
I cleared my throat. “Johnny is more than my friend. He’s important to me.”
“All right,” she said softly. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. Look, I know it’s complicated. For a lot of reasons. He’s younger than me. He’s a popular rock star who’s about to become very famous. I have to be honest—it’s daunting. I’ve seen it in action. People take photos of him, stare at him, fans want a piece of him. People will make up stories about him either to sell something or be associated with someone special. He may never live a truly normal life, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting him.” I paused when my voice hitched. “I didn’t want it to get to this point. I didn’t want the kids to ever touch that part of my personal life. But it happened…and I have two choices. I can let him go or I can fight like hell to make this work. I don’t want to lose him, Fi.”
“Sean…”
“And I’m realizing that I had the same choice in our marriage. You think I didn’t choose you, but the truth is, we didn’t choose each other.”
She tightened her jaw and fluttered her eyelashes as if to ward off tears. Then she stood and pressed a button, lowering the shades in the glass room. She didn’t return to the table until the space was lit only by the view of the city.
“Maybe that’s true, but what am I supposed to say now? Did you come here to stir up old ghosts or rub something in or—”
“No! I came to apologize. Again. I came to tell you that no part of me was ever faking with you.”
“Sean…”
I shook my head and barreled on. “I never lied about the way I felt about you. I loved you, Fi. And I think you loved me.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I promise I’m not pulling ghosts from the grave, but I want you to know that in spite of everything that we went through, I respect you and I care about you. Maybe on some level you’re still angry with me, but—”
“I’m not angry,” she rasped. “Not now. I was, though. I was very angry. I couldn’t help thinking you’d lied about yourself and killed our marriage. But we didn’t want the same things, and we didn’t leave room for growth or change.”
“True.”
“A good therapist is worth her weight in gold.” She gave a sardonic half laugh as she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “I don’t hate you, but I resent you sometimes.”
“Well, ditto,” I admitted.
The corner of her mouth twitched in a reluctant smile. “That’s the thing about being divorced with kids, Sean. You’ll always be in my life. I like you as a person, and I think you’re a great dad but…the part of me that used to love you isn’t sure how to move forward sometimes. You’re not my friend. You’re not my enemy. It’s been almost six years since we officially ended things. Maybe closer to ten since we knew our marriage was in trouble. Do the same rules apply? Do we allow each other to be happy now?”
“I hope we can.”
“Yes. Me too. I know you’re committed to Parker and Penny, and I trust you implicitly. A lot of people in our position can’t say the same, so I’m grateful. But damn, I still get angry. Sometimes I wish we had the life we said we were going to build together. It’s not our reality, though. Our kids are all we have left, but they are my whole fucking world,” she choked. “They have to be safe. They have to be protected. They—”
“They are, Fi,” I intercepted. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not abandoning them. I would give my life to protect them without a second thought. They’re my world too. But Johnny is—he’s very important to me. I can’t give him up. I need to try to make this work. If he’ll have me.”
She nodded slowly. “I can’t blame you for wanting a chance to start over with someone new. I want that for myself.”
“I want that for you too,” I assured her. “In fact, I think the kids need to see us live real lives. Honest lives. They need to see us happy. Even if it’s with other people.”
“Yes, you’re right.” She crossed her arms and bit her lower lip. “You know, I used to worry that you’d forget about them or resent them when—”
“Christ, Fi, I would never—”
“I know. I know. I know you love them and that you’ll always give them your best. And I know you’ll protect them and keep them safe. You’re a fucking amazing dad. They’re lucky,” she said with a smile.
I leaned forward and set my hand over hers. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye and chuckled softly. “Thanks. I knew I liked you. And for the record, the kids love Johnny. They talk about him constantly. He’s been so good to them. I hope he makes you happy.”
I pursed my lips and nodded. “Yeah, well…I need to work a few things out, but that’s another story.”
“Then go do it. You and me…we’re good.”
I squeezed her fingers, aware of the empty space where my wedding band had once fit. That void no longer felt heavy, like heartache. We’d stood at an altar many years ago, holding hands as we exchanged vows, rings, and a forever that neither of us could deliver. The rings were gone, the vows absolved by a court of law, yet we were still here. No longer together, but still trying.