Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 36506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
“I’m just in a funk,” I tell him. “Nothing to worry about.”
He spins his new wedding ring around his finger, eyebrows furled together as he studies me. “What does Cole say about the whole thing?”
“Cole’s not a fan of Amara.”
“Is anyone?” He sighs and shakes his head. “Sorry, that was mean. But she does sort of take advantage of you, Dad.”
“Amara is a good person,” I argue, though it’s a weak one. “She’s sweet.”
Brayden frowns. “She emotionally manipulates you.”
“How so?”
“She cries to get her way. You fold every time.”
He’s not wrong. I hate it when she cries. Hell, I hate it when anyone cries. It makes me uncomfortable. All I want is to fix them and make it all better. It’s amazing Brayden didn’t turn out to be a spoiled little shit. Thankfully, he rarely cried.
“What does she even bring to the relationship?” Brayden asks, continuing his deep probe into my romantic life. “As someone who loves you and watches closely, I’m having trouble defining what that is.”
How is my eighteen-year-old son wiser than my forty-four-year-old self?
“She’s nice,” I say lamely. “And looks nice.”
Brayden groans, eyes widening. “For real, Dad? That’s not a good reason to stay with someone. If you asked why I care about Casey, I would have a helluva lot more to say than, ‘she’s nice and looks nice.’ She’s gorgeous and sweet and sassy. I can’t get her out of my head. My heart physically aches when she goes to work. I love that woman with my entire soul.”
A spike of envy courses through me.
What would it mean to love someone so wholly as Brayden loves Casey?
I can’t even imagine.
I mean, I love my son deeply, but I’ve never been “in love” with a woman. Not in the way he describes it. I really am fucked up in the head. Easton’s going to need to bring out all his bibles to thump me in the head with in order to fix me.
My phone buzzes on the table. I glance over at it, chest tightening. Once I see it’s Cole texting and not Amara, I relax.
Cole: My knee is feeling better. Let’s hit it again tomorrow at 5.
I quickly reply that I’ll be there before turning my attention back to my son.
“I want that,” I tell Brayden. “What you and Casey have. But no matter how hard I try, it’s not working with me and Amara.”
“So…” He leans forward, boring his gaze into me. “Are you going to break up with her?”
I scrub my palm over my face and shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t owe her anything,” Brayden says gently. “She does nothing to make you happy. I don’t get why you can’t see that, Dad.”
But what about Emma?
“It’s not that simple,” I murmur. “You’ll understand one day.”
His eyes dart back and forth as he contemplates my words before understanding gleams in his eyes. “You’re staying with her because of Emma? Because you feel guilty?”
Dammit, Brayden.
Why does he always call it like it is with me?
“Yes,” I bite out, irritation burning hot over my flesh. “They have nowhere to go. Emma already had to switch school districts when Amara moved to Gordon’s unit. She’s finally settled in. I can’t do that to her.” I rub at the back of my neck in frustration. “It’s fine. I just need to think is all. We’re fine.”
Brayden rolls his eyes. “Whenever you say something is fine, it’s most assuredly not fine. Come on, Dad. You can’t do this to yourself. Emma’s not your kid. Not your problem.”
It’s not true, though.
Who keeps groceries in the fridge for Emma? Me.
Who recently took Emma shopping for new running shoes once she made the track team? Also, me.
Who saved Emma when a goose from the pond decided to let itself into the house and scare her half to death? Yeah, that was me.
My phone buzzes again. This time, it’s Emma.
Emma: Can you come get me at 4? I got detention and Mom’s working late.
Who picks up Emma when she gets in trouble at school? Always me.
Me: I’ll be there. Dare I ask why this time?
Usually, she gets detention for yapping too long in the hallway and coming in late. For a girl who can run fast enough to secure herself a spot on the varsity track team, she’s slow as fuck when it matters.
Emma: Apparently throat punching is a punishable offense.
“For fuck’s sake,” I hiss, shaking my head. “Detention again. She throat punched someone.”
Brayden chuckles. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
Me: What the hell?
Emma: Right?
Me: You’re eighteen now. You’re lucky you didn’t get arrested.
Emma: Who’s gonna arrest me? Your BFF? LOL.
The balls on that girl…
Me: Which class?
Emma: You’ll never guess.
Me: Coach Long again?
Emma: He’s such a hardass. Gotta go. He’s coming to confiscate my phone now. Kbyeee.
“Now she’s getting her phone taken away,” I say in exasperation. “Unbelievable. I’m pretty sure Coach Long hates her.”