“We’re doing just fine, Derek. We’ve built a good life here.”
Another pause. “That beach town, right? Seaside? Sandpoint?”
“Seaview Harbor.” Her tone sharpened.
“Right. Look, I’ve been thinking maybe I should come down. Visit Gabe for a weekend. He’s still my son, Claire.”
Claire's grip on the phone tightened. Since when had Derek ever truly wanted to be involved? He had never shown much interest in Gabe beyond the obligatory calls and occasional gifts. So why now? What had changed? The question gnawed at her, making her distrustful of his sudden determination to play the father role.
She still remembered Gabe’s seventh birthday—Derek had promised he’d fly in, even picked the restaurant for their small celebration. Gabe had waited by the window with a handmade card in his hand, eyes darting to every passing car. But Derek never showed. No call. No apology. Just silence. That night, Claire had held her son until he fell asleep, his card still clutched in one small fist. She had promised herself she’d never let Derek hurt him like that again.
Her chest squeezed. She didn’t want to shut Derek out of Gabe’s life. But she knew from experience that promises from Derek were more smoke than fire. And she wouldn’t let that instability unravel the progress they’d made.
“Let me think about it,” she said, keeping her voice calm even as her heart picked up speed. “And talk to Gabe.”
“I deserve more than that,” he snapped, entitlement creeping in like it always had—unearned, sharp, and familiar.
“No,” Claire said, calm and resolute. “You deserve what Gabe is comfortable with. And what’s healthy for him. I’ll be in touch.”
She ended the call before he could respond, her fingers gripping the phone tighter than she realized. A rush of emotions tangled inside her—frustration, relief, and the lingering sting of old wounds. Derek had never prioritized Gabe before, so why now? What had changed? The thought unsettled her, but she pushed it aside. She wasn’t going to let him disrupt the peace she had built here.
“Who was that?” Gabe asked between bites.
Claire took a deep breath, crouched beside him, and smoothed his hair. “Your dad. He wants to visit. I told him we’d talk about it together, okay?”
Gabe paused, chewing slowly. “I don’t really miss him.”
“I know,” she said gently. “But if you ever want to talk to him, you can. No pressure. Just your choice.”
He nodded, then reached for the syrup. “Okay.”
Claire stood again, eyes drifting toward the open window. She wasn’t going to let her past dictate her future—not anymore. A year ago, she wouldn’t have had the strength to stand her ground against Derek. She would have second-guessed herself, wondering if she was being too harsh, too stubborn. But she wasn’t that woman anymore. Seaview had changed her. She had changed herself.
Here, she had found confidence, a voice that wasn’t overshadowed by someone else’s opinions. She had carved out a life where she and Gabe could thrive, and no one—not even Derek—was going to take that away from her.
Too many times, Derek had made decisions for her—choosing which job offer she should take, which city they should move to, even what kind of birthday party Gabe should have—leaving her feeling powerless and unheard. From the house they bought to how she should handle motherhood, he had always taken the lead, convincing her that his way was best. But here, now, she was the one in control. She had built this life for herself and Gabe, and no one—not even Derek—was going to shake that foundation.
Her gaze landed on the small stack of mail on the counter. She flipped through it absently, skimming past a few bills, a glossy advertisement for a local seafood festival, and a handwritten card from her neighbor. She paused, running her thumb over the neat cursive. It was a simple note—just a reminder about a community potluck—but it warmed her.
A year ago, she had felt invisible, barely a part of the world around her. Now, she was building something real, rooted. She set the card aside with a small smile before continuing through the stack. Then, one envelope caught her attention. Seaview Elementary. Her stomach fluttered as she tore it open.
A reminder about the upcoming parent engagement event next week. Her eyes scanned the letter, lingering on the phrase: “We encourage parental figures and mentors to participate.” Her breath caught, just slightly. That one sentence held more weight than she’d expected, stirring a quiet hope she hadn’t dared name yet. Was Jack becoming that kind of presence in their lives?
Claire looked at Gabe, still contentedly chewing, then out the window toward the Montgomery house just beyond the trees. The breeze stirred the curtains slightly, and for a moment, she imagined Jack stepping onto his porch with that half-smile of his, coffee in hand, unaware of how many quiet ways he’d already become part of their days.
She hesitated, biting her lip. Would Jack think this was too much? Would he see it as an invitation into something more serious than he was ready for? The thought gave her pause, but then she reminded herself—Jack had been opening up, taking small steps forward. Maybe this was just another one of those steps, for both of them.
Jack.
She thought of his tenderness with Chloe, the way he had listened—really listened—to her at dinner. The way he made both children laugh with stories of his Southern childhood, told in his slow drawl that turned mundane memories into magic.
Maybe it was time. Not a leap forward, just another step.
She pulled her phone from her pocket again and typed out a quick message.
Hey. Just got a note about a school event next week for Gabe. Would you want to come with us? No pressure. Just thought it might be… nice.
Her finger hovered over the send button, her breath catching as she replayed their recent conversation in her mind—the warmth in his voice, the unguarded way he’d looked at her, like maybe he wanted more, too.
