Every instinct tells me to turn around and walk out the door, but I can’t. Not with Tate standing right there.
So I force myself to move, closing the distance one slow step at a time. Jules watches me the whole way, her expression hard to read. I wish I knew what she was thinking. If I had to guess, I’d say she looks… guilty.
Does she remember that Sundays used to beourday? That we should be together right now? That instead of sitting across from some random guy, she should be withus?
But the truth hits like a gut punch. I have no right to feel this way.
It’s not her fault. It’s mine.
I let her go. I made the choice that put us here.
If anyone should feel guilty, it’s me.
“Did you know we’d be here?” Tate asks, his voice filled with curiosity.
“No, bud,” Jules answers softly, finally tearing her gaze away from mine. She smooths a hand over his blond hair, an automatic, comforting gesture. “I didn’t.”
Tate shifts his attention to the guy sitting across from her, his little nose scrunching in confusion.
“Who are you?” he asks bluntly.
Before Trey can answer, Jules steps in. “This is Trey. He’s a new friend of mine.”
New.I catch that. It sticks to my ribs like something I can’t quite swallow.
“Nice to meet you,” Trey says, holding out a hand, his expression easy, too damn friendly.
Tate looks at me for guidance, searching my face for an answer. Should he shake it? Ignore him?
“Go on, Tate,” I say, keeping my voice even.
He gives Trey’s hand a quick, disinterested shake before turning back to Jules. “Mommy, why are you here with him?”
Jules licks her lips nervously, avoiding my gaze altogether. “I’m just having dinner with a friend, bud.”
But Trey’s expression says otherwise. The way he watches her—like he’s picturing where this night might lead—makes it painfully obvious thatfriendisn’t the role he’s hoping to play.
I exhale slowly, forcing my shoulders to stay loose. “We should grab our order, bud,” I tell Tate. “Let Mom get back to her dinner.”
Tate’s face falls. “We can’t stay and eat with Mom?”
I shake my head. “Not tonight.”
“You should stay,” Trey says, cutting in.
Jules and I both snap our gazes toward him.
“It’s okay, really,” I reply, even though every part of me is screaming that this isnotokay.
Before I can steer Tate toward the counter, he climbs into an empty chair between Jules and Trey, making himself comfortable.Great.
“Dad,” Tate says, pointing toward the register, “go see if Kona has our pizza ready.”
I click my tongue, forcing a tight smile. “Yeah. I’ll go do that.”
And with that, I turn on my heel, needing a second to breathe before I do something I’ll regret.
I hear Trey firing off a million questions as I make my way over to Kona.
