Guilt flooded her eyes just as the pain became too much for him to bear. He shoved his hands into his pockets and gave a curt nod. Lacey might think this was over, but she’d never actually said as much.
And even if she had, she would have been wrong.
Mack wasn’t going anywhere.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Lacey didn’t sleep.She’d been so utterly restless that she’d ended up spending most of the night pacing in the living room. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get comfortable on the couch, but a couple hours of shut eye wasn’t something to dismiss entirely.
Her mind was in a jumbled mess. She couldn’t focus on what the biggest issue surrounding her was.
She collapsed on the edge of the couch, her head in her hands. After her mother had left yesterday, she kept waiting for a call from her parents. She’d expected her mother to go home and tell her father that she was dating a man who couldn’t be trusted with their grandson and that they needed to intervene.
It didn’t matter that part of her knew she was overreacting. She’d been conditioned to believe that she wasn’t good enough to make these sorts of decisions. And even understanding that on a basic level wasn’t enough to get her heart to stop racing.
Did she believe her parents would report her to Child Protective Services just because she was dating a man who had a sordid past?
No, not dating. We’re not dating anymore.
Lacey shook her head with a groan. And no, she didn’t believe that her parents would stoop to that level. She did, however, believe that they would insert themselves into her life to the point that she’d feel like she was walking on eggshells whenever they were around. She did feel that it would lead to them finding whatever they could to rationalize the need for them to take over raising Bridger again.
And she couldn’t let that happen.
Then there was the whole issue with Mack.
She cared for him. Her heart ached for him. If she could drive over to his house right now and apologize for what she’d said, she would. But there was one big truth staring her in the face.
Mack wasn’t the best choice for Bridger. If it came down to it, Lacey would always choose her son over any other man.
Lacey didn’t realize she’d been crying again, until she felt the dampness in her hands. She lifted her head and groaned again. Why was she crying? It couldn’t be over Mack. She’d been the one to tell him to go. She’d been the one to spew the hateful and judgmental things at him so he would be willing to leave her apartment without a bigger fight.
These tears, they were being shed for the dream she’d allowed herself to have that would no longer be possible. If someone as good as Mack wasn’t going to make the cut, then what possibility of a future did she have? He’d been perfect.
A soft knock sounded at the door, and she startled, her eyes flying to the bedroom door where Bridger still slept. Normally on a weekend, they’d be cuddled in bed for as long as they could get away with. Today she didn’t have to work—thank the stars. Lacey didn’t think she could show up looking like the mess she knew she was.
The knock sounded again, stirring her from her convoluted thoughts. She got to her feet and brushed her face with the back of her hand. Her eyes would still be red and swollen, but at least there wouldn’t be any streaks of tears.
At this rate, the only person who would be on the other side of that door would be Angela. After the whole debacle yesterday with their mother, Lacey had been surprised that Angela hadn’t called or stopped by sooner. Their post-mom venting sessions had become a tradition of sorts.
Lacey pulled the door open. “It’s about time you came—” Her voice died in her throat as she came face to face with Mack. He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look angry like he had last night.
Her heart immediately leaped from her chest, and all she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and tell him not to leave her.
Thankfully, she kept a level head and remained composed. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
His gaze swept over her, and a flicker of concern danced in his eyes. He held up a cup carrier with three drinks and a brown paper sack. “I thought you might like breakfast.” He didn’t wait for her response before he slipped past her and into the apartment.
Lacey spun, gaping. “Mack, you can’t just?—”
He placed the items on the counter and started pulling them out. “I got the kid a chocolate donut with sprinkles. But since I know you’re not into the whole sweets thing at breakfast, I got you a croissant.”
“Mack! You—” she tried again.
The man had the gall to flash her a smile as he held up a croissant and something else. “Then again, Sweet Everything was doing a special, and they have something called a cronut. Can you believe they’re trying to merge two pastries together?”
She moaned with frustration, rubbing her temples with her fingers. “You can’t be here. We’re not dating anymore.”
He didn’t seem to listen to her. “I got you coffee, too. And the kid can have orange juice. I made sure to get the one with less sugar.” Mack winked at her, and that was the final straw.
