Bridget shrugged her shoulders. “He’s basically the entire package, and you are throwing it away because you’re being stubborn.” She looked out the kitchen window that still had no screen on it and the lock didn’t work right, but there was nothing there for her to stare at. Still, she stretched onto her toes to peer around the corner.
“He has a daughter.” I pictured the little girl and her blonde curls standing next to the bed, and a fresh wave of guilt filled me. I reached for the open bottle of wine in hopes of chasing away some of it.
“So?” Bridget took the bottle from me, pouring a smaller glass than I would have and then pouring one for herself.
I picked up the wineglass, taking a large swig followed by a deep breath. “So I don’t want to be a mom.”
“You’renota mom.” She looked at me matter-of-factly and impatiently, like she was still waiting for me to come up with a reason that she would accept for me to not go out with Miles again.
I sighed. “I know I’m not, but he comes with a daughter!” I shouted at her like it would make her understand that there was no way I was getting myself involved with a man who had a daughter that was old enough to remember who I was when I stopped coming around.
“You’re not marrying him!” Bridget threw her hands in the air like she had when we’d argued as kids and I didn’t take her side. “It’s dinner. You’re going out for dinner and then probablyfucking his brains out again. Just like… make sure you wrap it or whatever.” She giggled to herself when I groaned.
“It never stays that casual, and you know that.”
“Why is it such a big deal?” She softened her voice, sounding gentler when she continued. “I just don’t get it.” She swirled the dark red liquid around her glass. I didn’t expect her to get it—she’d practically lived in a fairy tale her entire life. No matter what it was, she would find the happily ever after in it. That’s just who she was.
This wasn’t going to be one of those instances. I sighed. “I don’t want kids, and I’m not getting involved and somehow replacing a man’s dead wife because I’ll never compare to the mother of his child. I can’t compete with a woman he loves when she’s not even around anymore. It never works out for the new girl. I’m just going to get hurt.”
Chapter 9
Miles
“Comeon,Daddy! I don’t want to belate!”Maddie dragged the words out, tugging as hard as she could on my hand to pull me across the parking lot.
“I’m right here,” I said, keeping the same pace, even when she stopped walking to whine. She was nearly vibrating—heradrenaline hung in the air around her like static. “You’re not going to be late.”
Maddie huffed, skipping ahead of me a few steps and rushing back to tug on my hand again. “But I want to beearly!”
A smile stretched across her cheeks, making most of her face disappear behind her excitement. When I opened the door to the dance studio, Maddie squealed, and my chest tightened when she spun in a circle before she went in. I had never seen her get quite this excited before starting a new activity, and most of the time she was ready to quit and try something new within a few months. Would this be different?
“Are you coming?” she asked, her annoyance drawing attention in our direction from moms walking in with their daughters. They gave the same look I always seemed to get—one that started with judgment and quickly turned to admiration when they realized Maddie’s mother wasn’t with me.
“Right behind you, sweetheart.” I nodded at a couple of the women who continued to stare when we walked past them. I was used to it.
Maddie skipped right onto the padded dance floor and over to a couple of women in leotards that stood off to the side. “Hi!” she squealed excitedly to get their attention. The woman turned around, and I chuckled when Harper’s eyes widened.
“Hi there,” she said, looking quickly past me and down to Maddie. “You must be one of our new ballerinas!”
Maddie put her hands on the pink leotard she wore like it answered the question before she nodded. “Yup!” She looked up at me and then back to Harper before crinkling her nose with slight recognition.
“So you’re a dance coach.” I chuckled, picturing Harper tripping over stairs and produce stands. I thought dancers were more graceful than that.
Harper gulped, looking from the side of her eye at the other coach that was slowly starting to pay more attention to the exchange. “I am. I’m Harper.” She stuck her hand out, wincing when I furrowed my brow. Then she put her hand back at her side. “And this is Kelly.” Her teammate looked at her funny.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, shaking Kelly’s hand. “I’m Miles. Maddie’s dad.”And Harper’s next-door neighbor.
“Oh!” Maddie said, clapping her hands together in realization. “You’re daddy’s friend from the other day!”
“What?” Harper asked while her cheeks started to turn a darker shade of pink.
Maddie giggled and pointed at Harper. “The one in his bed!” When she said it, Harper choked on her breath and started to cough. The pink on her cheeks turned to a deep purple when Kelly’s mouth dropped open. I put my hand on top of her head and shushed her quietly, but Maddie beamed at me like she was proud of herself for recognizing Harper.She certainly isn’t forgettable.
“Oh, really?” Kelly stepped forward, looking first at Harper then at me and back to Harper with what resembled approval. “Hey, Maddie, why don’t we go over here, and I’ll get you all set up with all the other ballerinas?” Maddie nodded excitedly, grabbing her hand and following her. The look on Harper’s face made me think she wished she was skipping away too.
“I didn’t know you were the coach,” I said, hoping to ease some of the embarrassment.
Harper shrugged. “Well, I am.” She vaguely gestured around the dance studio like it was further explanation.
