ask for things, but I’d learned how to say no.
“Not every evening, but once in a while, we can do this.”
She perked up, her eyes wide. “YES!” After a few beats of silence, she added, “Mommy, Gerald isn’t coming back, is he?”
My heart sank. Did Avery miss him?
“No, baby. He’s not.”
“I like it when it’s just the two of us, Mommy.”
I barely resisted the urge to hug the living daylights out of her.
“I like it too, little bug. I like it too. It’s just the two of us now, baby.”
And I’d keep it that way.
After putting Avery to bed, I headed to the kitchen, microwaving popcorn and pouring myself a glass of wine. Dinner of champions. I sat at the round kitchen table, glancing around our new home.
Seven days ago, Gerald called, saying he needed to talk to me about something important. I was in the middle of coordinating movers and ordering furniture and hadn’t stopped to think about what that might be. Honestly, I’d just been happy that he was finally going to be in New York for longer than a few days. He was a tour guide and led groups around the world.
Two days ago, we’d met at the Northern Lights and he’d told me that he wasn’t moving in with us. That he’d met someone on one of his trips. I’d felt as if my brain had short-circuited and I’d forgotten how to breathe.
In retrospect, I should have known he wasn’t going to stick around. He’d never warmed up to the idea of the three of us, but I’d been in love and I’d wanted to offer Avery stability, especially since she didn’t even know her dad. We broke up shortly after I found out I was pregnant. He signed away all rights, because he wasn’t interested in being a parent. Fresh out of college, that had been a very difficult time for me, especially since my parents lived in Arizona. When Gerald had come along two years ago, I’d had stars in my eyes and fallen hook, line, and sinker for him. I’d jumped into the relationship with both feet. From now on, I’d do things differently.
My limbs felt a little lighter after I finished my glass of wine. It was the first break in two days. I hadn’t had time to process anything, because I’d still had to coordinate the rest of the movers and take our things out of the boxes. Mostly, though, I just wanted to block that awful evening out of my brain. Now that I wasn’t elbow-deep in boxes, I couldn’t help rewinding the details. When security had showed up, I’d used the opportunity to dart out of the bar. I’d wanted to do that as soon as I realized Gerald had asked me there to break up. Everyone within earshot had looked at me with pity, and I’d just been so blindsided that I hadn’t even known how to react. What about Avery? The apartment? I’d asked.
None of that is my responsibility.
I couldn’t believe he was just brushing us off like that. I pressed a palm on my stomach to stop feeling the knot in it. I remembered the guy who’d stepped in. A complete stranger had cared enough to ask Gerald to apologize. The longer I rewound the scene in my mind, the antsier I became. Gerald had pushed him. Crap! Was the guy okay? Why hadn’t I thought about this before?
I googled the name of the bar and called them, clasping my phone tightly.
“Northern Lights. How can I help you?” a female voice asked.
“I was wondering... I was at your bar two evenings ago. My ex-boyfriend caused a ruckus. Security stepped in.”
“I remember.”
“A man tried to intervene. My ex pushed him. Do you know if he’s okay?”
“Oh, that was Ryker. He performs here sometimes. He was okay. Nothing some ice couldn’t solve. Beer spilled all over his guitar though.”
Shit. That didn’t sound like he was okay at all.
“I’m so sorry about that. The guitar still works?”
“It was electric, so I’m not sure. He took it to a repair shop.”
Damn, I had to make it up to him. If the guitar needed replacement or repairs, I had to pay for it.
“When is he performing next?”
“Tomorrow. His set starts at eight.”
“Thank you.” I placed the phone back on the table, poured myself another glass of wine. I vaguely remembered the guy: dark blond hair, absolutely gorgeous blue eyes. Hmmm... maybe I was building him up in my mind, with a