TAKE TWO_ Who says you can't ma - Heather M. Orgeron Page 0,3

know her wish won’t come true. I fucked up any chance of that years ago.

“Don’t say it,” Hannah, Nya’s best friend, orders, worry creasing her brow. “Or it won’t come true.” Good old Hannah. Always trying to put out fires before they start.

“It won’t anyway,” Ellie pouts, looking just like the toddler I like to pretend she still is, before she catches a wave of prepubescence and gives her Auntie an eye roll to rival that pale chick from The Exorcist.

“What?” Nya’s face jerks back in surprise. “How do you know that?” She runs a hand through our daughter’s long dark hair, the same shade as hers, and leans over her shoulder, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Cuz. I wish for the same thing every single year, and it never happens.”

“Oh.” My clueless ex-wife’s face falls. “Well, maybe just this one time, you can tell us, and we can help to make it come true?” Her big doe eyes find mine, brimming with concern for her little princess. She nods to me for approval, which I swiftly provide. Far be it from me to be the one to stop this train wreck.

“Don’t make promis—” Hannah starts to warn her best friend off before my eyes catch hers and I shake my head. She clears her throat, holding her hands up in resignation. “Go ‘head, El.”

“Okay…” Ellie starts, nibbling her thumb nail nervously as she fixes her stare on the tile floor. “I wished for you and Daddy to get married and for us to be a real family… like we were when I was a baby.”

Nya’s legs buckle, so I hold her a little tighter. For stability, of course. “Th—that’s your w—wish?”

“It’s stupid,” Ellie mutters, crossing her arms protectively over her heart. “That’s why I didn’t wanna say it.”

“It’s not stupid,” I assure her, my stomach twisting up into a huge knot. I don’t miss the pained look on Nya’s speechless face as I release my hold on her and our daughter lunges herself into my arms, sniffling into the crook of my neck.

“N-not all families look the same, Ellie,” my ex explains while rubbing circles on her back. “We’re still a family even if we don’t all live in the same house.”

My daughter stiffens at her words, schooling her features. “I know, Mom, but it’s not the same.”

Nya has worked really hard to make sure Ellie has been raised with two parents. Her guilt over being the one to initiate our divorce has always eaten at her. As hard as it is to be around Nya. To want her and never be able to act on it. To sit at the same fucking table with her and now her new boyfriend, Ryder. I’m here every holiday. Every birthday. Hell, every Sunday for family dinner. It’s as close to a two-parent home as we could give her without actually being together, but Ellie’s right, it’s not the same thing. Nowhere near it.

“Sometimes relationships don’t work out, baby. Some people just aren’t meant to be—” at that I tune her out, because I will never believe Nya and I aren’t meant to be together. I wouldn’t still want her so badly after all these years if that were the case.

“She’s gonna be okay, right?” Nya asks as she slinks back into the room after tucking Ellie into bed, looking positively defeated. She swiftly takes the procured glass of wine from Hannah before plopping into the chair across from mine for what has become a routine Sunday night card game.

“Sure.” I nod before taking a pull from my beer. It’s hard to keep the mood light, but the last thing this woman needs is me acting like a petulant child. She’s well aware of how much I still want to be with her. From the day we split, I’ve made that no secret.

“I mean,” she adds, fanning her cards in front of her face and arranging them in her hand. “We’re doing the right thing…right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Hannah agrees, while I practically bite my tongue off. “You’re great parents. Don’t ever doubt that. Tons of kids grow up in broken homes these days and most of them turn out just fine.”

Ouch. Probably not the best way to support her endorsement. Internally I cringe as Nya balks at her words.

Drinks are flowing more heavily tonight than usual as we play a few rounds of poker. I’m thankful for the empty chair that Ryder’s occupied the past couple of months when Nya makes me an