Patrick swings the door open, his face pulled tight.
“Oh, thank god it’s you. I have to leave ASAP if I want to make my lunch meeting.”
“Should have thought about that more than an hour ago, Patrick,” I remind him not-so-gently.
He huffs. “It was a calendar mistake, okay? It’s not my fault.”
He means it’s his secretary’s.
A part of me wondered if he was sleeping with her when we were together, but honestly, by the time we got divorced, I didn’t care anymore. We might have been married on paper, but we hadn’t been married for a long time when we ended things.
“Your son ready?”
“Oh, so now he’s my son, huh?” He grins at me, and for a moment I see the boy I fell for at sixteen. But as quickly as he appears, he’s gone again. “Sammy!” he hollers up the stairs. “Mom’s here!”
“Coming!” he calls back.
Patrick turns to me and sighs. “Look, sorry. I didn’t want to cut our weekend short, but this meeting is important. I can’t miss it or my dad will have my ass.”
I nod, having known his apology was coming before he even started. It’s what he does. “It’s fine.”
It’s not, but we’ll talk about it later when Sam’s not lurking around the corner.
“Where’s your car?” he asks, realizing my little Honda isn’t in the driveway.
“Flat tire. I got a ride from a friend.”
He slides his eyes past me toward where Nolan’s parked on the curb.
“That the roommate Sammy told me about?”
I glance over my shoulder, peeking back at Nolan, who’s watching us with curious eyes.
He looks ready to pounce out of the truck at any moment, and I appreciate that he’s there to have my back if I need it.
Though Patrick can be a dick at times, Nolan doesn’t need to worry. I can handle him myself.
“Yep.”
“You didn’t tell me you were moving in with some guy, Maya.” He doesn’t sound jealous—probably because he knows better—but he does sound worried.
“It’s just temporary,” I explain. “I’m waiting on a new-build apartment to open up leasing.”
“I wish you would have come to me before you moved in with a stranger.”
“That’s not your job anymore, Patrick.”
His mouth opens like he wants to argue that point, then he snaps it back closed with a nod, realizing it’s moot.
“Besides,” I continue, “Nolan isn’t a stranger. He’s best friends with River’s boyfriend.”
“Ah, yes. Mr. Evans.” He clears his throat. “He’s, like, the coolest teacher ever, Dad,” he mocks in Sam’s high-pitched puberty whine.
I laugh. “Yep, the one and only.”
“Do you think Sammy likes him more than me?”
“Shit, I think he likes him more than me, and we both know I’m the favorite parent.”
There’s the briefest flash of hurt in Patrick’s eyes, and I wonder for a moment if there’s something he’s not telling me. It vanishes just as fast though, and he laughs at my joke.
He clears his throat. “You really should get a house, you know. Apartment living is for the birds, and the market isn’t awful right now. I bet you could find something on your budget.”
He doesn’t mean for the words to sting, but they do anyway.
“I’m fine with apartment living for now, thank you.” I’m not, but I don’t want him to know that. “It’s nice to see you still worry about me.”
“You’re the mother of my favorite son. I’ll always worry about you.”
“Hey! I’m your only son,” Sam says, ambling down the stairs, carrying much more than he came here with.
My first instinct is to scold Patrick for buying him so much stuff, but it’s another conversation for another time.
“You ready?” I ask him, reaching for a bag so he can hug his dad.
“Yep.”
“I’m heading out now, too,” Patrick says, grabbing his briefcase from the spot by the door where he always keeps it and following us onto the porch.
I look away as Patrick wraps him in a hug, letting them have this moment together.
As much as I wish Patrick would put his phone down or make his time with Sam a priority a little more often, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that he loves his son more than anything in the world.
One of the few times I’ve seen him cry was when I asked for a divorce. It wasn’t because our marriage was ending, but because he was scared I would take Sam away from him.
He never had to worry about that though.
“See you later, Sammy,” he says, then he leans toward me