Leaning down, I give her a hard hug and whisper, “Thank you. I’ll be back before Felicity gets up.”
In the living room, I tell Felicity I’m getting ready to go to the game. I don’t tell her I’m staying at Jett’s as she’ll be asleep long before the game is over and I’ll be back before she wakes up. It’s not that she’s too young to understand such things, but it will take a very transparent—but age-appropriate as Nora says—conversation with her about it and my strong feelings toward Jett.
It’s a conversation that will not be done now, in front of Shane.
Felicity bounds up, gives me a hard hug, and then plops back down on the floor, demanding her father do another card trick.
Rather than indulge her, Shane actually pushes up from the floor and asks, “Can I talk to you in private before you leave?”
My eyes drift to the clock on the kitchen wall and I hate that I actually have time. “Sure.”
He follows me to the front door and we step out onto the porch. I turn to face him and can immediately tell he’s nervous. He clasps his hands before his stomach, slightly wringing them.
“Listen… I’d like to be able to take Felicity some places, and I don’t appreciate Jenna hanging over us while I play with my daughter. It’s insulting and I don’t need a babysitter.”
My rebuke comes sharp and fast. “Oh, but you do, Shane. You’ve been here a total of one week, but you were gone for two years. Excuse me if you have to build some trust.”
“I was in rehab,” he points out reasonably.
“Not for the entire two years,” I snap at him. “You weren’t in rehab for even most of those two years.”
That shuts him up and he heaves a sigh. In a low, contrite voice, he says, “I know. You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” I say, not really accepting his apology because I don’t trust it.
I turn to move down the porch steps, but he stops me by saying, “Felicity says you’re seeing someone named Jett. It wasn’t hard to figure out he’s a player for the Vengeance.”
I only half-turn to look at him, my voice smooth as silk. “That’s none of your business, Shane.”
“Is it serious?” he asks, ignoring my boundaries.
I decide to tell him some truth, because I don’t want him badgering. “It’s not casual.”
In fact, it’s way not casual. It’s becoming more serious as each day passes. This past week alone, I feel like we’ve grown immeasurably closer. We haven’t been able to see each other a lot with his game schedule, which included a road trip, but we managed to sneak in dinner one night, and a quick lunch in my office.
When he was on the road, we were in constant contact—mostly by text—but there were chunks of time we were able to steal where we could talk.
And the conversations went deep. We were way past wanting to know each other’s favorite movie, and instead we talked about dreams and aspirations. Hell, I even told my parents about him and they were beyond thrilled that I’ve put myself out there for the potential of “love” again. I didn’t comment on the L word but I’m glad that me dating again makes them happy.
I didn’t get to see him much and every conversation had me missing him more. The fact that I’m incredibly excited about staying the night at his house tells me I miss the sexual intimacy too.
“So you’d never consider—”
Those few words jolt me out of my lovely memories of Jett and this past week, and I immediately know where he’s going. I stop it fast. “If you’re going to ask if I’d ever consider giving you a chance again, the answer is unequivocally ‘no’.”
“Not very forgiving,” he mutters morosely.
“Shane,” I say in a tired voice, and it’s tired because I’ve been on this merry go round with him many times before. “I forgave you time and time again. Months and months and months of ups and downs, highs and soberness, verbal abuse, neglect of Felicity… every time you went to rehab, I forgave you. I encouraged you. I stood by your side, especially when others told me to leave. And I’m sorry Shane, but there came a time I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror anymore and see a woman who was doing best by her child.”
His tone is accusing. “So you thought it was best for Felicity to divorce me?”
“Fuck yes it was best,” I growl at him. “While I wanted her to see a woman who was willing to care, be supportive and forgiving, I didn’t want her to see her mother stay in an abusive, loveless marriage.”
“I loved you,” he whines. “And you left me.”
My tone gentles, but I’m seething inside that we’re even having this conversation. “But I didn’t love you anymore; not after all the hurt you caused us. And Felicity needed to see that you don’t stay in an unhealthy situation. You make yourself strong and you move on to better things. I had a duty to teach her that and I don’t regret a thing.”
Shane holds his hands up as if he’s surrendering. “Okay, okay. I get it. I’m a loser and I never should have expected you to uphold the vows of for better or for worse.”
“Seriously?” I ask him in frustration. And because I’m so astounded he’d even go there, all I can do is repeat, “Seriously?”
“I’m just saying—”
“Good night, Shane,” I say firmly as I give him my back, moving quickly down the steps.
“Wait,” he says beseechingly, and something about his tone makes me stop. He’s out of his pity party, I can tell.
I glance back at him.
“I’m really sorry,” he says and I can tell he’s being genuine. I know all the various facets of Shane Kelly enough that I can hear truth in his voice. “That was way overboard and you didn’t deserve that. I guess I’m feeling sorry for myself for the things I lost, but I also know that’s all my fault. Not yours.”
I hesitate a moment before nodding. “Thank you.”
“Just bear with me, Emory.” His tone is soft and contrite. “I’m trying my best.”
“I’m glad you are,” I commend him. It’s all I can say because I don’t know what his best is anymore, but his apology is heartfelt and it means a lot. Throwing my thumb toward the driveway, I say, “I have to get going.”
“Yeah, sure,” he says with a genial smile as he starts to reach for the door and then turns back to me. “Um… Felicity said she’s going horseback riding tomorrow and had also told me that she used to take lessons. I’d really love to see her on a horse.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, heavily lacing my words with an apology I don’t really feel but I try to keep the peace. “But this is a private invite to a friend’s house and…”
My words drift off, my heart telling me to only speak the truth to Shane. I cannot be vague about where he stands in the life I’ve built with my daughter, because, for the most part, it’s going to be separate from any life he might have with her.
“No wait,” I say, correcting myself. “It is a private invite, but that’s not why you can’t come. You can’t come because I don’t want you to come.”