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Or maybe that was just me.

You’re your father’s son,Mom used to say.

“Dad,” Remy said. “Mom texted, okay? She asked if we were going to be north of downtown and said it might be easier for you if she picked us up here… I told her we were here and—”

My chest twisted. My sixteen-year-old was being more mature than I was. Jill was right—I didn’t have any claim over Antonio’s. Never mind that it was where we used to go—she likely had just as many fond memories of the place for its atmosphere and food as I did.

I held my hands up. “Fine,” I said. “It’s fine. I’m sorry, okay? I’m just… I want to spend every last hour with the girls before I have to pass them over.”

“You’ll get them next year,” Jill said. “Besides,” she said, sticking a stiff smile on her face, “I heard you’re seeing someone? You’ll have all kinds of free time for that.”

I pinned my eyes on Remy, anger flaring. “Who haven’t you told about Michelle?” I asked.

Remy’s eyes went wide, a smile twitching on her lips before I realized what I’d just said. I’d named Michelle in the context of seeing someone.

We weren’t seeing each other and to say that now felt like a cruel joke after everything that had happened. But Remy looked so bright-eyed, so pleased, I shut it again, the anger falling back just slightly. Seeing her happy like that… It wasn't like she was a miserable kid, but her main emotion seemed to be drama with all the shit she was going through with Draco.

Her phone buzzed in her hand. Speak of the goddamned devil. I wished I could grab the phone from her and yell at him to never call again. But Remy would never forgive me. And the thing was, he wasn’t even a terrible kid. They were both just addicted to the drama.

I promised myself I would never tell my kids I knew better than them about their own lives. I knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of that all too well. So as long as Remy wasn’t in any kind of real danger, I had to let her make her own choices.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t guide her to the right ones.

“Yes,” I blurted. “I am seeing someone. And she’s great. She doesn’t call me during family dinners and break up with me every other weekend.”

Remy shot me a look. “I break up withhimevery other weekend.”

“Remy, you’re only with him because you don’t know any different.” I snapped.

Remy pulled her face back, blinking.

“Shit,” I said, pinching my nose.

I could feel Jill’s eyes on me. Was this what I needed to hear years ago? When I knew things weren’t working with Jill?

Gareth chuckled. “Ah, young love.”

The three of us all glared at him in unison. The smile fell off his face.

“Maybe, in this case, your dad might be right,” Jill said, her voice on the edge of trembling.

“Jill—” I said.

But she shook her head, straightened up, and linked her arm through Gareth’s elbow. “Come on. Let’s go back downtown. There’s a lovely bistro downtown I’ve been dying to try.” To me, she said, “We’ll meet you where we originally planned.”

“Fine by me,” I said. “Come on, Remy,” I said. “Our food’s probably cold by now.”

As we walked back inside the restaurant, I swallowed down the sharp prickle of nerves in my throat. Why had I done that?

Michelle’s voice rang in my head.Just a couple of dates.

“So, youareseeing Michelle?” Remy asked, her voice stiff as I pulled open the door to the restaurant.

We definitely weren’t. But we could be. Not for real, but enough to show Remy that things could be different. That seeing new people could make a miserable old jerk happy.

Even if it was just pretend.

“It’s complicated,” I said. I didn’t even know if Michelle would take my calls let alone see me. But the thought of seeing her once more, of being in her presence and feeling even a fraction of that feeling I got around her—it felt like something. A stick of something I could hold onto, even for a moment, while I floated in a vast and icy ocean.