Page 60
Story: Three Reckless Words
She’s someone I figured out I don’t need around after enough grief. Especially now, when I’m dealing with whatever mess Winnie and her family are about to bring crashing down on my head.
“This is so formal,” Rina says after a moment. She taps her fingers against the white leather. She’s nervous, being here after so long, I realize.
That figures, seeing as she’s ghosted for so long.
What I really want to do is chew her up and spit her out like bad bread. Not to mention give her the hell she deserves for checking out of Colt’s life before I send her packing.
Preferably without a check or whatever she’s angling for now, but if it speeds this shit up, I’ll bribe her.
Only, with Colt sitting beside me, I remember we’re his parents. Rina’s his mother forever, no matter how much I regret our relationship.
“Okay,” I say, spreading my hands across my knees. “Are you really back in town for Colt, Ri?” The nickname falls off my lips accidentally.
I curse myself. Fucking bad habits.
After so long, you’d think they’d slough off like dead skin.
She blinks, maybe at the nickname, but recovers quickly. “Yes, I am. You don’t sound convinced.”
“Not the point,” I mutter, shaking my head. I inhale slowly. Here goes. “If you’re looking to spend time with your son, we can figure something out. As long as Colt agrees.”
Her eyes flick to Colton, who squirms uncomfortably.
“Course I want to, Mom,” he says. “That’s cool with you, right, Dad?”
“Sure, sure. I just need to know it in advance, and it needs to be planned. Can’t have anything disrupting your schoolwork.”I aim a sharp look at Rina. “Colt has a busy summer. Another accelerated class for college prep.”
“That’s my little genius,” Rina says quickly. She smiles, hands working on her lap, subtly stroking her fingers in this nervous tic she’s always had. “We can pull something together ahead of time. Most of my weekends are free.”
Colt smiles shyly.
I take a deep breath. This is what being a divorced parent really means. Letting your boy spend time with his deadbeat mom because it makes him happy.
“What are you up to now, hon? More chemistry?” Rina blinks happily.
“It’s just summer school, Mom,” he offers. “For math.”
“A calculus course through a local university,” I tell her. “If he completes the class with a C or better, he gets college credit. It’s Colt, so he’ll get it.”
As long as he isn’t distracted with any stupid goddamned drama you’ve towed here,I don’t add, though I’m thinking about it.
“Oh, hey, that’s awesome.” Rina gives me a startled look. I force a smile to reassure her it’s a good thing. “Nice one, kiddo! Guess you inherited your dad’s brains for numbers.”
I hate the way she sounds so surprised.
If she bothered reading one damn report card I email her every few months, she’d know exactly how gifted he is.
Colt glances at me mischievously. “Grandma says I’m smarter than Dad was.”
“That’s because I was part troublemaker. You’re not doing that,” I growl, ruffling his hair. “There was a time when my folks thought I’d never graduate.”
“Wasn’t Uncle Pat worse?”
“Uncle Pat was the youngest, so he had to make a choice between being the hardest working—which Uncle Dex had inthe bag—or being the brat.” And obviously, he chose the easier route.
Until he wound up with an instant wife and kid, along with the scare of his life, I would’ve said he was destined to continue being a little punk forever.
It’s weird to think how we all wound up here.
“This is so formal,” Rina says after a moment. She taps her fingers against the white leather. She’s nervous, being here after so long, I realize.
That figures, seeing as she’s ghosted for so long.
What I really want to do is chew her up and spit her out like bad bread. Not to mention give her the hell she deserves for checking out of Colt’s life before I send her packing.
Preferably without a check or whatever she’s angling for now, but if it speeds this shit up, I’ll bribe her.
Only, with Colt sitting beside me, I remember we’re his parents. Rina’s his mother forever, no matter how much I regret our relationship.
“Okay,” I say, spreading my hands across my knees. “Are you really back in town for Colt, Ri?” The nickname falls off my lips accidentally.
I curse myself. Fucking bad habits.
After so long, you’d think they’d slough off like dead skin.
She blinks, maybe at the nickname, but recovers quickly. “Yes, I am. You don’t sound convinced.”
“Not the point,” I mutter, shaking my head. I inhale slowly. Here goes. “If you’re looking to spend time with your son, we can figure something out. As long as Colt agrees.”
Her eyes flick to Colton, who squirms uncomfortably.
“Course I want to, Mom,” he says. “That’s cool with you, right, Dad?”
“Sure, sure. I just need to know it in advance, and it needs to be planned. Can’t have anything disrupting your schoolwork.”I aim a sharp look at Rina. “Colt has a busy summer. Another accelerated class for college prep.”
“That’s my little genius,” Rina says quickly. She smiles, hands working on her lap, subtly stroking her fingers in this nervous tic she’s always had. “We can pull something together ahead of time. Most of my weekends are free.”
Colt smiles shyly.
I take a deep breath. This is what being a divorced parent really means. Letting your boy spend time with his deadbeat mom because it makes him happy.
“What are you up to now, hon? More chemistry?” Rina blinks happily.
“It’s just summer school, Mom,” he offers. “For math.”
“A calculus course through a local university,” I tell her. “If he completes the class with a C or better, he gets college credit. It’s Colt, so he’ll get it.”
As long as he isn’t distracted with any stupid goddamned drama you’ve towed here,I don’t add, though I’m thinking about it.
“Oh, hey, that’s awesome.” Rina gives me a startled look. I force a smile to reassure her it’s a good thing. “Nice one, kiddo! Guess you inherited your dad’s brains for numbers.”
I hate the way she sounds so surprised.
If she bothered reading one damn report card I email her every few months, she’d know exactly how gifted he is.
Colt glances at me mischievously. “Grandma says I’m smarter than Dad was.”
“That’s because I was part troublemaker. You’re not doing that,” I growl, ruffling his hair. “There was a time when my folks thought I’d never graduate.”
“Wasn’t Uncle Pat worse?”
“Uncle Pat was the youngest, so he had to make a choice between being the hardest working—which Uncle Dex had inthe bag—or being the brat.” And obviously, he chose the easier route.
Until he wound up with an instant wife and kid, along with the scare of his life, I would’ve said he was destined to continue being a little punk forever.
It’s weird to think how we all wound up here.
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