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“Hey! If I come, can you ask Row about giving me that loa—”
But it was too late.
I’d already hung up.
DYLAN
Five hours and three vomit bouts from Grav later, Tucker arrived, and he looked none too pleased about it. The only ray of sunshine in this entire crap-a-licious day was that my daughter was probably done puking, and I’d managed to get some chicken noodle soup into her.
“Yo.”
Yo? Was he twelve?
I stepped sideways to let him in.
He peered around, spotted our daughter on the couch, and approached her with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. My breath caught in the back of my throat when he crouched down and tapped her knee.
“Hey, buddy. Heard you aren’t feeling too well. Care for some company?”
Well, this wasn’t that bad at all. I released the trapped air in my lungs.
Gravity nodded. “Can we draw a little bit?”
“Sure. Yeah.” Tucker looked about him.
Something clenched behind my rib cage.
“I…I’ll go get the colors and the paper.” I cleared my throat, making myself useful and trekking over to her room.
As I gathered the washable crayons and paper, I allowed myself to hope Tucker was finally turning a corner. I’d figure out the logistics of staying in New York and studying here if he stepped up. I’d plan my entire existence around Grav’s happiness.
I gave them the colors and got started on cleaning the apartment. Every now and then, I checked in on them. They were doing surprisingly well together. First, they drew. Then, Tucker helped her color in her drawing. They made M&M cookies together (with prepared dough) and consumed the sticky rice and chicken nugget lunch I made for them without complaint.
When it was time for me to go downstairs for some groceries, I was torn. On the one hand, they seemed to be getting along fine. On the other, he was still…Tucker. Rhy was right to ask me about leaving them together. It seemed incredibly premature.
He is literally her father. They share the same DNA. He’s said he wants to be a part of her life countless times. And this is their sixth time hanging out together.
Yeah, Tucker was Tucker, but I didn’t think he would physically hurt her.
What he did to me that night was violence. But he also said it was a mistake. And he’d never used violence against me before. Besides, it was literally going to take me fifteen minutes—I only needed the basics. And Rhyland was in the building if they ran into any issues.
Just make a decision already.
“Grav, why don’t you come with Mommy to get some shopping done? It won’t take more than twenty minutes, and Uncle Tucker will wait for us.” I smiled tightly.
Her head lolled up from the book they were reading, and she looked at me wearily. “Mommy, can’t I just stay here?”
My stomach turned. No, you can’t, I wanted to say. Please come with me.
“Baby, you could use some fresh air,” I said desperately, hating the twang of desperation in my voice.
“Seriously, Dyl, I can take care of her for twenty minutes.” Tucker looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was. And Rhyland did say I needed to let go when it came to Grav.
“It might be a little longer than twenty. I’d just feel more comfortable if—”
“Mommy, I’m too tired to go out.”
“No worries!” I said brightly. “I’ll just Instacart it.”