Page 10 of Better Daddy

Across the street, is no better. The façade of the bar across the way has seen better days, the sign tilted to the side. It’s the place Sully and I took Murphy, Cal’s son, and T.J. the night we got into this whole mess, so I know, despite its outward appearance, that the food is incredible.

I point there. “The Grasshopper?”

Lo looks both ways, then guides me across the street.

Inside, we settle at the long oak bar. It’s smoother and glossier than it was a few weeks ago, like it’s got a fresh coat of lacquer. The man on the other side is wearing an Irish cap and a friendly smile. “What can I get you ladies?”

God, what I would do for a martini right now. Or a shot. A shot would definitely help. A little Irish whiskey, maybe.

On second thought, that’s a terrible idea. Irish whiskey is what got me here in the first place. It’s what we drank twenty minutes before we walked into city hall and got married. We had it again the night we created this baby. While the boys played on the old Pac-Man machine, Sully settled beside me at the bar and ordered two Irish whiskeys. When he slid mine toward me, his blue eyes held mine as he repeated the words he said to me on our wedding day. “A thousand todays with you will never be enough, sweetheart.”

The words were achingly sweet. They hit the same that night asthey did all those years ago. When we were young and so carefree. They’re words he used to murmur when he was feeling extra romantic. Sometimes, right before he slid inside me, he’d whisper them between kisses. They hit just right every time. They never felt cliché because he meant them wholeheartedly. And I felt the same way. When we were good, there wasn’t another person in the world who could catch my attention. He couldn’t be lured away either. At least not by another person. In the end, what stole him from me was his job.

His dedication to the firm.

“I’ll take an iced tea,” I say to the bartender, trying to forget Sully’s words and all the emotions they drag to the surface.

Lo settles on the stool beside me. “Make that two.”

“I know what you’re going to say,” I murmur as the bartender saunters toward the stack of clean glasses.

It’s obvious where her allegiance lies. Yes, she’s my friend, but she loves the firm. It’s her home, and she’s working her ass off to save it. Plus, she’s in love with Cal. I’m not naïve enough to think our friendship could trump all that.

Everyone has always put that firm first.

She turns on her stool and faces me. Despite the stress radiating off her, she’s glowing. I’m happy for her. It’s tempting to fall in line and do what I know she’ll ask just to keep her this happy.

But I can’t keep putting myself last. It’s time to choose me. To live my own life. It’s why I asked for the divorce. And if I can break my own heart to chase my dreams, then I can figure out a way to let Lo down easy.

“I’m not going to say anything. I just wanted to sit with you.”

“You’re not here to talk me into moving in to that dump now that I’m carrying a Murphy heir in my womb?”

Lo’s lips twitch. “If you’d heard Madame E going on about the incubator, you would be laughing too. She’s eerily accurate.”

I sigh.

Lo puts her hand on mine. “Seriously, she told Terry to be carefulof Ginger. Wanna know the name of the woman he was with when he died?”

I shrug.

Her eyes dance. “Ginger.”

My mouth falls open.

“She told Cal he needed fins, hence the fish. Then she told me I’d need ten to replace all of them. It’s been two weeks since the sixth died, but Bubbles the Seventh is holding on strong.”

I snort. Okay, that is funny.

“My point is, I know that Sully sounded like an ass?—”

I glare at her.

Her green eyes flash with humor. “Okay, he absolutely is an ass most of the time.”

My muscles relax a fraction. It’s good to know I’m not the only one who sees it.

“But he was probably just thrown off because he hasn’t believed a single of Madame E’s predictions. He thinks she’s ridiculous. Yet today, you showed up and proved her right.”