Page 111 of False Start

I didn’t have to get close to Marshall to smell the alcohol on his breath.

Red beer. I remembered it well. It was his favorite way to start a morning.

“Marshall, you know you’re not allowed to show up here unannounced. And you sure as hell are not allowed to storm in like you own the place.”

“It was my money that bought it,” he shot back, which made me grit my teeth.

All of it was alwayshis moneywhen we got divorced, as if I did nothing in the marriage but take up oxygen and give him something to hit.

“And it’s my day with Sebastian,” he continued.

“Which means you can pick him up from camp, just like we discussed,” I said, keeping my voice calm and ignoring his attempts to goad me. “But only if you sober up. And I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your voice down.”

“I think I’ll keep it raised. Because in what universe did I agree to letting you have another man around my son?”

I tried to settle myself with a long breath. “Marshall, we are divorced. You do not get to dictate who I spend my time with.”

“But I get to dictate who mysonis around. You’re not going to be some fucking whore with a train of men coming in and out of his life. I’ll—”

Kyle rushed him so fast he was a blur, and then Marshall was being shoved outside onto the front porch.

“Talk to her like that one more time, and you won’t have teeth to form the words,” I heard Kyle threaten as the glass door slammed shut behind them.

But then, I heard a door creak, and I whipped around to find Sebastian peeking out of his door at the end of the hallway.

“Hey, sweetie,” I said, hoping my smile was convincing that everything was okay. I glanced back out at where Marshall and Kyle were obviously in a heated argument on the lawn, but as much as I wanted to know what was being said, I wanted to make sure my son was okay more.

I made my way down the hall to him, and as soon as I made it to his door, Sebastian hugged my legs tight, burying his face in my stomach like he did when he was sick.

Or scared.

I sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Everything is okay,” I promised him.

“I don’t like when Daddy yells at you.”

My eyes shut, and I let out a long breath before replying, “I don’t like it either, baby.”

“Kyle never yells at us.”

Another squeeze of my heart. “No, he doesn’t.”

“He loves you.”

At that, I smirked, dropping down to his level and brushing his hair from his face. “I don’t know about that, but I know he cares about both of us.”

Sebastian nodded, looking down at his sneakers.

“You okay?” I asked him.

He nodded again, but then shook his head. “Sometimes I have a bad thought.”

I frowned. “Well, you can tell Mommy. There’s no judgment here. Remember?”

Sebastian swayed a bit side to side, his eyes on his shoes still, and I thought I heard the front door open and close somewhere behind us.

“Sometimes, I wish Kyle was my dad, instead.”

I covered my mouth, and when Sebastian looked at me, he seemed worried that I was upset. So, quickly, I smiled and grabbed his arms. “It’s okay to wish that,” I assured him. “Butyour dad loves you. And you have fun with him, don’t you? You always love going to his house, and when he takes you to get ice cream, or when he takes you to the cool baseball games downtown.”