Page 19

19

Maya

A fter my talk with Preston about ending things with Christian, and a whole lot of tears, I’m ready to move forward. To try to move on with my life after being frozen in time for nearly six years. I want to be more than a mother and I need more than Christian can give me, even if I crave him at night so much it hurts.

Sure, fooling around with him was great, but afterward I couldn’t help but think about how he’s done the same thing with so many other women, that our time together doesn’t mean anything to him. Or at least not the same thing it means for me.

I missed Christian for so long that I think I got ahead of myself when he started coming around, spending time with Finley. When we kissed and he touched me, it felt so good to be wanted again after feeling invisible to men, to Christian, for years. But we need to set boundaries for Finley. Someday, he’s going to find out he’s his father, and I’m the one who kept him away. I can’t cut Christian out of our son’s life again, no matter what he does to me. We have to be a united team on solid ground. Which means I have to get over my feelings for him and have a co-parenting relationship only with the hockey playboy.

And who knows, maybe Preston is right, and I haven’t met the man I’m meant to spend my life with yet. I never will if I keep pining for Christian.

That’s why, when Spencer Williams sends me a text message asking if I want to meet him for dinner tonight and get Finley’s signed jersey, I decide to say yes with one caveat—I told him the date is contingent on me finding a babysitter on such short notice.

And I think I know just the person who should be free tonight and has more than earned the opportunity.

Not only will it be good for me to go out, but it’ll also give Christian a chance to prove to me that I can trust him alone with Finley. It’s what he’s been working toward for the past few weeks, moving a step closer to telling Finley the truth.

Walking outside to the hockey game in the backyard, I tell Finley, “Time to refuel, buddy. Go grab a snack and some water.”

“But Mom…we’re in the middle of a game!” he whines, his narrow shoulders drooping.

Christian makes a loud buzzing sound. “Great timing since it’s intermission!” he tells our son, pointing his stick at him. “Even if it wasn’t, you have to do what your mother tells you to with no complaining, right? You wouldn’t whine to your hockey coach if he told you to take a water break, would you?”

“No,” Finley mutters before he tosses his stick down in the grass and stomps up the steps to the porch past me, heading inside.

Smiling at Christian, I tell him, “Thanks for backing me up.”

“That’s what we do, right? Show a united front when it comes to our son?”

“Christian!” I hiss, turning around to make sure Finley had made it inside before he said that so loudly.

“Sorry. It slipped out. But god, I really do want to tell him soon.”

“I know you do, and we’re getting there,” I promise him. “We might get a little closer if you can do me a huge favor tonight…”

“Anything,” he says. “Whenever you or Finley need me, I’ll be happy to help if I’m here or in Greensboro. It’s not that far, but I wish I could be closer…”

Before we get into another argument about us moving, I tell him, “If that’s true, then how about you stay and babysit tonight.”

The hockey hotshot blinks at me with what looks like surprise on his face. “You mean, you want me to watch Finley, like all on my own?”

“Yes, Christian. All by yourself for a few hours. Do you think you’re ready for it?” I ask because despite his best intentions, the man still has no clue what it means to be a father. It’s not just hanging out and having fun every second of the day.

“Okay, well then, yeah. I can do that. Definitely.”

“Great. Thank you. You can stay this afternoon or go to your hotel and come back. I’ll need to leave here at around six-thirty at the latest.”

“I’ll stay, if that’s okay?” he says when he comes over and leans his forearms on the porch railing to look over it at me.

“Sure. And you’ll be responsible for dinner. Either making something or ordering in, but I hope you’ll stay here with Finley and not take him out anywhere.”

“We’ll stay inside the house if that will make you feel better,” he replies with a smirk.

“Great. Thank you. I know you two will be fine, but promise me that you’ll still call me if you need me?”

“I promise,” he agrees, then clears his throat. “And I should probably know where you’re going just in case I can’t get you on your phone or you don’t come home...”

Oh, the nosy bastard is so full of shit. But he’s not entirely wrong. “I have a date,” I tell him.

“You what ?”

“I’m going to dinner with Spencer.”

“Wow,” he mutters as he pushes away from the porch and starts to turn away.

“Does that change your mind about babysitting? If so, one of my neighbors is probably available.”

Turning back to me, his golden, unshaven jaw clenches as if he wants to refuse, but then he finally says, “No, I can handle it.”

“Great. Then, I better go start getting ready.”

I start back inside when Christian says, “It’s only four o’clock!”

“I want to look nice,” I tell him over my shoulder.

Despite trying to act confident about this date in front of Christian, my stomach is in knots as I shower, put on a little makeup, blowout my long black hair, and then try to decide what to wear. I finally pair a red floral dress that sits just above my knees with a pair of red strappy sandals. It’s an outfit that I hope says I wanted to look nice but doesn’t look like I’m trying too hard.

Christian and Finley are sitting at the dining table enjoying their hamburgers that Christian cooked himself out on the grill. The charbroiled scent smells delicious and reminds me of all the times Preston would cook out on the patio for us in the summer.

My stomach growls loud enough for them to hear and they turn towards me. The half-eaten burger in Christian’s hands falls with a thud to the plate as his jaw literally drops open.

“Do I look okay?”

“You look pretty, Mommy,” Finley says before he turns away to toss another potato chip into his mouth.

“Well?” I ask Christian.

“I…you…wow, Maya.”

The fact that he can’t speak in a complete sentence instantly boosts my confidence and makes me smile. “Thanks, I guess? Anyway, I appreciate you staying over tonight. I shouldn’t be home too late.”

“Good,” Christian replies. “I mean, I’m glad you’re not planning to stay out late on a first date.”

“Uh-huh,” I mutter. “Finley, bath and bed by nine, even if I’m not home, okay?”

Our son looks at Christian, who raises a single blond eyebrow before he says, “Yes, ma’am.”

Ma’am is a new one that I assume is Christian’s influence.

Going over to him, I place a kiss on Finley’s forehead, leaving behind a lipstick stain. “Love you. Behave.”

“I will,” he agrees.

“Oh, I know you’ll behave,” I say to Finley. With a wink and whisper, I tell him, “I was talking to Christian.”

Both guys grin at me before I wave goodbye, grabbing my purse and keys on the way out the door.

I drive myself to the restaurant Spencer chose, rather than have him pick me up and encounter the hockey player in my house. The nervous flutters in my belly grow stronger with each mile.

The last time I had a date was so long ago, years ago, with Christian.

While I barely know Spencer, he’s probably the least intimidating man I could’ve picked for the first one getting back on the horse. Even Preston likes the goalie, and Preston doesn’t like anyone.

It feels good to be wanted; for Spencer to be interested in me. He seems like a nice guy, so I’m not sure why I’m so nervous.

If that’s even what I’m feeling.

I guess I’m also a little sad, as if going on this date, moving on with another man, might close the chapter on Christian for good.

That’s what I want, though, so I’m not sure why the thought nearly brings me to tears.

When I arrive at the restaurant, I’m a little taken aback by how fancy it is. Spencer picked one of the nicest restaurants around, and I suddenly feel underdressed. At least I wore a dress and not jeans that would be way too casual.

Inside, the place is all warm lighting and polished wood, with white tablecloths and soft music playing in the background from a man sitting at a piano. It’s intimate, classy, and definitely not the type of place I’m used to going to with Preston and Finley on the rare occasions we would go out to dinner. Preston hated the attention, and Finley is a picky eater, so takeout was usually a better option for us when nobody wanted to cook.

I spot Spencer at a table for two right away. He stands up when he sees me, a broad smile on his face. He’s certainly not underdressed. The tall, lean goalie looks good in his blue suit, but he also has a tight smile on his handsome face that makes him look almost as nervous as I feel.

“Hi Maya,” he says in greeting. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” I say, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “You look pretty great yourself.”

He pulls out my chair for me, and I sit down, still trying to shake off the nerves. It’s just one date. It doesn’t mean it’s the beginning of anything, or necessarily the end of anything either.

“I’m glad you came,” Spencer says as he takes his seat across from me. “Even if it was just to get a jersey from me.”

“Me too,” I admit with a smile. “But I’m not just here for the jersey.”

“Good,” he replies. “And the jersey is in my truck, so don’t leave without it.”

“I won’t, thank you. Finley will be so excited,” I tell him. “And I should warn you right now that it’s been a long time, years, since I went on a date.”

“I don’t do this much either.” He gives me a shy smile, and for a moment, it feels like we’re both able to relax a little bit.

We start with the usual small talk—what we’ve been up to this summer, hockey, living in the area. It’s a simple, easy conversation.

By dessert, a raspberry cheesecake I can’t resist trying, the conversation deepens into how life doesn’t always turn out the way you think it will, but we should still be thankful for what it gives us.

I enjoy every delicious bite as I listen to Spencer talk about the challenges he’s faced, the risks he took, the injuries he overcame to be a part of the Warhawks. It’s inspiring, really, to see how far he’s come, and how he never gave up on his dream even when the deck was stacked against him.

“I hope you get to be the starter soon,” I tell him. “I know how much that would mean to you.”

“It was hard at first, watching from the bench when I got picked up from the minor league. But now I’m just glad to be part of a pro team. A team that just won the championship cup. I still get paid to play the sport I love, so I can’t ask for much more.”

“That is great. I wish I knew what I loved, what I was good at, so that I could try to find a job doing it,” I admit. “I need to figure it out fast so I can get a job like yesterday.”

“I’m sure you will. Tell me more about your hobbies, what you enjoy in what little free time you have as a mom,” Spencer says, his voice softening a bit as he leans closer, as if genuinely interested.

I really don’t have time for any hobbies. Once Finley’s in bed asleep, I enjoy taking long baths and then streaming old sitcoms.

My fingers play with the stem of my wine glass as I tell Spencer the truth. “I… well, my life is so busy, I don’t have a lot of free time to figure out what I enjoy doing. That’s what I had hoped to do at college. But then before the end of my first semester, I got pregnant...”

Spencer watches me closely, his expression gentle and understanding. “That must have been hard,” he says quietly. “And you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I still can’t believe Christian Riley is a father…”

I gasp at his casual mention of our secret. “How did you…”

“Oh, ah, Christian told me, at Finley’s birthday party,” he explains. I vaguely remember him mentioning that Christian told him we weren’t together. It should have occurred to me that Christian would’ve had to have mentioned being Finley’s father for the subject of our relationship status to come up.

At what I’m guessing is my stricken expression, Spencer lowers his voice further and says, “Don’t worry. I would never tell anyone. It’s none of my business or anyone else’s. That does explain why Preston hated him so much and brutalized him on the ice.”

“Right,” I agree. “It was all a long time ago, obviously.”

Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s just that being around Spencer feels comfortable and easy in a way that I didn’t expect. Whatever it is, I find myself telling him about how I ended up pregnant, about Christian, and how it became harder each day to tell Christian he had a son. It’s really nice to be able to open up to someone about our past.

As I talk, Spencer’s expression shifts from curiosity to concern. He listens intently, not interrupting, just letting me get it all out.

“Christian said you’re not together, but it sounds like there’s a lot of history.”

I nod and can feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. I hadn’t expected our light conversation to get so intense, or to veer off into this awkward topic.

“Christian and I…we’re definitely not together,” I manage to say, though my voice cracks a little. “We haven’t been for a long time. I didn’t even see him for years, which was my fault. But now he’s a part of Finley’s life, trying to get to know his son. We both need to focus on being great parents to Finley and nothing more.”

Spencer nods slowly, his expression thoughtful, but I can see the wheels turning in his mind. He’s probably trying to figure out where a date with him fits into all of this, and I can’t blame him. I’ve been trying to figure that out myself. The timing isn’t great.

“Thanks for telling me,” Spencer says softly, reaching across the table to take my hand. “I can’t imagine how challenging that would be, to have a child with someone and have to let them be a part of your life, even when it hurts.”

One of the tears spill over, and I hate that I’m crying in the middle of this beautiful restaurant, but I can’t help it. The weight of everything—Finley, Christian, the uncertainty of my life—is all too much.

Spencer doesn’t seem bothered or embarrassed. He just keeps holding my hand. “It’s okay,” he whispers, his thumb rubbing gentle circles over my knuckles. “It’s going to be okay, Maya.”

For a moment, I let myself enjoy the comfort of a stranger. But as much as I appreciate his kindness, I already know that I have no romantic feelings for him. I pull my hand away from his after a moment, wiping my tears with the back of my hand.

“Sorry,” I mutter, feeling embarrassed now. “I didn’t mean to… break down like that.”

Spencer gives me a small, understanding smile. “You don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s none of my business and obviously burdening you. I bet you try to put on a brave face all the time for your son and brother.”

I nod, but I still feel awkward. This was supposed to be a date and now it’s turned into a freaking therapy session.

“Do you want to go home?” Spencer asks, his voice gentle. “I can drive you if you’re not feeling up to staying.”

For a moment, I consider it. Going home sounds safe and familiar, or it used to, before Christian showed up. Now, it’s impossible for me to hide from these messy emotions for long. I also don’t want to run out now, further ruining the night. Spencer’s been nothing but kind, and I am nothing but a mess.

“No,” I say after a moment. “I think I’m okay.”

Spencer looks at me with a hint of uncertainty, as if he’s not sure if I’m being honest, but eventually, he nods. “Alright then.”

We spend the next hour sipping wine and talking about much lighter things. Spencer’s humor comes out more, and he easily makes me laugh. It’s fun, and a nice little escape as I temporarily forget about everything else.

Eventually, though, the conversation comes back to future plans.

“What I really want is to be able to take care of myself and Finley on my own,” I admit. “For once. I also need to find some sort of purpose with my life once Finley’s at school for the entire day. I’ve been trying to find a job, but you can imagine how that’s going with no degree and no actual experience doing anything but helping out at the preschool when they asked for volunteers. My only job for years was to make sure he’s happy and taken care of, so I’m sort of feeling a little lost now that he doesn’t need me all day and night.”

Spencer nods, his expression thoughtful. “You’re doing a great job raising Finley.”

“Preston was a huge help,” I admit, unable to take credit for him on my own.

“You both raised a happy kid. He knows you, Preston, and Christian love him and would do anything for him. Your job there is secure.”

“I guess so,” I agree. I’ve always known how much I love Finley, but hearing someone else recognize it, someone outside of our little bubble, is a relief, like maybe I’m not failing as a mother. “Thank you,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “That means a lot.”

There’s a comfortable moment of silence between us. Spencer’s eyes are still on me, searching as if he’s trying to figure out the right thing to say next. “Can I ask you something?” he says after a beat.

“Sure,” I say, though I can tell by the fact that he asked that I may not like his question.

“Are you still in love with Christian?”

His question stuns me. And for a second, I’m not sure how to respond.

Am I still in love with Christian? I don’t know! It’s complicated. I care about him, and he’s Finley’s father, but love? That’s a whole different thing.

“I don’t know,” I finally admit honestly, feeling my throat tighten. “It’s so… complicated. I’m trying to move on…”

Spencer doesn’t push, but I can see the flicker of disappointment in his eyes as he leans back in his seat. “I get it,” he says softly. “Life’s messy.”

It is messy. So messy. And as much as I appreciate Spencer’s understanding, I also feel the weight of the situation pressing down on me. There’s so much uncertainty, so much I still haven’t figured out.

“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” Spencer adds quickly, his tone gentle. “I just wanted to know where things stood.”

I shake my head, forcing a small smile. “No, it’s okay. It’s just… I’m still trying to figure it all out myself.”

He nods, and for a moment, neither of us says anything else. “I had fun with you tonight. I hope we can do this again if you feel the same.”

“I had fun too, Spencer,” I admit, my voice quiet. “But…I have to warn you that there’s a lot going on in my life. Finley’s about to start school, I need to find a job like ASAP, and then there’s Christian who I think is serious about being a part of our life, Finley’s life…”

He smiles, but I can see the disappointment settle in his handsome features, though he tries to hide it. “I understand. You’re busy. I will be too soon when the season starts,” he says, his tone gentle. “How about we just take things slow, as friends for now?”

“Okay,” I agree.

We sit there in silence for a few more moments, the weight of the conversation lingering between us before he changes the subject. “So, you need a job?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I grew up not far from here, which is why I was so damn happy the Warhawks wanted me. I know tons of people in the area. Maybe I can help you find a job. If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?” he asks.

“I honestly have no idea.”

“None at all?”

“I really don’t know. I’ve never had a chance to explore any careers. I just know I need a job with flexible hours. That’s why I applied to one job I didn’t have the experience requirement for but would potentially work with Finley’s school day.”

“Which position was that for?”

“Oh, um, an activity director at a senior center.”

“Really?” Spencer asks. “You want to work with seniors?”

“Yes. I can’t imagine leaving your home behind and being stuck in a place like that for years, away from your family that can only visit when they’re not working or raising their own families. I’m so lucky I have my brother, but if I didn’t, I would be all on my own. I guess I would like to be there for someone else to make their day a little better.”

“I get it. And I actually have an aunt who is a nurse at a retirement home near here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I could ask her if they’re hiring and let you know.”

“That would be so great, thank you. But no pressure. I don’t have any experience, and I might be awful at it.”

“You won’t be awful at it,” he replies with a grin. “But I can’t promise anything.”

“Understood.”

“Well, what do you think? Are you ready to call it a night?

“I think so.” Ready to get home, I check my phone before I start driving. “No calls from Christian, so things must be going well on his first time alone with Finley.”

“That’s great,” Spencer says. “I like kids, but I’m not sure if I would trust myself to be completely responsible for one.”

“Oh, I’m sure you would be fine,” I tell him with a smile.

Spencer picks up the check and we leave the restaurant. We stop by his truck for the jersey before he walks me to my car.

“Thank you for dinner and the signed jersey,” I tell him, lifting the black and red sweater. “Finley will adore it.”

“You’re welcome.” He gives me a warm smile, and for a second, I think he’s going to say something more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans in and gives me a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around me in a way that feels comforting without asking for anything more.

I hug him back, closing my eyes for just a moment as I let myself sink into the warmth of his embrace. It feels nice and safe, but there’s also a part of me that knows this isn’t where my heart will ever lie. Not just with Spencer, but any man who isn’t Christian Riley.

As much as it hurts, I think I still love Christian. Maybe I never stopped. I don’t think I ever will either, no matter how much time goes by. God, that’s really depressing.

When we pull apart, Spencer looks at me with a mixture of affection and uncertainty. “Don’t forget to take time to take care of yourself, Maya,” he says softly. “Let me know if you need anything now that Preston’s gone, and since Christian will be going back to Greensboro for training. I’ll check in with you soon, if that’s okay?”

“Sure, Spencer. And thanks again for tonight,” I tell him, offering him another smile before getting into my car.

As I drive home, my mind is a whirlwind of emotions. I replay the night over again in my head. It was a good evening. Nice. But only at a friendly level. There’s no spark with Spencer. No desire for anything with him but friendship.

When I finally pull into my driveway, I sit in the car for a moment, staring at the house. Finley should be asleep by now, and Christian is probably on the couch, scrolling through his phone or watching TV, wishing I would hurry up and get home so he can leave.

As soon as I finally step inside, Christian stands up from the sofa to greet me, his face blank when I walk into the living room lit with only the screen of the flickering television. “Well? How was your date?”

I force a smile, but I can tell he sees right through me. “It was… nice,” I admit, sinking down onto the couch.

He raises an eyebrow. “Just nice?”

I let out a sigh, leaning back against the cushions. “We talked and got along great. Spencer is a sweet guy, but I’m glad it’s over.”

“Me too,” Christian agrees with a smirk as he sits back on the sofa next to me.

“So, what are we watching?” I ask before slipping off my shoes and curling my legs underneath me, trying to adjust to my new normal—being next to Christian without touching him or kissing him the way I really want to.

I lie awake that night after my date, staring at the dark ceiling, feeling the weight of his voice as if Christian were standing outside my door, asking me to let him in. The desperation, the sincerity—it’s all there. I want to open that door. God, I almost did. But something held me back, something deep and familiar.

Fear.

Fear that letting him in would mean inviting all the pain from the past back into my life and Finley’s.

But then, there’s this other part of me—a quieter, softer voice that whispers maybe—maybe he really has changed. Maybe this time, things could be different.

That voice is dangerous because it’s hopeful, and hope is exactly what led me down this road before. I fell in love with Christian once, and I got hurt. Can I risk doing it again?

The house is quiet. Finley’s asleep, oblivious to the turmoil in my heart. I know I should sleep, too, but my mind is running a marathon of doubts and what-ifs. Every time I close my eyes, I see Christian’s face—his eyes pleading with me, his voice cracking just a little when he said, “ Fine, I want more, Maya. I want to be with you. I want you to be mine in every damn way. ”

I sigh heavily and roll over, squeezing my eyes shut, wishing I didn’t believe him.