Page 6

6

Christian

M y son was beautiful from the day he was born. Despite all she was facing on her own, Maya smiled at Finley with love from the second she laid eyes on him.

Those are just two of the many things I learned by looking through photos and staying up all night to watch all the videos of the moments I missed with Finley.

It was a sweet kind of torture I will happily endure again tonight because, while it makes me angry to see the time I lost with my son, seeing all the images helps me feel like I’m becoming a part of his life.

All I know is that I want to be in the photos and videos from now on.

At the park the next day, the three of us eat some pizza, then I push Finley on the swings. His laughter fills the air as he soars higher and higher while Maya sits on a bench and watches from afar, giving us some space. For a while, it’s just us — no tension, no awkwardness, just father and son. It feels good; right.

“Christian, can we play hockey in the backyard later?” Finley asks as I slow the swing down and he hops off.

“Sure thing. As long as your mom doesn’t mind,” I add, steering him back toward Maya. I want to stay on that woman’s good side by deferring to her on everything Finley related.

“I wish I had an ice rink out there instead of just grass,” he says with a heavy sigh when we’re almost at Maya’s bench.

“Me too, buddy. But the ice would melt in the summer.”

“Oh yeah,” he says.

“I have an idea, though,” I tell him, since I’m having ice withdrawals myself. “Let me make a quick call, okay?”

“Okay,” he says while Maya gets to her feet and arches an eyebrow in question.

I stay close enough for her to overhear the conversation since I don’t want her to think I’m calling some other woman.

“Christian?” her brother’s deep voice answers, sounding surprised to see my name appearing on his phone’s screen.

“Hey, Preston. Sorry to bother you, but I was hoping you could call in a favor for us.”

“Us?” he asks.

“Me, Finley, and Maya.”

“So, things are going well with the visits?”

“Yeah, so far so good,” I tell him. “Finley and I have been playing hockey in the backyard, but he misses the ice. I do too. Do you think you could pull some strings to get us into the Warhawks arena for an hour or two one day this week?”

“I’ll see what I can do and call you back,” he says.

“Okay, thanks.”

As soon as I end the call, Maya says, “You called my brother for a favor?”

“Yeah. Why?”

She shakes her head, making her long raven strands dance in the wind. “It’s still odd that you two aren’t constantly at each other’s throats.”

“We’ve worked things out. Preston’s forgiven me for being an idiot and I’ve forgiven him for hitting me and shit in the past. And stuff, I mean, in the past.”

“That’s good. I’m glad,” she replies. “I know you were his best friend during the minor leagues, when you were roommates.”

“Yeah, I actually missed the big oaf over the years,” I tell her. “It’ll be nice to get to play on the same team with Preston again without him trying to murder me.”

Maya’s smile makes me weak in the knees.

Clearing my throat, I glance back to Finley going down the slide. “You don’t mind if we go to the arena to skate, do you?”

“Not at all. Finley loves the ice,” she says. “In fact, I bet he would love to have his birthday party there this year.”

“When’s his birthday?”

“July twenty-second.”

What was I doing on July twenty-second almost five years ago? “I think…I think I was on vacation in Miami. That day, I mean, five years ago while you were…”

“I know,” Maya replies softly.

Stepping up closer to her, I ask, “What do you mean?”

She bites her bottom lip and lowers her eyes to her sandals like they are suddenly more fascinating than the park. “Because…I-I was going to tell you that I was on the way to the hospital. But then I saw the photos of you and your friends on social media at a party on some boat.”

“I wish you had called me. I would’ve swum back to shore if I needed to and then booked a flight. I would’ve done anything to be here.”

Maya nods. “I think I knew that you probably would have come. The distance was an excuse because I wasn’t sure if I could bear seeing you. Thanks to the hormones, I was bawling like a baby, and in agonizing labor…”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “For not being there and the agonizing part. But mostly I’m sorry for making you not want me there.”

She shakes her head and finally meets my eyes. “That’s the problem. I did want you there. I wanted it so badly that I wouldn’t have wanted you to leave.”

“Oh.” Not only did she want me with her when she gave birth to our son, she wanted me to stay with them.

“I knew you would have to leave though, to go back to Greensboro to get ready for the start of the hockey season…”

Fucking hockey.

For the first time in my life, I think I’m starting to hate the first thing I ever loved because it likely not only cost me Maya, but my son too. My family.

Every time I’ve looked at Maya these past few days, I’ve seen the worry in her eyes. I thought she was just waiting for me to screw up, and honestly, I didn’t blame her.

But part of me is wondering if she’s also worried about those feelings for me coming back and is trying to keep her distance.

Or maybe they never left.

My feelings for her never faded. I just tried my best to forget they existed.