Page 77 of Single Mom's Guide to Love

Ainsley: This is so romantic. I swear, this is what romance novels are made of.

Quinn: Ainsley, you don’t even know their story.

Ainsley: The single mom and the billionaire? Come on, Quinn. That’s a cliché.

I can only laugh at the antics of my siblings, and especially at the last text from Ainsley.

“What’s so funny?”

I smile at him and grab my purse and Jayce’s suitcase. “My sister called us cliché.”

“Oh, Love,” Logan says with a laugh. “We’re anything but.”

Another day that ends in the letter “y” and another day that I’m a horrible mom.

Which, you know, is great timing since my ex-husband wants to tell a judge I am one.

The last forty-eight hours have been a whirlwind. I haven’t had a lot of time to figure much out. And one thing that I let fall through the cracks is what, and how, I’m telling Jayce. How did I realize I forgot about this very important thing?

Yup. Mom of the Year right here.

“Mommy? Where are we going?”

I swallow a giant lump in my throat as I turn toward our final destination. “Logan’s.”

What to say…what to say…what to say?

In my defense, I did have a plan when Logan was moving in with us. That Logan was new in town so didn’t know a lot of people, that his house was being worked on, and as friends, we were going to let him stay with us, because that’s what friends do.

Nice life lesson to teach your son about kindness? Yes. A lie? Also yes. But a justified one to protect my child from disappointment when this ended? Hard yes.

But now that we’re going to Logan’s, I don’t know if that same kind of fib is going to work. Do I tell him that we have bugs and our house needs fumigated, and Logan was nice enough to let us stay? Sure, great for the short term. Horrible for when we get back home and Jayce decides to look in every nook and cranny for non-existent bugs and can’t sleep in his own room for fear they will crawl up his nose and into his brain.

“Yes! Can I play SpaceCraft with him?”

I nod, trying to keep my face even as I turn into Logan’s driveway. “Maybe. You’ll have to ask him and make sure he’s not busy.”

“Yes! This is going to be the best day!”

Sure, best day for him. He’s moving into his idol’s mansion. I’m moving in with my husband.

Same actions, two very different responses.

“Actually, buddy. When we get there, and before you ask Logan to play, we’re going to need to talk to you about some things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Um…well…”

“Is it that you and Logan are married?”

What in the fucking world did my child just say?

“Jayce? Can you repeat that, please?”

“Are you talking to me because you married Logan? Like Daddy married Vivian?”

Well, now I am.

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