Page 101 of Bring You Back

I can’t stop my huff of agreement.

My mom knows what she’s doing. One of those things I love about her. She’s speaking up, for everyone. Herself. Camille. Me. Even Dad. None of us are immune to mistakes.

And I’m going to need to be forgiven, too.

“Let her in. Let us back in.”

“I’m trying,” I breathe, another weight lifting. “It’s been a long year.”

She nods, knowing all too well. “Don’t make it a long summer,” she warns, tacking on a smile, and for the first time in a while, I feel like we’re going to be okay. We might never be like we were—hell, I don’t know if any of us will be like we were, but we’ll be okay. I have to believe that.

I find myself smiling back before I walk out the door.

“Mom! Catch me!”

A kid screams on the sand, running along the shore into his mother’s outstretched arms. I’m watching from my spot. I’d decided to be adventurous this time by sitting on the hood of my Jeep instead of behind the wheel.

The mom catches the kid. He squeals a laugh as the dad joins them—a family of three. Like how mine used to be. I try not to picture a fourth party waltzing over to break the harmony.

There’s a brief moment where I wonder if my dad’s new kid will look like me before reality bites that thought out of my head.

This kid won’t have a strand of my DNA.

Because I don’t have a strand of this kid’s father’s.

All the years I’ve wanted a sibling, my dad had to go and make one with a woman who’s not Mom. My mom even mademewith a man who’s not Dad.

A silver lining in all of this is that I don’t think about that man. My mom doesn’t talk about him, or seem to care about him, and I trust her judgment.

She may have slipped up eighteen years ago, but she gave me a good dad. Both of my parents did. I can’t deny that, which is why if my dad and I somehow get past all of this, my acceptance of Tiffany and the baby will be up to my mother. When it comes to the mistress in the family, I’ll follow her lead.

Fuck, my family has a lot of baggage.

Baggage that I’m finding myself willing to unpack, sort through, and find something that fits.

“Hey.”

Reyna walks up from the side and I almost laugh at how my presence here seems to summon her.

“Hey,” I say, my stare still focused on the family now splashing in the water.

“Want some company?”

She’s tentative with the words, like she expects me to turn her down. I’m quiet as I consider it, rolling the choices on my tongue.Stay an asshole. Just be me.

I look at her and she smiles, tucks strands of hair behind her ear. “Sure.”

So much for trying to make our breaking easier.

I pull my leg to my chest, rest my arm on my knee as she hops up next to me. She scoots in close, her shoulder rubbing mine. She wraps her warm fingers around my bicep and gives my arm a tug, like she can sense the barrier it puts between us and wants to remove it. But I don’t budge, keeping my stare on the rolling ocean as her fingers finally slide from my arm, giving up the attempt. She sighs, but stays close.

“No surfing tonight?”

I shake my head. “No surfing tonight.”

She nudges my shoulder. “I was gonna say, it’s the perfect time to teach me.”

“It’s the worst time to teach you,” I blurt, my voice a harsh edge, and she rears back. I don’t know why I’m so adamant about not wanting her on a surfboard. Maybe I just want something that’s mine. Mine alone.

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