Page 56 of Pucking Fate

“I get it,” my brother says softly. “But none of us know what the future holds. And you’re stronger than you think, Maya. You’ve already been through the worst with our parents, having Finley so young, and you came out the other side. Don’t let fear keep you from something that could turn out to be great. It’s not just Finley who deserves to be happy. You deserve it too, you know?”

Preston’s words hit me hard, like a wave crashing over me, dragging me under. I want to believe Christian. And Preston. I want to believe that I deserve happiness too after all the loneliness. But the fear, the doubt—they’re still there, lurking in the background thanks to how much it hurt when Christianleft and my parents abandoned me rather than love me because I was pregnant. If I had told them I got pregnant but didn’t technically have sex, they would’ve accused me of lying.

“Just think about it,” Preston adds. “And take your time. You’re right not to rush into anything for Finley’s sake. But don’t shut Christian out forever out of fear of the unknown. You owe it to yourself to at least give it a chance if you still have feelings for him.”

“You’re that certain Christian still has feelings for me, too?” I ask, while chewing on my bottom lip.

“Maya, that man might be a pain in my ass most of the time, but I think he always loved you. You broke his heart too, remember?”

I smile. “Fine, I’ll…think about it.”

“Good,” Preston says, his tone lightening. “And if you still need me to come kick his ass, I’ll come right up there no matter the time or day. You know that, right?”

I laugh despite the tears in my eyes. “Yes, I know that. Thank you, Preston.”

“Do you need me to come up there for all the daddy drama?” he asks again.

“No. No, we’re fine. I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Call me anytime, Maya. That’s what I’m here for.”

We hang up, and I’m left standing in the kitchen, my mind swirling with everything he said. He’s right. I can’t let fear rule my life forever. But letting Christian in again—it’s terrifying. The stakes are so much higher now with Finley involved. We can’t afford to mess this up a second time.

23

Maya

That night, after Christian left without even attempting to stay with me once Finley goes to bed, I find myself sitting on the sofa, watching our son play with his Legos on the floor. He’s completely absorbed in his blocks, his little face full of concentration. Every now and then, he glances up at me with that same innocent curiosity, like he’s still thinking about the conversation we had this morning.

“Mommy?” Finley asks, his little eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and something else—something deeper.

“Yes, sweetie?” I manage, trying to sound calm, but I can already feel that this conversation is about to head in a difficult direction.

“Why doesn’t Christian live with us?” His question hangs in the air like a ticking bomb. God, why didn’t it occur to me that he would wonder why we’re apart?

I take a deep breath, my mind racing for a way to explain things to him without overloading his little heart. “BecauseChristian and I… like we discussed this morning, we aren’t married.”

“You and Uncle Preston lived together and weren’t married,” he points out.

“Yes, but Uncle Preston is my brother. We’re family.”

“Christian’s not our family?”

“Of course he’s our family, but we’re just not as close with him as we are with Preston.”

Finley frowns, clearly not satisfied with my answer. “But why? All my friends live with their mommies and daddies together. Some of them have two mommies and two daddies.”

My heart clenches at the innocence of his words, at the way he’s trying to piece together a world that doesn’t make sense to him. I reach out and gently ruffle his hair. “Sometimes mommies and daddies don’t live together, baby.”

“But Christian’s going to leave soon and then we won’t see him or Uncle Preston except on TV.” His voice rises slightly, filled with the urgency of a child who’s trying to understand why his life isn’t like all his friends’. “Why can’t we live where they live?”

I struggle to keep my voice steady. “It’s complicated, sweetie.”

He looks down at his Lego bridge, his small hands fidgeting with it. “Christian said he loves me and that I could call him dad if I want to.”

I didn’t know Christian had said that to him, but I’m so glad he did. “You can call him dad or daddy or just keep calling him Christian. That’s totally up to you.”

“Does Christian love you too?”

---