Page 81 of Bad Husband

“Well no.” He waves me off. “I’m not going to set one off, but I’d love to build one.”

Oh dear God. Really?

We laugh together and he grabs my left hand and sees I’m still wearing my ring. “I think you’re going to work it out.”

My brow pulls together, my stomach dipping. “Why do you say that?”

He sets my hand down. “Mommy cries a lot more. She misses you. We miss you.”

Tears sting my eyes, emotion surfacing for what I can’t change and desperately want to. “You know I love you, right? This doesn’t change anything between us and never will.”

His eyes move around his room and then land on mine. “I know. I love you, too, Dad.”

There’s one thing I can appreciate about my nuclear bomb obsessed seven-year-old. He may be into science and bombs and way smarter than me, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s still seven and forgiveness comes easy for him. Life hasn’t taught him the harsh lessons of trust and betrayal. No one important in his life has lied to him or broken promises made only to diffuse a moment.

I wasn’t going to be the first. I wouldn’t, Icouldn’tgo back on this one. Whatever happened between Madison and me, it wouldn’t come between me and my boys.

Downstairs, Madison’s in the living room picking up toys off the floor and I can see what Callan’s referring to. She’s sad.

I clear my throat when I’m standing near the front door and she looks up. “I’m gonna head out.”

Her glassy eyes move around the room and then land on mine, uneasiness masking her features. There’s something else about her I can’t place, an emotion. “Okay.”

I study her thoughtfully for a moment, desperately wanting the uneasy look she carries to disappear.

I shouldn’t leave, should I? You’re thinking it, I know you are. In your head, or maybe out-loud, you’re screaming at me to walk over to her, apologize and carry her upstairs where I do something romantic.

And I want to, I do, but my pride holds me back.

Madison reaches up and tugs at her hair, letting down her ponytail. Her dark hair spills around her should as she stands, a firetruck in her other hand at her hip. “Thanks for spending time with them.”

My heart lurches thinking of everything Callan said upstairs. With a sigh, my shoulders hunch. “It’s no problem. I’ll come by tomorrow night and say goodnight to them, if that’s okay?”

She nods, breathing out even breaths. “You can come by anytime you want.”

Despite everything that happened between us, I’m thankful for this right here. Our ability to put our own differences aside and see what matters most. The kids and their wellbeing.

As I’m leaving, I sneak a glance over my shoulder at her, hating the sorrow lingering in her every feature.

For the next three weeks, I work.

Nonstop.

Isn’t that what Madison said drove her away?

Well this time, I work on our house, the new one and with Brantley’s help, we finish it. I still make sure to see the boys. I show up every night to tuck them into bed and read with Callan.

I can honestly say despite this being a really fucking shitty situation, it’s brought me closer to the boys.

I look around the house I’ve finally finished. Knowing they’ll be moving into it soon, without me, my chest constricts and my heart begins to pound. How could I have let this happen?

“This place is beautiful, man,” Brantley says beside me when the inspector leaves after the final walk through.

I lean into the kitchen island, my arms crossed over my chest and stare at the keys in front of me. “Thanks for your help with it. I owe you big time.”

“Yes, you do.” He chuckles and nods to the keys. “Are you giving them to her today?”

“Yeah, I signed the divorce papers and I need to give them to her. We’re approaching the sixty days here soon.” I shrug and put the keys in my pocket. “I guess I’ll just give them to her with the keys to the house.”

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