Page 83 of Second Chance with the Single Dad Goalie
I nod slowly, my chest tightening. “Yeah. I get that.”
She leans back against the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. “It’s not that it was bad or anything,” she lets out a breathy, almost nervous laugh.
“I wasn’t expecting it,” she continues, voice quieter now. “And I guess I didn’t know how to react after. So, I just…, avoided it.”
I nod, exhaling. “Yeah. I noticed.”
She exhales, shaking her head. “It’s just…,”she stops, brows furrowing. “God...”
“I never meant to make things harder for you," I say, my voice lower now. "I know we’ve got a good thing going here. Given what happened with… us. I don’t want to mess that up."
She doesn’t say anything for a while, and I just pick up my book again. The silence between us settles for a long time, until….
“What was it like?” she asks quietly.
I glance at her. “What?”
“After she left. What was it like taking care of the kids, alone?”
My stomach tightens. I lean back against the couch and stare at the ceiling like the answer’s written there. My mind went back to it all, my fingers idly running over the edge of the book in my lap.
“It was hard,” I admit. My voice is rough, quieter than I meant it to be. “Really hard.”
I rub my hands over my thighs, trying to shake the weight pressing down on my chest. “I mean, I wasn’tcompletelyalone. My mom helped when she could. My sisters, Keith, even your parents sometimes. God, your mom used to drop off baby food like she thought that I’d forget to feed them.” I let out a breath.
Whitney lets out a soft laugh.
“But at the end of the day, it was still just me. And there were moments…” I pause, swallowing against the lump in my throat.
“I didn’t know what I was doing half the time.” A humorless laugh escapes me. “Hell, sometimes Istilldon’t. I’d put them to bed and just sit there, wondering if I was screwing them up. Wondering if she was ever going to come back for them or if I’ll ever be enough.” My voice turns rough.
Whitney is quiet for a long time; her gaze fixed on the floor. Then, softly, she says, “You were enough, Blake. Still enough for them.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “That’s nice to say, but…!”
“You are.” Her voice is firm now, with no hesitation. A small, sad smile tugs at her lips. “I remember when we were younger, you always said you wanted to be the kind of dad you never had.”
I huff out a quiet laugh. “Guess I didn’t have much of a blueprint to work with.”
Her gaze softens. “Maybe not. But look at them, Blake. I’ve seen you with them. They’re happy. Theyloveyou. And yeah, maybe it wasn’t easy, maybe you were struggling, but you still showed up. You gave them love. That’s what matters. You raised the two most amazing, fun-to-be-with, and well-mannered kids I’ve known.”
Something tightens in my chest. I drop my head back against the couch, exhaling.
For a while, neither of us spoke. The only sound is the soft hum of the heater kicking in, filling the silence between us.
Then, quietly, Whitney says, “Do you ever think about her?”
I turn my head, meeting her gaze. “Not in the way you think,” I answer honestly.
Whitney nods, but there’s something guarded in her eyes.
I study her for a second before speaking again. “Do you?”
Her brows pull together. “Do I what?”
“Think about us.” The words are out before I can stop them. My heart stumbles in my chest, but I don’t look away.
Whitney blinks, her lips parting slightly like she wasn’t expecting that. “Blake…”
