Page 53 of The Scars I Bare
I checked my phone again, the message from Blake still on my screen.
I let out a breath and hit Delete as I tried to keep my mascara in place. I took this bad mood with me all the way to work, waltzing into the clinic with a storm cloud above my head for all to see.
“Whoa, you okay?” Dean asked, seeing me attack my coffee with a vengeance.
I attached the travel mug lid and worked my hair into a bun before pulling the sweater I kept in the office over my shoulders. “I’m a good mom; we’ve established this, right?”
“Right,” he agreed right away.
“So, why is it that, every time one of those moments comes—you know, the pivotal moments, like the first step or first day of school—I’m always screwing it up?”
“How do you screw up a first step?”
I looked him dead in the face. “Why are you naturally assuming I screwed up the first day of school?”
His expression went blank, and he began to backpedal. “I, uh…I mean, I just assumed because of—”
The backpedaling was actually kind of adorable. I felt the corner of my mouth upturning into a grin. “It was a total disaster. You can chill. Also, my five-year-old thinks you have a crush on her.”
His face went blank as he tried to come up with a response.
“What do you do when you have a crush on a girl? You bring her flowers. So, naturally, she deducted you have a crush on her.”
“I really don’t know what to say about that. But, holy crap, do they teach you that death stare you just did on me in parenting class, or is that something you learned on the job? Do you use that on Lizzie? Like, full force? Because, dear God, I think my life started to flash before my eyes.”
I laughed. “That was only at half-volume, and yes, she whimpers just like you did. But, seriously, I drove up to the school, ready to be awesome, and then nothing. I remember a chair and a desk and maybe a hug. But that’s it. I blame Blake. If he hadn’t called and texted me, I would have been on my—”
Dean stepped forward, all levity and humor gone from his face. “He called you?”
“He’s still Lizzie’s father. He’s allowed to call and text.”
“Says who?”
“The judge who gave him joint custody.”
His face reddened. “You let him have partial custody?”
My heart galloped into motion as I stepped back. I noticed the way his fist was balled up tightly at his side and how hard he was breathing. “I didn’t let him do anything. But it was the only way I could get out. You don’t know the man I married, the family I married into.”
Our eyes met, and in that single second of connection, he backed down.
Taking a step back, he retreated. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Cora. It’s just…these feelings I have for you, they’re real, and when I think of the things you must have gone through—both you and Lizzie—it makes me want to give you a better life. I’m sorry. You just got out of one mess, and I have no right to ask you into another—“
“Mess?” My mouth upturned into a sort of smile.
“I guess you could call it that huh?” His expression matched my own before he turned serious again “I know I scare you,” he said.
“You don’t,” I protested.
“I do.”
“Sometimes,” I conceded. “But it’s not you,” I was at a loss for words as I quickly checked my watch. We had less than five minutes before the doors opened. “It’s hard to explain.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Come over for dinner tonight?” I asked, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
“You cooking? I seem to remember a nurse I had years ago, who said she couldn’t cook anything beyond ramen and boxed macaroni and cheese.”
