Page 112 of When It's Us
I don’t know if we’ll be able to keep doing what we’ve been doing, now that her boys will be here, or if we’ll have to go back to sneaking around. I don’t want to, but I'll follow her lead since she’s the mom.
I recognize and respect the hell out of her and know that the boys will come first, as they should.
It hits me now, standing in this airport, minutes from her past colliding with our present, that I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do with myself when she leaves.
“They’re here,” she says, nodding down at her phone. “Peter texted.”
I look up in time to see two small boys sprinting through the space. They’re mirror images of each other, a little taller than the last time I saw them, crazy curly red hair bouncing as they run, gap-toothed grins for their mom.
And right behind them: Peter.
He’s tall—though not as tall as me, polished in a way I’ll never be. I know he’s some kind of tech guy. He’s dressed like one too, in a navy button-up, crisp slacks, a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, phone in hand.
Peter smiles when he spots Ginger. The look isn’t flirty, but warm. Familiar.
“Hey, Gingersnap,” he says, pulling her into a friendly hug.
She laughs lightly, and I really hate that; him having a nickname for her.
A small, stupid flame of tension lights in my chest.
It’s not anger. Not even real jealousy. Just a kind of…tightness. A reminder that Peter knows a version of Ginger that I don’t. The carefree college girl. The woman she was the day they got married. Peter knows her with swollen ankles and a belly rounded with twin boys. They have history. Memories. Of a life together.
And me? I’m just the lucky son of a bitch that gets her now. For however long that lasts.
Ginger drops to her knees with tears in her eyes, wrapping her arms around both boys, before kissing each of them on a cheek. “My God, you guys are huge.” She laughs, pulling back to look at both of them.
Peter hangs back for a beat, letting Ginger have a minute with the boys, then steps forward, meeting my gaze. He’s curious but not territorial. Just polite.
“Hey,” he says, voice friendly, offering his hand. “Peter.”
“Hutch.” I grasp his hand, giving it a shake. “Good to meet you.”
Ginger glances between us, then smiles at Peter. “Flight go okay?”
Peter glances at her and then the boys. “Yeah. Everything went smoothly.”
“Glad to hear it. Thanks for bringing them.”
Peter nods like it’s no big deal, easy, same old, same old and that ache hits me again. Low and hard.
That morning in the kitchen pops up again in my mind. This is what my future would look like if we took things further: Ginger sending her boys off to be with their dad and then waiting on pins and needles for them to come back. I couldn’t imagine a life where I not only got to hold that baby but then had to watch it go again—over and over again, for at least eighteen years.
But now, standing in the airport watching Ginger light up with her boys, watching Peter slot in so easily beside her, I realize I may never be what she needs. No matter how badly I want to be.
And yet…as we make plans to head to lunch—Peter has a return flight to Seattle in four hours—it’s me, who Ginger looks over her shoulder at as we leave the airport. It’s me, who she hangs back to walk next to while her boys and her ex walk ahead of us. It’s my pinky she secretly links hers with as we step out into the afternoon sun.
Not Peter. Not her boys. Me. It feels so fucking good to be chosen by this woman. And maybe being chosen is enough.
Ginger
TheboothattheSpinning Pie is crowded with the five of us, the table littered with napkins, crusts, and half-drunk root beers for the boys. Despite the flight, Jordan was wired, and even though Tate was usually the quiet one, they spent the next hour talking over each other as they gave the table a rundown of the last three weeks.
There’s an unusual lull in the chatter when the boys are served their small ice cream sundaes and they dig in.
“What have you got planned for the rest of your time here?”
I finish chewing and wipe my hands on my napkin. “I’m not sure. I promised them some horseback riding, and I know Paige is excited to spend some time with them.”
