Page 5 of More Than a Friend
“Sorry to ruin your plans. If you want to trade weekends or take them out on a weekday, you know I’m happy to move the schedule around.”
“It’s fine. I’ll see you in an hour to pick them up.”
“See you then.”
I blow out a breath when the call ends, then walk out of my room to find Gus building a garage with magnetic tiles while Zoe lies on the couch, watchingMoana.
I sit next to Zoe, and she scoots herself up so her head is in my lap. “We going to Daddy’s today?” she asks.
“Yeah, pretty girl. You, Daddy, and Gus are going to have a nice relaxing weekend. Maybe Grandma Jan will come over for a visit.”
Zoe nods, her attention already back on the TV.
I run my fingers through her soft blond strands. She got her hair color from her dad, while Gus got his from me. His thick chestnut hair is getting long enough to cover his eyes, and Imake a mental note to give him a trim next weekend—if he’ll let me.
So much to do, so little time.
I timed the movie perfectly so when the end credits roll, the doorbell rings. Gus jumps up from his spot and follows me to greet his dad
When I open the door for my ex-husband, I do what I always do when I see him: I try to find the spark of attraction I used to feel. The butterflies that would erupt in my stomach when I would look at him. But I don’t find any of it.
All I see is the same bright blond hair and blue eyes he and Zoe share, and the nose almost identical to Gus’s. He’s older, more refined than the boy I fell for at eighteen, but the feelings I had are no longer there.
It’s as scary as it is relieving. It makes me wonder if I ever loved him the way I should have or if I was pressured into it because of how I was raised.
I’ll forever be grateful for my kids, but I feel like I missed out on some defining years. Because I got married so young, I never got to experience life the way most people do in their early twenties. I never went out dancing with friends or drinking on my twenty-first birthday. I don’t think Shea and I had a honeymoon phase like other couples. We coexisted and had sex when he was in the mood. We never had the “can’t keep our hands off each other” excitement like most couples do.
“Hi, Daddy!”
Shea smiles as Gus jumps into his arms. “Hey, bud. You ready for a fun weekend?”
“Yep! Zoe was sick, but now she’s better. Just tired. We’re supposed to help her rest.”
“Got it. I thought we could build a fort and have a movie day tomorrow. How does that sound?”
“Fun! Do we have to go to church on Sunday? I don’t want to. I think we should stay home since Zoe is sick.”
Shea gives me an exasperated look, but I just shrug. He knows my stance on the church, and if he wants to fight with them every other Sunday to sit still for two hours, then it’s his choice.
Shea sighs. “We’ll see how Zoe is feeling. Why don’t you get your bag?”
“Okay!” Gus runs to his room, and Shea comes in so I can close the door.
“You can’t keep doing this, Ava. You can’t keep bad-mouthing the church to him. He’s six,” Shea scolds quietly.
“You’re right, he’ssix.He has questions, and I answer them in as neutral of a way as possible. He doesn’t need to blindly follow everything he’s taught. That’s not the kind of person I want to raise.”
This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation, and I’m sure it won’t be the last, especially since Gus is less than two years away from being at the “age of accountability,” and Shea will want him to be baptized. I’m not looking forward to that particular conversation or the battle which will inevitably ensue.
I’m saved from further conversation by Zoe padding over to Shea and holding her arms up for him.
“Hey, baby girl. You feeling better?”
Zoe nods.
“I’ll go grab her bag so you can get home before traffic gets too bad.”
I run into the kids’ shared room, once again wishing I could afford a bigger apartment so everyone could have their own space. Shea still lives in our three-bedroom townhome in Draper, and I envy him for it. I couldn’t afford the mortgage on my salary, so I let him keep it to make sure the kids have somewhere familiar.
