Page 40 of One Pucking Secret
I glance down through the glass, where vibrant mounds of frozen colors rest, catching the reflection of their shared smiles. Their connection—rooted in a mutual loveof marshmallows and nuts wrapped in chocolate—feels deeper than I expected.
“My treat,” Wyatt insists, and I simply nod. “You want one?”
“No, thanks,” I tell him. “You two go ahead.”
After Wyatt pays, we retreat to a corner secluded from the rest of the patrons, a tiny haven in the sea of tables and chattering customers. Jasper licks his cone with gusto, eyes wide and sparkling, while Wyatt peppers him with questions that feel more like the easy toss of a ball than an interrogation.
“What kind of sports do you like?” Wyatt asks, leaning forward with genuine interest.
“Baseball… and swimming,” Jasper replies between licks, the ice cream already smudging his cheek.
“Same here,” Wyatt chuckles, pointing to himself. “And I play hockey.”
“I love hockey. I’ve always wanted to learn how to play.”
“Really? Maybe I can teach you sometime.” He locks eyes with Jasper, a silent understanding passing through their shared gaze. “Isn’t it funny that we have so much in common?”
Jasper nods, his mouth forming a contemplative ‘O’ as he processes this revelation. “That is a little funny.”
Wyatt laughs, the sound filling our corner, warm and bright. As they banter, an ache blooms in my chest—a bouquet of regret and resolve. With each shared laugh, each mirrored gesture, the truth becomes clearer: Jasper has been missing this—the connection, the father figure he never knew he needed.
I fidget with my fingers, the weight of what might have been pressing down on me. Vowing silently, I let the conviction cement itself within me. No matter the tangle of feelings between Wyatt and me, Jasper’s happiness will stand paramount. He won’t lose Wyatt again—not if I can help it.
When the last bites of pistachio ice cream are consumed, we stand, chairs scraping softly against the shop’s tiled floor. We make our way out into the glow of the golden hour, where shadows stretch long and the air holds the promise of evening coolness. Jasper skips ahead, his energy unfazed by the day’s adventures.
“Remember to thank Wyatt,” I remind Jasper gently as we approach the sleek lines of Wyatt’sSUV, a stark contrast from my practical sedan parked beside his.
“Thanks for hanging out with me today and for the ice cream!” Jasper’s voice rings clear, carrying the weightless joy only a child can muster.
Wyatt crouches down to Jasper’s level, his blue eyes crinkling behind those dark sunglasses. “It was great to get to know you, Jasper. Hopefully we can hang out a bit more soon.”
“Yes!” Jasper nods vigorously, a wide grin revealing the gap of a recently lost tooth.
My hands move methodically, securing Jasper in his booster seat, the click of the buckle grounding me. I cast a glance at Wyatt, who stands with his hands shoved casually in his pockets. “We’ll do this again soon, then?” My words hang between us, hopeful yet hesitant.
“We’ll schedule something.” Wyatt’s nod is curt, businesslike, though his gaze lingers on Jasper for a moment longer.
“Okay.” The word is a whisper of acquiescence, tinged with the unspoken yearnings of my heart. I close the door to Jasper’s chatter about monkey bars and superheroes, sealing him in his small fortress.
“Goodbye, Wyatt.” My farewell is soft, brief and devoid of the warmth I wish I could pour into it.
“Bye, Chloe.” His response mirrors mine, a reflection without depth.
I slide into the driver’s seat, the leather cool against my skin. The rearview mirror grants me one last glimpse of Wyatt, swallowed by the encroaching dusk. My heart beats a silent rhythm of hope and hesitation, willing him to stop us, to offer more than a casual goodbye. But he doesn’t, and with a sigh, I ignite the engine and pull away.
The road stretches out before us, and I focus on the journey ahead, each mile a step toward a future where Jasper knows the bond of father and son. It’s a path I’m determined to pave for them, no matter the uncertainty that lies in my own heart.
Chapter 14
Wyatt
Today’s not just anyday—it’s Disneyland day. I plan out the logistics. Water bottles—check. Snacks that won’t melt or crumble—check. A mental list forms, and it’s as if I can already hear the laughter, see the bright colors of the park, and smell the sugary scent of churros in the air.
Something else is on my mind, though: forgiving Chloe. Witnessing how great of a mother she is to Jasper, the way she smooths his hair, laughs with him like they share a secret world. But the ache lingers, a jagged edge of betrayal that cuts deeper with each passing thought.
I missed out on moments I’ll never get back—his first steps, his first words. The weight of that loss lingers, a constant reminder of the trust she shattered. Every glance she gives me makes my chest tighten. I’m trying. But I’m still not sure if I can trust her again. Not yet.
Getting dressed, I opt for comfort with a soft tee that fits just right and cargo shorts with enough pockets to stash away the day’s necessities. Jasper’s wide-eyed excitement flashes through my mind, and I can’t help but smile. The kid’s not only the spitting image of me, but he’s also inherited my athletic genes, as I’ve learned after countless park outings. Even though this is completely new territory for me, it feels right, like finding something I never knew was missing.
