Page 37 of Big Bad Single Wolf Dad

I realize in frustration that my own insecurities have driven a wedge between us that, at this point, I don’t even know how to move past. Asking him outright how committed he is seems too needy, too desperate. It’s probably a conversation we should have had a week ago, but now with the distance between us, I’m not certain what he’d even say. And I’m definitely not sure I want to hear his answer.

How could I ask him to prove his devotion to me when I’m barely speaking to him? But how do we hold this together when I can’t seem to look him in the eye without doubting him, either?

The feeling only grows a few days later when we go bowling. This time Greg doesn’t even try to kiss me hello. Instead, he greets me with a light hug, the same one he gives the kids. The acute distance between us makes my heart ache, even though I know I deserve it.

The hug brings all my fears about being hurt, being left, being abandoned, to the fore, and only confirms that maybe I shouldn’t be getting too attached here.

But then, when I get a strike, Greg picks me up and spins me around in his arms.

It’s like a constant battle between closeness and distance, and I can’t even tell which of us is turning away more, him or me.

I watch as Greg takes his turn, his broad shoulders and tall frame reminding me of a mountain. Only he moves with remarkable grace. I’m suddenly struck by how solid he seems, how stable, how reliable.

As I watch my kids cheering Greg on, my heart breaks a little. I don’t want them to get their hopes up, only to have them dashed.

But as Greg gets a spare, they clap and cheer for him. He turns with a huge grin on his face as each of the five kids gives him a high five.

Once Lily gets up to take her turn, Greg comes and sits beside me.

“Having fun?” he asks, and I can see he’s trying.

But I still can’t bring myself to be too vulnerable with him and I resolve to keep the conversation light.

“Yeah, it’s great,” I say simply, keeping my eyes on Lily instead of Greg.

“I used to go bowling all the time when I was a kid,” he tells me, trying to catch my eye. “It was one of my favorite things. But you’re kicking my ass. You have a lot of practice?”

I can tell he’s trying to take the conversation a little deeper. At least, as deep as a conversation in a crowded bowling alley can go. But I’m still wary.

I try though, and start to tell him all about my bowling-league-qualifying uncle who taught me his best tricks. Even as I talk, the words feel hollow, like the amazing connection we once had is dead for sure. I guess sharing too much feels like another small step toward entwining myself with him, which is way too risky. So I fill the air with meaningless conversation, and I think we both know it.

It’s not until the date is over and I’m back home with the kids that the sadness of all this hits me. If what Eric says is true, then I have too much to lose. Even if I do really like Greg.

And even if it’s not true, I’m just not sure we can save this. It feels like a house of cards that has already fallen, and the damage is done. Our relationship was too fresh, too new, too innocent to recover from all this angst and distrust between us so soon.

The realization is hard for me to swallow, as I know I could easily fall for him if I let myself. He’s handsome, funny, and smart. He’s kind and great with the kids. He’s confident and strong and sure of himself. All things I want in a man.

I go to bed that night feeling an ache in my heart as I grapple with these two warring thoughts — the feelings I’m clearly developing for Greg alongside the fear of being hurt and the fact that this fear has caused me to ruin everything.

As hard as I try to push my worries away, it still takes me a long time to fall asleep.

20

GREG

“Four twenty-one, four twenty-one,” I mutter to myself as I cruise down the street, searching for the address the private investigator gave me.

This part of town is unknown to me, but the house’s inhabitant isn’t. When I finally spot the place, my face twists into a scowl.

Eric is one of those people I’ve seen around. By virtue of being a parent, I end up getting to know a lot of other parents and even if we don’t interact with each other in any other context, that’s enough for me to have a pretty good idea of the kind of person he is.

He’s someone who snaps at his kids when they misbehave, who obnoxiously argues with other parents at the PTO meetings over things he probably doesn’t even care about, who makes thinly-veiled snide remarks about other kids’ science fair projects.

And, I know now he’s the kind of guy who’s getting in the way of what I want.

As I stride up to Eric’s front door, I feel a mixture of anger and determination growing inside me. I’ve had some people digging into just what’s going on here, and I’ve learned Eric has been sending Sarah flowers and gifts. I’m here to tell him to back off. The thought of him being the other man sends a wave of nausea through me. He’s graduated from irritating fellow parent to the single biggest threat in my life.

I press the doorbell and stew, playing out the conversation we’re about to have a thousand times in my head. I’ll tell him to stay away from Sarah, he’ll tell me she’s his girl, and maybe a fistfight will ensue. I don’t know. But I’m ready for anything.

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