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Carson looks at Connor’s hopeful eyes, “Sure, why not? Pizza for dinner tonight.”
I hide a grin and add, “I like anything. Except anchovies.”
Carson grins back. “I’ll order two pizzas. One pepperoni and one with meat and vegetables.”
He pulls out his phone and calls in the order, “One small pepperoni. No, wait. Make that a medium pepperoni and a large Super Supreme…”
I look at Connor, “Why don’t you take a shower while we wait for the pizza?”
Connor mumbles an agreement and heads down the hallway.
A few minutes later, Carson and Connor both join me at the table, looking freshly showered, hair damp but combed.
Right on cue, the doorbell rings, and Carson gets the pizza and brings it to the table.
“Connor quickly grabs a slice of gooey cheese and pepperoni and takes a huge bite. “I love pizza,” he says with his mouth half full. I give him a warning look, which he ignores with a grin and finishes chewing.
“Sorry,” he mumbles before taking another giant bite.
Carson opens the second box, and I take a slice while Carson grabs two slices. The only sounds are the satisfying crunch as we all enjoy the hot, cheesy pizzas in front of us.
Finally, with three slices in his stomach, Connor breaks the silence.
“What are we doing tomorrow?” He asks with wide, expectant eyes as he looks at Carson.
I bite my lips with a grin as I glance down at my plate without lifting my eyes. I feel Carson glance at me for help, but I keep my eyes downcast.
“Um, I’m not sure. I’m still thinking it over.” He leans forward and asks Connor, “What do you normally do for fun?”
Connor answers quickly, “I like to ride my bike. Jeff and I used to play basketball, but he’s in Lauderdale. I like video games and music. Some movies, but not the boring ones Mom likes to watch. I normally have practice after school.” He shrugs.
“What sports are you interested in?” Carson asks, genuinely curious.
Connor’s eyes light up, “I like track and basketball mainly. I like to run. I’m fast. That’s something I can do by myself. Basketball, I can practice by myself, but it’s funner with more people.”
“More fun,” I automatically correct him.
“Yeah, it’s more fun with a team or Jeff…” he looks over at Carson with a bit of longing in his eyes.
Carson immediately says, “I like to play basketball. We can do a little one-on-one tomorrow.”
Connor’s eyes go wide, and he grins, “Cool.” Then he gives a small frown, “Can I meet my grandma?” Suddenly, he looks uncertain.
I quickly glance at Carson, but he must have seen the vulnerability in our son’s eyes as he says with utter confidence, “Of course. She’ll insist on seeing you.” He leans forward as if telling my son a secret. “I selfishly didn’t want to share you with my family yet. You can meet her tomorrow.”
Connor’s cheeks get rosy, and his eyes go wide; he looks down with a sheepish grin, “Yeah, it would be really cool to meet my grandma.”
“I’ll clear the table; you guys go check out what’s streaming on TV.”
As I put the dishes in the dishwasher and wrap up any leftovers, I listen to them both discuss the merits of what’s available to watch. They have similar tastes, and I shrug, refusing to be offended that they don’t like the Hallmark channel or RomComs. It’s a male thing. At least I can still read romance books on my e-reader if I’m going to be now surrounded by so much testosterone.
A pang of jealousy shoots through me as I listen to them bond. I quickly tamp it down, reminding myself that this is what’s best for Connor. But I still feel the sharp tug in my heart at having to share my son with someone else. Even if that person is his father and has every right to be a part of Connor’s life, it still causes an unfamiliar ache.
My hand hesitates as I hit the cycle button on the dishwasher. I hear the chugging of the motor and the swish of the water. My life is changing, morphing into something unfamiliar. The loneliness I’ve grown accustomed to feels different now, sharper somehow.
I blink away sentimental tears as a part of me wonders, ‘What about me’? I’ll be left living a second-hand life with a man who’s only interested in having me around for his son. Will it make a difference even if he agrees to call a truce? I doubt it. Carson’s been carrying the weight of what he thinks is my betrayal for far too many years.
He thinks it’s my fault, and it is. I should have immediately told him I was married and the circumstances of my marriage in name only. But I was too busy wearing rose-colored glasses and falling head over heels in love.
