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“Of course he matters. It will affect all of us. Maybe the damage is already done, already splintering us, who knows. She’s hurting now, and if we don’t get past this, I broke her heart. If we do get past this, he’ll be pissed that I’m with her, probably just waiting for me to fuck up and break her heart. Either way, I’m screwed.”
“Conor’s a smart guy.”
I look up and throw my hands in the air. “It’s that kinda shit response that’s only making me angrier.”
“Sorry.” He shrugs.
“Henry,” I say, growing more and more irritated.
He chuckles and sits up. “Listen. It’s only been hours, and it’s six a.m. on a Sunday. Give it a day. Or two. Whatever you need. Time and distance can change a lot in your head.”
“You want me to feel like this for days?”
He rolls his eyes. “I hate to break it to you, but if you don’t get past this with her, that feeling of dread and longing and yes, heartbreak, is going to last a lot longer than twenty-four hours.”
I slouch down into the chair with a groan. “That girl you were saying had to find herself…how long did that feeling last for you?”
He huffs and shakes his head. “It’s still there. Sure, it’s dulled a little. The edges aren’t quite as sharp. But it can resurface with a vengeance at the mere mention of her name or a flash of her picture.”
“I’m screwed then!” I scrub my hands down my face. “You should’ve warned me.”
“Warned you?”
“Yeah, friend to friend.”
“What would you have done?”
What would I have done? I’m not sure. Stopped seeing her. But looking back, I never would’ve listened to him anyway.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he says.
A bedroom door creaks open, and Bodhi comes out wearing the same pajamas I saw him in in the middle of the night. His new firefighter hat is on his head.
“Did I wake you, buddy?” I ask, earning a death glare from Henry.
“I can’t sleep.” He climbs onto Henry’s lap, laying his head on his chest.
Damn it, what is this new feeling in my chest? I’ve never wanted kids, but I wouldn’t mind a little cuddle right now myself.
Henry points for the blanket behind my head, and I pick it up and toss it to him. He lays it over Bodhi. “If you want my advice?—”
“It’s the reason I’m here.”
“Give it a little bit. You’ll get the clarity you need. Let the anger simmer down so you can think rationally.” He runs his hand over his son’s shoulders, and he kisses the top of Bodhi’s head.
We sit there, him watching his son and me watching the two of them. I have to give it to Henry. Who adopts a kid who needs a home when he’s a young professional hockey player? An amazing person, that’s who.
Bodhi bolts up, his eyes open, and the blanket falls to his lap. “Where’s Leigh?”
Just when she wasn’t at the forefront of my mind.
“She’s…” I start, but what do I tell him?
“She was sad when the fireman was here. Did you make her sad?” His blue eyes stare at me, and I hate the feeling of disappointing him.
“No, he didn’t,” Henry answers for me.
“Did you break up?” The worry lines on Bohdi’s forehead just about do me in.
