Page 80 of The Logic of Loyalty

“Trevor.” That was breathy too. Hell. “What’s up? What do you need?”

He clears his throat. “I would like to drive Jacob to school from now on, if that’s alright with you? Like I used to?”

“I don’t want you to bring⁠—”

“Just pick him up. I won’t cook you all breakfast every time.” He’s silent for a beat. “I still think you should at least accept food drop-offs.”

“No, thank you, Trevor.” A murmured protest comes from his side of the call. “I’m not as sick anymore. Anyway, Bethany and I are going to The Tea after Jacob leaves for school. She loves it there, and so do I. Also, your kid prefers the school breakfast options.” The weirdo.

“Alright. Okay. I understand. But can I? Take him?” The hope in his voice kills me. I’m not trying to keep him from his child. But you did keep him from your last appointment. A little annoying voice reminds me, inconveniently.

“Of course you can, but Trevor …” I think about how busy he was the last few months, “Don’t make any promises that you cannot⁠—”

“I won’t. I mean. I will keep this promise. Things are changing, baby—er, Paige.”

I sigh. “When are you starting this?”

“Today?”

“That won’t work. You’d need to call the bus garage earlier than that, and the buses have already started their routes outside town.”

“Damn.” The sound of a blinker plays over the phone, and I have a feeling he was already heading this way. “Well, that’s fine. Tomorrow? I’ll call the school and make the switch, if that’s alright with you?”

“I said it was. Jacob will love it, but I won’t be the one to tell him.” As if he heard his name, Jacob comes stomping down the steps, a sleepy-looking Bethany following closely behind. Away from the phone, I greet my oldest. “Hey, sweetheart. Can I have a good morning hug?”

Jacob rolls his eyes and drops his book bag on the couch beside me, but then he throws his arms around my shoulders. “Good morning, Mom.”

I hug him back. “Good morning, son.”

“Good morning, son!” Trevor’s voice is audible through the phone, and Jacob perks right up.

“Dad?”

“Yes. He’s on the phone.” I hate this feeling. I hate this guilt.

“Can I talk to him, Paige?”

“Let me talk to him!”

Both Whitaker boys speak at the same time, so I give Jacob the phone.

“Hey, Dad! Good morning!”

“Good morning, Bud. How are—” Trevor’s voice fades as Jacob takes my phone further away. The giant grin on his face is a small wound on my heart. Am I doing the right thing?

A hand clamps onto my leg and squeezes tight. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re not doing anything wrong. Get out of your head.” She pats me twice, then lets go. “You’re taking care of a lot right now, alright?”

“I sent him away from his son. You know they’ve been inseparable since he was born⁠—”

“You never said anything about how he could or could not spend time with your son. They have a special bond. I just don’t think you’re doing anything wrong in protecting your own heart.”

“Mom! Mom, can Dad take me to school?” Jacob calls from the kitchen, his legs swinging from the tall stool. Before I get a chance to answer, he starts talking into the phone again. “What? Why not? He listens again, but his now familiar scowl builds on his face. “That’s dumb.” He tenses then loosens, his shoulders dropping low. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said it’s dumb. Dad, when are you coming home?” I hear the tears in his voice when he asks, and I fall against Bethany’s side.

“Bethany …” My eyes fill, but I blink those babies back. I cannot cry right now. Later. I can do it later.

“I know, honey.” She grips my hand. “It’s normal, and it’s complicated.”

“Okay, Dad. I love you too.” He sniffles, and my bruised heart cracks. “Yeah, I’ll give her the phone. I love you too. Yes, please.” Jacob drips from the stool and walks slowly to me, dragging his feet the entire way. “Here, Mom. I’m going to go wait for the bus on the porch.” He grabs the backpack, throwing it over his shoulder, and mopes to the door.