Page 93 of Letting Go at 40

“I didn’t mean any disrespect. To you or Mom.” Bryce looks at his mother, eyes bloodshot with dark bags beneath them.

“I’d ask why you said them but I’m afraid your answer will be because you were drunk which is no excuse.” Hurt fills Anna’s tone. She’s surprisingly calm.

Without thinking, I place a hand on her lower back and Bryce catches the movement.

“Sometimes there’s truth in what drunk people say, though.” Bryce glances at me and then back to his mom.

“Like what?” Anna asks Bryce, irritation growing in her voice.

Bryce looks at me, his gaze steady on mine. For a moment, I feel like I’m in an old Western film, where the two guys stare each other down, not wanting to pull the gun first, but knowing duty calls. Defend someone’s honor.

“What if I did want to date your mother?” I ask.

“Mason!” Anna shrieks, turning on me, but I keep my focus on Bryce.

Man up, little boy. Tell me how you really feel.

My eyes narrow, warning him to be careful how he answers in front of his mother. He can tell me to my face to fuck off, but he should probably not use that language before his parent.

“If it means you’ll be sticking around, I don’t have a problem.”

“Yeah?” His answer surprises me but then I’m reminded of the conversation we had that first Thanksgiving where Bryce told me how upset he was at my disappearance. How he felt like he’d suffered two losses, only I’d willingly left him.

I never intended to hurt him. I’d never leave if I have the chance to stay.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I hold his gaze. This seventeen-year-old might actually understand I’m in love with his mom.

Well, shit.

“Does Calvin know?” I ask, having a private conversation with Bryce as we stare at one another.

“Know what?” Anna asks, turning on me again.

Bryce dips his head once before his mother turns back to him. “It’s a reason he wanted me to apologize to both of you.”

“Fair enough,” I say as Anna’s mouth is opening but it snaps shut when I continue. “We got an understanding, now? Man to man.”

Bryce tips his head, while Anna looks between us. “What’s going on?”

“I think so,” Bryce says, his voice sheepish.

“You can come to me with questions.” Or reservations. Or confusion. But somehow, I think he gets it. Needing to change the subject and check in with him on another topic, I ask, “How did things go with Ryleigh?”

“She flirted with Calvin.”

“Damn. It’s always the brother,” I tease.

“Or the best friend?” Bryce tips up a brow, but his forehead furrows like the movement hurts his entire hungover head.

I make a fist and stab at my heart, but Bryce smiles at me, shaking his head.

“We good here,” I point between Anna and Bryce, making certain those two are the ones who have apologized and forgiven.

Bryce looks at his mom again, eyes welling. Maybe a little in contrition. A little in pain. Hangovers suck at any age.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she warns.

Yeah, probably not a promise he can make her but maybe he can hold off until he’s away at college, or better yet, over the legal drinking age.