Page 18

I turn and find Elio pushing the button to lift the head of his bed up. Easton’s still in the room, but he’s hovering near the edge of the curtain right now, and his gaze is a heavy weight.

“No,” I tell him after a pause. “You’re probably staying overnight.”

“Dad,” he starts to whine, but he stops when I put a hand up.

“I’m not in the mood to do this with you, Elio. I know you didn’t mean to fall in the water, but I also know you know better than to pull some shit like that on your own.”

His gaze narrows. “Other kids go to the park alone all the time.”

“Mhm, and some kids also get kidnapped,” I snap at him. He rolls his eyes, and for a moment, I think it’s better than forcing him to acknowledge that other kids can do it because at twelve, most of them can feed ducks without a drowning incident.

And Elio is perfectly aware that he isn’t like most kids. That he won’t ever be. But sometimes I really am at a fucking loss on how to handle those conversations. I take a deep breath, but before I can say anything, Elio speaks up.

“Will you come visit me while I’m here?”

For a split second, I think he’s talking to me. Then I realize he’s staring at Easton, who clears his throat and casts me a cautious glance before shrugging.

“If my boss doesn’t put my balls in a jar on his desk for not following protocol tonight, I think I can manage it.”

Elio bursts into laughter and slaps a hand over his mouth, and I fight back the urge to yell at Easton for being crass. But fuck me if Elio doesn’t look like he’s enjoying the hell out of this situation.

“I think you can probably still walk without balls.”

Easton gives a dramatic sigh. “Call me when you get kicked in the plums and tell me how you feel.”

Elio grins. “I’ll probably be here tomorrow, if you come by.”

Easton hesitates, then glances at me before nodding. “I’m not off until the day after tomorrow, but I can sneak away for a bit.”

Elio holds out his fist, and Easton bumps it. “Thank you, uh. You know. For everything.”

Easton’s face falls a little, but he doesn’t do more than nod before stepping away, then turning to me. “Walk me out?”

I want to tell him to go fuck himself, but I don’t. I jerk my chin toward the exit, then lead the way faster than he’s walking. I can hear his footsteps behind me, and after we pass into the lobby, he stops.

“You know we’re not racing, right? Like, there won’t be a prize if you make it to the lobby before me?”

I stop in the little entryway between both sets of sliding doors and turn. “I don’t want to be away from him for too long.”

Easton hums as he passes me, then turns to face me. “You think your husband⁠—”

“Ex,” I correct sharply before taking a breath. “The marriage is a technicality.”

Easton’s brows raise. “A what?”

“It means⁠—”

“I know what a technicality means.”

“Then why did you ask?” I snarl. He doesn’t flinch, which is saying something, and to give my hands something to do, I yank my hair down, then tie it back up. I can feel him watching me, and I can’t tell if I hate it or not. “Look, Neal is a…he’s difficult, and our situation is complicated. The divorce has been in progress for…shit.” I try to count the months. “A long fucking time. Every time we get close, he fucks off, and we have to start all over again.”

Easton stares at me for a moment, then nods. “Okay.”

“He doesn’t have anything to do with Elio. I’ve had him living with my parents since Neal rolled back into town, and I’m hoping I can get a court date and end this goddamn madness.” I bite back the rest of my words. Why am I telling him, of all people, these details? I could have left it at Neal and I divorcing, and that would have been enough.

But there’s something about the way Easton is staring at me that makes me want to keep going.

I let out a trembling breath. “I know you must think I’m the most negligent father in the world⁠—”