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He texts back immediately.
Nathan: Finally! Though if I knew you’d be moving, I would have bought that house for Kiersten.
Me: 0/10 would recommend. Needs a heavy dose of sage to clear out Nora’s demons. Also twofold question. I’m also needing a hookup for Evie.
Nathan: You want to set her up on a date with my real estate agent? He’s a little old.
Me: No, you fucker. She needs her own place to live.
The blazing heat I feel at his innocuous text should tell me everything about where I stand with this woman.
Nathan: She doesn’t have one already?
Shit. I revealed more than I intended.
Me: Hers was temporary while she settled in. Now
she needs somewhere more permanent.
He responds with the local number. I add the digits to my contacts before tapping over to the other text.
Evie: Doing my daily rounds before anyone sends out a search squad. Eric and Caiti landed safely. I’m going to Cami’s for a few hours to help her deep clean.
Me: Appreciate the update. Call me when you’re done.
Evie:…space, remember?
Me: Hey, you reached out first with your daily agenda. I’m just reminding you where I stand.
My stance becomes more apparent to me by the minute.
I spent years of my life with one woman. We were young and crazy, and our foundation was based on mutual attraction rather than common interests. We should have grown up together. Our trajectory’s proven we only grew apart.
All the women who filled the void were based on mutual attraction too.
The difference I feel with Evie is startling. Attraction brought me to her car in the parking lot, but her humor and zest kept me coming around. The easy banter was a juicy cherry I couldn’t resist.
Being single in my thirties means I know more about who I am and what I want. What I don’t. Nora’s gifted me an extensive list of traits to avoid. The ones that don’t mesh with mine.
Selfishness.
Narcissistic.
Compassionless and apathetic.
Nora couldn’t be bothered to ask about my day after fifteen years together. Evie’s known me a few weeks and tears up at the thought of my son not having his mom. She cares. She simply fucking cares.
I glance over at my son happily racing cars across the carpet. His sandy hair sticks up in all directions, and remnants of a graham cracker contaminate the corner of his mouth. For months, all I wanted was to be back in this house with him, with his toys and in his space. I finally have what I want, and I can’t sit here another minute. Not while something is missing.
“Want to go for a car ride, bub?”
I heft myself from sitting on the floor with the groan all thirty-somethings make. It’d do me well to get back to using a gym before I’m old and rusty. A reminder that I have one in this house, and I plan to give up such a luxury.
Tommy drops his cars. “Yah, Dah.”
I scoop him up with an exaggerated groan. “When did you get so big and heavy?” I ask, pretending to drop him every few steps. His happy giggles settle deep within my soul. I hope I never forget these sounds.
His shoes give him a mighty struggle, and I wait patiently for him to figure it out.
