Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
“We did,” I say, unsure where this is going.
The next photo is a picture of us at the Ice Spectacle. “And here is Exhibit D. We all went to New York together,” he adds.
Then Luna is practically bouncing and…
Oh, fuck.
Everything snaps into place. How did I not see this sooner? They’re onto us. But I steal a look at Sabrina, and she’s tight, tense.
This is bad. I should stop this. “Kids—” I begin.
But they’re running the show. Luna straightens her spine and cuts in. “And we know you two like each other, so this is why we think it’s time for you to get married.”
44
ABORT MISSION
Tyler
A sharp laugh sputters from me. “Are you serious?”
Luna blinks.
Parker furrows his brow.
Sabrina rolls her lips, but her blue eyes flash with something closer to alarm than mirth. No—not just alarm. This is abort-mission levels of panic.
“Yes, we’re serious,” Luna says, more emotional than I’d expected.
Ah, hell. She really means this. The crease in Parker’s forehead tells me he does too.
“We thought—” Parker starts.
Sabrina jumps in, her voice bright—too bright. “Kids, maybe this isn’t the best time.”
But what I hear is—there will never be a good time for this.
My thoughts spin out. Did I misread her? Misjudge everything? My kids, at least—that’s the only thing I might be able to fix. So I try, turning to the two little people who depend on me, their faces confused. “That’s not how it happens,” I explain. “People don’t just get married because—”
Because what, idiot?
“But don’t you two like each other?” Luna asks, so guileless. So damn innocent. And it’s moments like this that remind me—she’s still just a kid.
A kid with big dreams. Kid dreams. Not teenage dreams. Not adult ones.
“Of course we do,” I say, because I’m not going to lie about that.
But a quiet voice inside me whispers—While I was busy protecting the kids and Sabrina, did I ever stop to consider she might not see a future with me?
That being crazy for someone isn’t the same as…whatever this family thing is that I want?
My pulse spikes. She’s already been pulling away from me—has been ever since I returned home tonight.
“Then what’s the issue?” Luna presses.
That’s a damn good question.
I’d thought I had a handle on this in Cozy Valley. I was gearing up to tackle things properly. But now? Now I feel like I’m not just back at the starting line—I’m not even on the damn track.
I steal a glance at the woman I adore. She’s standing tall, shoulders back, chin up.
Like she would after finishing a routine. Is this the Sabrina who landed every routine under pressure, who never let a stumble show? Not the Sabrina who melted in my arms every time I touched her?
And have I misread her too? Was she ever wanting the same thing I was? My mind is reeling and I can’t even grasp at answers.
But I try. “That’s just not how it works,” I say to the kids, my voice sharper than I’d intended. I need to cut this conversation off before it spirals further.
Sabrina takes another step back, her posture shifting, and my gaze snaps to her. Her face is unreadable, but there’s something off in her eyes. Like she’s holding back more than just words. She looks to the kids, “This really seems like something you should discuss with your father. I’m going to let you all have some family time.”
Then she’s gone, her footsteps fast fading down the stairs.
She leaves—because she can.
But I stay because that’s my job—them. And it’s a job I love, but now I’m left alone standing here—staring at the huge dinner she’s cooked with two confused kids and one colossal mess of a problem.
I drag a hand over my beard. “We should eat,” I mutter.
“But, Dad,” Luna presses, just shy of whining. “Why can’t you two?”
Ah, hell. I can’t brush them off. They’ve put together a whole damn PowerPoint.
I exhale heavily, trying—really trying—to explain. “It’s not that easy, kids. You don’t go from liking someone to getting married.”
“Fine,” Parker says, with a thoughtful sigh. Then—“So what are you two? Boyfriend-girlfriend?”
Are we even that?
In my rush to tell her how I felt in New York, I never actually put a label on us. I insisted we keep things quiet. Said we’d figure out how to tell the kids on our terms.
And yet—here they are, telling me their terms. They want us to get married.
By keeping quiet, I let it get to this point where my kids have completely misunderstood things. But maybe…so did I.
My chest hollows out as my gaze instinctively drifts toward the hallway. Toward the space where she walked away. The hall’s empty now, without her. And, so am I.
But for the first time, a thought crashes into my mind, heavy and suffocating. Maybe she was never mine to have.