“I miss my friends in Atlanta, but it’s been peaceful here. No traffic or loud horns. We have an open backyard with rolling hills beyond that. Jacob’s enjoying it, and I’m happy to be home.” I smile wistfully as we walk next to each other.
We cross the street, reaching the Better Buzz, and she holds the door open for me. I take a deep breath as we get in line to order, the smell of coffee beans wafting around us.
“Well, it helps to have a good-looking guy like Dax around too.”
My cheeks immediately blush, and my mouth hangs open. “He and I are just friends.” I sputter on the last word, cringing. I don’t know what we are anymore. We haven’t spoken much, not since I visibly crushed his heart with only a few sentences.
I don’t know if we’re even still friends.
“Of course.” Sidney holds her hands up, her lips twitching. “Even though that’s not what’s been going around town.”
I shift, my face on fire. “What do you mean?”
“People talk, honey, but it’s nothing to get worked up about. It’s just Cathy and her blabbering mouth.” She places a sympathetic hand on my forearm. “Hell, it’s only gossip. That’s better than finding a picture of you kissing a hot guy on the front page of Sunnyville Gazette.”
“That happened to you?”
“Oh, yes. A lovely shot of Grayson tilting me backward in a—might I say—heated kiss back when he didn’t even like me.” Hands on her hips, she rolls her eyes. “Of course, he was so attracted to me but didn’t want to admit it.”
I giggle, immediately relieved.
It’s our turn to order, and once we’re done, we scoot to the side while they prepare our lattes.
“Sometimes, the stress of doing it all can be so hard,” she says. “I didn’t realize how difficult it is to be a working mom until I became one.”
“Oh, I know.”
“People don’t talk about mom guilt, but we really should. Sometimes, I wish I could bring Luke to work with me just to have that extra time with him.”
“I wish. I went to drinks a few weeks ago, but I stressed over it for hours.” I exhale.
I’m still stressing. About everything. About Dax. About hurting Jacob. Guilty about Mitch.
The guilt has been gnawing at me like a squirrel chewing on wood—it’s making me nauseous.
“I feel like I’m not enough,” I whisper. “I’m trying to be both parents for Jacob, and when I fall short, I feel like such a failure.”
She offers an understanding smile. “Sometimes, it’s enough just to hold your kid, and the rest fades. It’s hard, but that’s the best advice my mom has given me.” She squeezes my shoulder. “You can’t be super mom every day. You still need to take care of yourself, so you can be the best mom for him.”
“Thank you.” I place my hand on hers. “It’s nice to talk to someone who gets it, but I’m sorry to unload like this. It’s very unprofessional.”
“Don’t even. I know I’m technically your boss, but here”—she points around the café—“we can simply be two working moms, who are friends.”
Our names are called, signaling our orders are ready. With coffees in hand, we head back to work. On the way, I tilt my head up, enjoying the early afternoon sun.
When we reach our office building, she pauses and turns me to face her. “If you ever need anything, please let me know. You have my number and address, and you know where I work.” She squeezes my upper arms. “You’re doing a great job as a mother, photographer, and woman. You’re very strong.”
My shoulders sag. “Thank you.”
Sometimes, all you need is to hear you’re doing okay. Something that simple can brighten your mood.
I get to work with newfound vigor, not having realized how badly I needed a pep talk from another mother. But I feel rejuvenated now. The stress of everything else melts away for the next hour, after which I finally check my phone.
No sign of Dax.
We haven’t texted much. Most of our messages since I stood him up have been about Jacob.
I invited him to his birthday party too. Although Dax said he’ll be there, I’m starting to worry he won’t.
There’s been a knot in my stomach since that night, since I pushed him away. I keep telling myself I’m doing the right thing, but why can’t I stop thinking about our night together?
Why can’t I stop thinking about Dax?
Nineteen
Dax
“Whoa, who pissed in your Cheerios?” Willow’s chair comes to a squeaking stop as she joins me at my table.
I groan and set my beer down.
“Well?”
“Nothing. No one. I’m good.” I rub my hands down my face. “Just didn’t feel like sitting alone in my sad house tonight.”
“Where’s Clara?” She looks around the bar like she’s going to appear.
Like she’s going to float in and smile and kiss me and be with me, as a friend or more. I’d take either at this point.
I haven’t seen her or talked to her much since she stood me up, and it’s been hell.
I take a gulp of my beer. “She’s not here.” Willow raises her eyebrows in question, but instead of answering her, I change the subject. “What’re you doing here, anyway? Loud bars aren’t exactly your thing.”
“As a matter of fact, Zach and I wanted to switch things up.” She shrugs, leaving it at that, but I won’t bite.
“Who called you?”
“What?” she asks innocently.
“Staci? Brooks? Did they both call you?”
“No. Zach and I simply wanted to get out of the house.”
Just then, Zach appears with two beers. He sets one in front of her, then takes the seat across from me in the booth. “Hey, Dax. I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
His voice is a little too calm and unconvincing.
“And I thought Willow
