How much do I tell him? How do I keep my son from getting hurt?

I gulp, then rub my hands together. “About that, it was just a silly mistake.”

“You don’t have to lie. I know he got mad, and that’s why he’s not coming over.”

“Dax loves you. No matter what argument he and I get into, he will always be there for you.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“He didn’t have to.” I smile.

“I like having him around. He makes you happy, and he makes me feel like I have a dad again, even though I miss my dad.”

I get up to hug him, holding him close. Desperately.

“I miss him too, honey,” I whisper in his hair as my eyes water.

“I don’t like when you cry.”

I laugh, letting him wipe my tears. “I’ll try not to do that anymore.”

He gives me a small smile, and it warms my heart. He doesn’t immediately start on his homework, seemingly distracted by the backyard and the clouds rolling in for a light shower.

It’s supposed to rain tonight and tomorrow, but I hope he doesn’t let it ruin his mood. Before I stand, I think of ways to cheer him up when the showers start. Maybe make apple cider and watch movies. Maybe even invite Luke over for indoor camping.

For now, I give Jacob space as he works through his moment. Without another word, I go to the refrigerator to start on dinner.

After a few minutes of silence, I ask him, “How does baked chicken and potatoes sound? I’ll make it just like Andrew did the other day, with olive oil, oregano, and lemon juice.”

He licks his lips and nods. But he still has that faraway look about him, his eyebrows furrowed like he’s solving a math problem in his head. It’s the same expression I get when I’m planning my schedule for the week.

As I work on dinner, my mind races with thoughts of Dax and Jacob’s obviously broken heart.

And it’s my fault. Dax isn’t coming over because of me.

This is why I didn’t go on a date with Dax all those weeks ago.

It’s part of the reason I was scared.

Dax was right when he said I wasn’t ready, then.

But I want to be.

Being without him this week has made me realize how happy Dax makes not only me, but Jacob too. The other night, my family felt complete, and previously, that had been with Mitch.

It’s why I called Dax by Mitch’s name. It was out of habit, not wholeness.

Dax is the one I want now. He fits us and completes our family.

Even more so, he is enough, and I need to figure out a way to fix this.

I need to convince Dax that he’s more than enough for us.

If only he forgives me for my mistake.

Twenty-Nine

Dax

“We have a favor to ask.”

I study my sister over my glass of water, trying to gauge if this is a good thing or not. “Okay,” I draw out.

I lean in to hear her response over the crew of construction workers drinking in the corner. She tracked me down at Hooligan’s once again, and I cringe, hoping she’s not here to talk to me about Clara—it’s not a box I want to open just yet.

I grab a chip and dip it in salsa as I wait for her to speak.

“So, Zach and I have been talking.” As she says it, Zach appears with a glass of wine and soda.

“Did you ask him yet?”

She shakes her head, then takes a sip of her red wine.

“Ask me what? About Clara? Because I really don’t want to talk about it.” I drop the chip back in the basket, suddenly not hungry.

Willow whips her head toward me. “What happened? I thought we’d be planning your wedding by now.”

“We’ve only been on one date, and we haven’t spoken much since.” I scoff.

“But it’s you and Clara. You’ve been in love with her all your life, and we all know she loves you too.” Willow peers at Zach like she needs backup.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I repeat, squeezing my eyes shut like that’ll keep my sister’s words out of my head.

I thought Clara loved me too. Or at least, I thought she could’ve.

“Fine.” Willow clears her throat. “We actually had something else we wanted to ask you.”

I sip my water, then say, “Hit me.”

She and Zach both turn to me, and Willow’s voice is shaky when she says, “We want to adopt a baby.”

I instantly smile. “A baby? Really?”

Willow squeezes Zach’s hand on the table between us. “We’ve wanted to be parents for a while now, and we finally found the perfect agency to help us.”

“You guys, this is… amazing,” I sputter, my mind racing. “What can I do to help? Anything. I’ll do anything.”

Even though it’s been hard to be happy about much lately, I can’t stop myself from feeling ecstatic for my sister and her husband.

A baby.

Willow as a mother.

“There is something,” Zach says.

“We need recommendation letters, and we’re wondering if you’d write one for us.”

I clutch my chest, my stomach flipping as I envision Willow, her arms wrapped around a baby. “Of course,” I whisper. “I’d love to.”

“You can write it however you want, but maybe don’t be so Dr. Pearson with it. A mix between the two would be good.”

“What’s wrong with Dr. Pearson?” I ask.

“Seriously? The guy can be scary.”

“I think it’s the thick vein in your neck. It always looks so angry,” Zach jokes.

I roll my eyes. “You two are going to be parents. God help that kid.”

“I said the same thing.” Willow shrugs.

“You’ll need a few other letters too, right? Who else are you planning to ask?”

“My boss will write one. She’s a CEO and a mother of four, and she’s excited to help,” Zach beams.

“And we’re going to ask Staci.”

I’m not surprised. Staci has been like a sister to me, and Willow too, ever since I met her in medical school. We shared a laugh over

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