Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
I shut my mouth since those were the two situations I was going to name and shrug. “I’ll check out the site,” I tell her to get her off my back even though I have no desire to date or get laid.
The other guys arrive, letting me off the hook, and we spend the next few hours hanging out and watching the game. I might be in a dating slump, but Ana’s wrong—I don’t need more than this. I have great friends, a job I love, and the most amazing daughter I could ask for. Why do I need to push for more?
When Addie starts to fuss, we say our goodbyes, so we can get home and start our nightly routine. After a bath, a bedtime story, and some cuddles, her eyes are drooping, and when I lay her in her crib, she’s already halfway to dreamland.
I turn the lights off, and close the door, leaving it open a crack to shine a bit of light in. And then I start my own nightly routine. It’s only nine o’clock, but I’m exhausted, so tonight, I skip working out and head straight for the shower and then bed, knowing if I don’t get some sleep, I’ll regret it in the morning when my little girl is up at the crack of dawn, ready to do this all over again.
While I’m scrolling through my emails to make sure there’s nothing I need to respond to since we have business associates all over the world and in different time zones, Ana sends me the link for the dating site again.
I know she means well, but right now, I honestly can’t imagine dating someone. When I was single, it was easy to casually date, but I learned all too quickly that casual dating could lead to serious consequences. Not that I would ever consider my daughter a consequence. But I can’t negate the fact that my carelessness led to the outcome—my daughter being raised in a one-parent household. I watched my mom leave, my dad choose work over his children, and while my brother and I get along, we’re not close.
When I decide to date again, I need to make sure that whoever I let into our lives wants to stay for the long haul. The last thing I want is for my daughter or me to watch another person we care about walk out the door.
chapter two
KIRA
One Month Later
“Unfortunately, with it being only a few months before summer, we’re not hiring,” June, the principal at Apple Academy, says. “But if you’d like to fill out the online application, we’ll be reevaluating once we know who is returning in the fall.”
“And you don’t have anything available for the summer?” I ask just to make sure since I’ll take anything I can get at this point.
“No, we close for the summer, but you can check with Rosemary Montessori. They host a summer camp program every year. They might be hiring.”
“Thank you. I’ll do that.”
I take my daughter’s hand in mine, and we walk out of the school and back down the street toward the building where I parked the SUV.
Rosemary is a quaint but beautiful town and the perfect place to settle down, but it also lacks job opportunities and isn’t exactly cheap. I’d probably be better off somewhere like Houston, where there are hundreds of schools and more places to rent, but I’m afraid that’s exactly where he’ll look for me … and I know he’ll be looking, if he’s not already.
When I spot a bench in front of the building, I stop so we can sit while I make a note to apply to the school we just left and check out the Montessori school she mentioned when we go to the library later.
“Mommy, I’m thirsty. And you know what I love? Chocolate milk. Can we get some?”
I glance down at my daughter, who’s peering up at me with her innocent blue eyes—the same color as mine—asking for something so simple without realizing just how much she’s asking for. And I hate that I’m going to have to tell her no.
What’s worse is, she doesn’t understand that it’s not because she doesn’t deserve it, but because something that was once the norm is now out of my reach. Milk is expensive, and chocolate milk costs even more. And to waste money on something that isn’t a necessity isn’t an option.
“Violet,” I say, taking her small hand in mine.
She looks at me with such hope that my heart sinks into my stomach. The past month has been hard, but my precious four-year-old daughter has been so good every step of the way. She rarely complains, and she doesn’t ask for much because, despite her age, I think she knows we’re having a rough go at it right now.