“But that’s for work.”
That’s true. Damn her for being right. I find a channel and put the remote back before getting comfortable.
“I have his number. I don’t need any excuse to see or talk to him.”
“Well, get sexting,” she whispers.
I snort. “No chance.”
As I sit on the couch watching TV, memories of him earlier haunt me. His tired, hurt eyes staring back at me instead of those big brown wide-set ones that stare at me with adoration. I miss those.
How do I get them back?
I try to change the channel to find something that can hold my attention, but I fail. Instead, I pull out my phone to send him a text.
Gracie:You didn’t pick up your dinner.
It’s only a couple of minutes when my phone chimes.
Marc:I’m not hungry anymore.
Reading those words hits me like a train.
Gracie:I’m sorry.
Marc:So am I.
I don’t know what else to say. So I sit back and think about his daughter. But maybe I should find out more from him and see if that helps me make a decision.
Gracie:Tell me about her.
Marc:Who?
Gracie:Your daughter.
Marc:Why?
Gracie:I need to make a decision, and I think maybe talking about her might help.
Marc:Well, Aria is thirteen and the most fun-loving kid you’ll ever meet. She loves a good movie night and thinks boys suck. (which, I’m not complaining about) She’s kind, warm, and also very funny.
Gracie:Sounds like her dad. ?? What’s her favorite movie?
Marc:You think? I don’t see how I’m funny, warm, and kind. Currently, when she visits, we are watchingThe Hunger Games.
Gracie:Yeah, maybe not funny, but you’re warm and kind. I haven’t seen it.
Marc:Maybe to you, but no one else I know would use those words to describe me.
Gracie:They don’t know you like I do.
Marc:No, they don’t.
I’m thinking of what else to say, when he sends another message.
Marc:She would happily have you here, so you can watch it with us.
I read the text line repeatedly.