“There must be something there for you to offer to marry him. It’s crazy, Mila, and not at all like you.”
“I don’t know,” I tell her.
“I think I do. You more than like him. You love him. You probably fantasize about this turning into real love.”
I inhale sharply. There’s no way I’m going to admit, short of a gun being put to my head. “Of course not,” I say, my voice laced with indignation.
“Be careful, Mila,” Jessica says quietly. “Don’t make the mistake of falling in love with Brad. He’s doing this for his son, nothing else.”
“I know,” I tell her.
“Good.”
We finally disconnect the call. My eye is caught by a familiar face at the other end of the field, near the parking lot. My blood grows cold. I sit up straighter. He disappears. It was fleeting, but he looked like Clay. I want to dash into the parking lot and check, but I don’t want Brad to worry. I sit back and slip my sunglasses on and keep my gaze on the parking area. He doesn’t appear again. I tell myself I am being paranoid. It can’t be Clay. For starters, he doesn’t know where I live. Secondly, he’s not a stalker. If he wanted to see me, he would have said so.
After practice, we go to our usual haunt for pizza and playtime for Isaac. He loves it there, and Brad and I love watching him playing with his little friends.
“I was expecting the court evaluator this week,” Brad says after we’ve eaten and are just relaxing watching Isaac.
“I know,” I tell him. He’d been tense all week, and I’d tried my best to distract and reassure him. “He’ll turn up in this coming week.”
“I hope so,” Brad says. “I want this over and done with, and we can all go back to our lives.”
I remember Jessica’s words. She was right, and I need to remember that and not let my fantasies go out of control. Still, it’s hard to remember when every day we behave like a family.
Brad and Isaac leave early in the morning, and I stand on the porch and wave them off in my dressing gown. Then I go back in and clean up and then take a shower before going next door to paint. I’ve started painting again, and while the progress is a little slow, I’m enjoying it.
I leave work at half-past two, go back home, and prepare an after-school snack for Isaac. Debbie drops him off, and we sit together and chat as he eats. Sometimes we hit the pool, other times, we bounce on the trampoline, and sometimes he just wants to play with his toys.
Brad comes home, and I greet him at the door with a kiss. His hands snake around me and pull me against him.
“How is my wife?” he says every single day.
He showers, and then we have dinner together. Afterward, we relax as a family, and at bedtime, we go to bed together. We make love every day and sleep in each other’s arms. How am I supposed to keep myself from thinking that this could be permanent?
“Are you okay?” Brad says now, jerking me back to the present.
I smile broadly. “I’m fine.”
“Hey, do you want to pass by the farmer’s market?” he says. “I want to make something special for you guys for dinner.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say.
I love farmer’s markets. I love the scent of fresh vegetables, herbs, and fruits. I love walking while holding Brad and Isaac’s hands.
Brad takes us to a farmer’s market a little way outside town. It’s bigger than the one I’ve been to, and it takes us a while to see everything. We stop at one stall, drawn by the succulent looking huge oranges.
The seller, a chubby lady, is taken with Isaac. “My, aren’t you handsome,” she tells him, and Isaac grins.
She washes an orange, slices it, wraps it in a napkin, and gives it to him.
“You have a beautiful family,” she tells me.
I don’t know what to say. “Thanks.”
Brad loops his hand around my waist and pulls me close. An ache forms somewhere deep in my heart. I feel like an impostor. Brad and Isaac are not my family. I’m just lying to myself. Tears fill my eyes, and I busy myself choosing oranges so that Brad doesn’t see them.
Chapter 21
Brad
I have permanent knots of tension in my belly. The muscles in my shoulders are tight with tension. Even baseball practice does not relieve it. I’m relieved when it’s over, but not for long. We’ve been invited to my friend and work colleague’s home for an afternoon barbecue. Any other time I’d have looked forward to it, but now all I can think about is the looming custody case. Every time I think there’s a chance that I might lose Isaac, I break out into a cold sweat.