Page 110 of Falling for the Grumpiest Protector

"He hated peas."

A faint smile touches Jack's mouth.

"He used to hide them under his mashed potatoes. Like I wouldn't notice."

"Smart kid."

"He thought he was."

The memory comes so clearly I almost see him. Diego at the kitchen table, cheeks puffed out because I caught him trying to feed peas to the dog. I smile. It doesn't last.

"He'd be twenty now."

Jack looks toward the field. "I know."

Twelve years. A boy becomes a man in twelve years. A father becomes a stranger.

"I lost my wife," I say. "And I lost my son."

Jack's voice is quiet. "You didn't stop being his father."

"Maybe not to me."

The words sit between us. I look down at the bottle in my hands.

"I don't blame Diana."

"I know you don't."

"She did what she thought she needed to do for Diego. I respected that."

Jack is silent for a moment. "You let her go."

"Same difference."

"No, it isn't."

I look at him. There's nothing confrontational in his face. Just a man who has known me long enough to recognize the lies I tell myself.

"She made a decision," he says. "You decided not to fight it."

"What was I supposed to do? Make things harder for Diego because I couldn't stand losing him?"

"I didn't say that."

"I wasn't going to drag him through a war between his parents."

"And you didn't."

Jack takes another drink. "But that doesn't mean you stopped wanting your son."

My throat tightens. "No."

There it is. One word. Twelve years.

Jack looks away, giving me the privacy of not being watched. After a while, I say, "I don't want to do this again."

"With Diego?"