Page 31 of He Has Santa (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
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“What are you doing? Trying to torture your poor little—”
“Don’t call him little, not even when he’s shrunk to microscopic.” She laughs more and I shiver, but it’s worth it to see her happy, to see that sadness gone even if she is still unsure about us.
Her car pulls up and I give her a quick kiss before she runs down the walk as if she’s escaping.
“I’ll text you,” I say. She jumps in the car without looking back.
Well hell. Maybe she is trying to escape. Maybe all she wanted was a quick one-nighter from me.
Maybe one night doesn’t change anything and she’s still mourning her husband, still someone else’s Junie. Still no more than the mother of my child.
Nicky. Did we just make a big mistake?
