One More Chance

Tyler’s eyes panned to mine, and I had to hold back tears. I felt like shit.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I saw you walk in and figured I’d come say hello,” Tyler said.

“Can he eat with us?” Brody asked.

“No. I think Tyler’s got some things to do. Right?”

“I do. I took an early lunch break, but I saw your mother and wanted to come say hello. Brody, it was very nice meeting you,” Tyler said.

He took a step forward and bent down, then held out his hand for his son. A son he didn’t even know was his. Brody took his hand and shook it, and the contact lasted a little longer than I wanted. Tyler looked at Brody with a sparkle in his eye that made me uncomfortable. This wasn’t the time or the place to have this conversation, but the interaction solidified my next move.

When I got Tyler alone again, I had to tell him about Brody.

“Maybe you can come over one day and play water balloon fight with us,” Brody said.

“I’d love nothing more,” Tyler said.

The warmth in his voice made me bite back a whimper. Tyler got to his feet, his eyes lingering on my body a little more than I would’ve liked. He scanned my body, his eyes stopping at my stomach before he cocked his head.

Shit.

He knew.

“It was nice to see you, Ana,” he said.

His eyes finally moved up to mine, and I nodded.

“Nice to see you, too, Tyler.”

“I’ll talk with you soon?” he asked.

I nodded, then threaded my arm around Brody and pulled him close to me. Tyler turned on his heels and walked out, but his shoulders seemed a little less confident, a little slumped compared to the height he normally walked with. I closed my eyes and let out the breath I was holding, my heart aching with every step away from us he took.

Brody had just met his father and he had no fucking clue. What kind of person was I?

“Let’s get our sandwiches and sit down. Okay?” I said.

“Why are you about to cry, Mom?”

“I’m not. I’m just a little tired.”

“I know what it sounds like when you’re about to cry.”

“And how do you know that?” I asked.

“Because I take care of you sometimes.”

I furrowed my brow at his comment as I looked down at his beautiful face.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“Well, sometimes you sit at the kitchen table and cry. And sometimes you cry in the shower.”

“How is that taking care of me, honey?”

“I sit out of sight so you don’t cry alone, Mommy.”

The tears rushed my eyes and there was no more holding them back. I bobbed my head up and down as I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. I fluttered my eyes closed and cleared my throat, then guided Brody to the sandwich service counter where I paid for our food. After grabbing our tray with the sandwiches, chips, and drinks, we sat down in our regular booth in the corner.

Maybe I wasn’t the good mother I thought I was.

Maybe I really was the terrible mother of my fears.

Tyler

My encounter with Ana in the sandwich shop weighed heavily on my mind the whole damn day. It distracted me from work and made me zone out during client phone calls. It even made me lose my place when looking over contracts for Brandon.

Brandon.

That’s what I needed, to talk to Brandon.

“Hey there. You done looking over those—”

“Can we get a drink tonight?” I asked, interrupting him.

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“I’ve got a shit ton on my mind and I need to bounce it off someone.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been looking over these contracts. We can talk about what I’ve found when we sit down. Just—if I lock up shop now, can you meet me at Varnish?”

“Wait. You’re still at the office? It’s almost nine o’clock.”

“It’s been a very distracting day,” I said.

“I’m leaving my apartment now. It was an early day for me, believe it or not. See you in fifteen?”

“Make it ten.”

I gathered all my things and locked down my office. Then I raced to my car and tossed my things into the back. I had to be crazy. What was going through my mind couldn’t possibly be true. Ana would have told me. She wasn’t that type of woman.

Then again, everyone kept telling me that eight years changed a lot about someone.

Eight years.

Brody was eight years old.

I rushed into the bar and ordered a stiff drink. I slammed it back and ordered another one as a familiar person slid into the seat next to me. I sighed at his presence as I took my drink in my hand. Brandon ordered himself a beer before he turned to me.

“I can smell the first one on your breath already,” he said.

“You’re judging me for my drinking now?” I asked.