A Baby Affair (Parent Portal 2)
And one who allowed himself to be relegated to the sidelines of life.
The thought stopped him cold, Tricia’s bike suspended over his head on its way down from his SUV in the parking lot.
He’d allowed himself to be pushed aside with Tricia and as a by-product, Gavin. And he was doing it again with Isabella. Not that he could have forced either woman to share their children with him. Nor would he want to do so.
But the realization told him something key about himself. He seemed content to be on the sidelines.
His work required him to focus on a person’s health, and then step aside as the family processed the emotional aspects of what he shared—good and bad.
But as he lowered the bike, he had a sudden vision of the way he had figured into Tricia’s life. She’d said she wasn’t open to marriage and he’d allowed himself to settle for less than he wanted. He’d wanted to adopt Gavin, or have some kind of guardianship rights, but when Tricia had demurred, he’d continued to live with them. To be a father figure to the boy—without any say in any of the key decisions in Gavin’s life. Tricia had made all of those, from what sports he’d play to new school clothes.
Craig’s bike came down next.
And yeah, what was he supposed to have done? Walked out? Left the boy to fend for himself? And Tricia...
So, maybe he hadn’t loved her as much as he’d once thought he had...
His bike bounced down to the ground with a bit too much force as that thought reared. Of course he’d loved Tricia.
As much as she’d let him.
Amelia wasn’t letting him love her at all.
But he did. A rush of emotion swamped him as he thought of her sleeping in his arms the night before, and had him wiping his forehead on his sleeve. He’d never felt anywhere near that intensity of feeling for Tricia.
He’d learned some things. Matured.
He knew he couldn’t settle for less than he needed.
Just as he knew that Amelia couldn’t, and shouldn’t even try to, give more than she had to give.
The only question left...where did that leave them?
She’d just pulled into the parking lot.
Thank God.
* * *
Tuesday’s ride was like any other weekday excursion they’d taken. Shorter than Sunday. Less talking. Afraid that she’d damaged her friendship with Craig after what had happened last night, Amelia gave everything she had to pretending that nothing had changed.
Because, in a very real way, nothing had.
Yeah, she was struggling a bit more with keeping her hands off him, struggling not to think about the chest underneath that spandex shirt and the rest of him...tucked inside those tight pants. Her mouth got a little drier as they rode, and she had to access her water bottle a bit more often.
She tried to picture herself living in Craig’s house with him—even just as a live-in girlfriend, not a wife—and her insides cramped. Like bad was just around the corner. Walls of worry. Her worries.
She’d known a woman in group counseling who had the same reaction to Sundays. Something had happened to her on a Sunday afternoon as a child. Football had been on at the time. And thirty years later, that woman still had to fight feelings of oppression on Sunday afternoons, most particularly during the fall months.
Emotional memory, their counselor had explained, adding something to do with hormones and brain chemicals that are triggered...
The big home, the yard, so privately offset from anyone else in the world—all that sent her spiraling. It just wasn’t right for her.
And wasn’t something she was likely to grow out of.
And when she pictured a life without Craig in it?
It wasn’t good, either.