“Not tonight. I’m exhausted,” I whisper.
“Not even a quick one?”
I grab his wandering hand, removing it from my stomach. “Jonas almost got expelled today.”
“Expelled?” His head pops up from the pillow, suddenly appearing in my periphery. “How do you get expelled during summer break?”
“He still has two more weeks of school left. I texted you about the year-end assembly, remember?”
“Oh…yeah.”He doesn’t remember.“What did he do this time?”
“Turned in his English test with a massive dick drawn across it.”
Alex chuckles. “They were seriously going to expel him forthat? He’s a ten-year-old boy. Dicks are hilarious at that age.”
At ten, and apparently also at twenty-nine, based on how hard Alex’s silent laughter is making the mattress vibrate.
“Well, the school doesn’t find it hilarious. Especially since this is far from his first offense. I had to go there today and ask the principal to give him another chance.” I sigh. “Thank God school’s almost out…. I’m not sure he has any more sympathy left to give us.”
“Let me go next time.”
“Letyougo?” I roll to meet his gaze, wide-eyed and searching for an explanation. Alex hasneveroffered to attend any type of school meeting. Even when I’ve cried and pleaded for a little backup, he comes up with an excuse.
“Yeah, let me talk some sense into the fucking moron running that place.”
He massages my shoulder, then kisses it as his touch trails the length of my arm. Conveniently, he’s right back to the bottom of my shirt, toying with it. That’s all the explanation I need. He’s trying to placate me.
A finger flirts with the waistband of my pajama pants. “Now, where were we?”
“I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you about our son.”
Alex groans, and even in the dark, I know he’s rolling his eyes the same way Jonas did earlier. “Jesus Christ, Whit. I said I’ll go to the school next time—what more is there to talk about?”
“Can you talk to Jonas? Like…man to man. He never wants to listen to anything I say.” I worry my bottom lip. “Maybe take him fishing? He hasn’t had the chance to go with my dad since Mom’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis.”
“Yeah, fine.”
“Wow, don’t sound so fucking thrilled about bonding with your son.”
“I’m super busy with work right now, Whit. And I didn’t come here to be nagged about this shit.” He removes his touch away from my body entirely, creating at least half a foot of space between us in bed. Looks like he’s given up on the thing hedidcome here for, which is honestly fine by me.
“Sorry,” I murmur, rolling to my side, facing away.
He blows a huff from his nostrils, and the mattress dips and shifts as he gets comfortable. Thanks to the sobfest in my laundry room, I’m left with only a few straggler tears to fall. Just enough to soak the pillowcase and send me into a deep slumber.
And when I wake up, Alex is gone.
Whit
“Jonas,” I hiss. “Knock it off.”
He wriggles free of the white-knuckled grip I have on his shoulder, flashing me a look that hits as hard as if he told me to go fuck myself. Thankfully, he doesn’t immediately return to throwing handfuls of gravel at some scrawny boy on the swing, which is exactly what he was doing moments ago, before I tore across the playground and confronted him. Now he’s heading toward his new friend group, and the way they’re snickering, huddled up in a circle, is far from reassuring.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
“That’s a bad word,” the kid on the swing practically shouts. Now I’m a little tempted to throw rocks at him, too. “My mom says you get soap in your mouth for saying that.”
Funny considering how manygentle parentingarticles his mom shares on social media.
