I check my smartwatch. “You ready to eat?”
Lore shudders lightly, then gets up from the bench. I take the cue and stand too, calling out, “Milo!”
He bolts toward us, bouncing on his heels like he’s powered by sugar instead of oxygen. Dr. Nina might’ve been right, he’s been all smiles today.
For nostalgia’s sake, I drive us to Dora’s, the little diner halfway between the station and the hospital. The place where Lore and I used to meet during shift changes, stealing half an hour for coffee or a quick plate of fries. I don’t know why I go there. Habit, maybe. Or something worse. Either way, Lore doesn’t realize where we’re headed until I pull into the tiny lot out front.
She’s quiet through dinner. Withdrawn. But Milo talks enough for all three of us, rambling about school, recess drama, the solar system project he’s suddenly obsessed with. His excitement fills every quiet pocket between us.
After we eat, I drive us back to my parents’ house to drop off both kids. It’ll be Agnes’s first night away from either of us. I tell myself that’s why Lore looks so distant, curled into her own thoughts. It’s not like we small-talk much these days, but we do talk, about work, about the kids, about Harvey and Lauren. She didn’t even ask why they’re moving to Seattle.
Tonight, though, she feels miles away.
And that’s probably how it’s going to be from now on.
I can’t expect anyone she dates to be okay with her being buddy-buddy with her ex. There’s no chance of me moving on anytime soon, but the future isn’t exactly something I can predict. What I can predict is this: no matter who I date someday, they won’t come between me and my kids. I won’t let anyone, Lore included, push me into being a weekend dad just so her new boyfriend can play “family.”
The thought hits like a bullet to the chest.
I’m a detective with a detective’s salary. There’s no competing with the hotshots and doctors who’ll eventually sniff around her.
I love my job. I love serving this city. But Lore does the same and makes more than I do, and my friends always expected that to bruise my ego. It never did. She never lorded it over me, and honestly, we never even split things fifty-fifty. We were too busy for that. We just threw most of our paychecks into a joint account and used it for bills and groceries and whatever else came up.
Now we’ll have to talk about that, too.
Money.
God, I feel weird even thinking about it. I know she won’t want spousal support. But what if she tries to offer it to me?
My balls aren’t small, but that might actually shrink them.
My dad is already outside when we pull up to the house. Thank God, I texted him from the diner. With the mood Lore’s in, another run-in with Mom, even an apologetic one, would’ve gone over like a grenade.
Together, Lore and I hand over the kids and pull away before Mom can make it out the front door.
On the drive back, I keep trying to think of things to say.
I already asked how work was, got a flatfine.
Asked whether she wanted me to bring the kids by after her shift tomorrow or if she’d pick them up, got a quietI’ll text you.
I’m driving well under the speed limit, and she doesn’t even tell me to speed up. Usually she mutters something about “we’re not eighty, Patrick,” but tonight she’s silent.
When I finally park on the street outside the house, I turn toward her. “Lore,” I start.
She cuts me off before I can say anything else. “I’ll call my friend and have him set up mediation. Or whatever.”
And with that, she opens the door and slams it shut behind her.
I stare after her, mouth half-open, watching as she unlocks the front door and disappears inside.
I wait, for what, I don’t even know.
When the porch stays dark, I shift into drive and pull away.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lorelie
