“The worst part is, I think he’s trying to convincehimselfthis distance is what he wants. But I see it in his eyes sometimes, this flash of something real before he shuts it down.” I shake my head. “Not that it matters. He’s made his choice.”
“Have you thought about what you’ll say when you give notice?”
“I’ve been practicing. Something professional and brief about pursuing other opportunities.” I watch Ash scatter breadcrumbs he’s somehow found for the ducks. “I won’t make it about feelings or anything personal. Just a straightforward career move.”
“When will you tell him?”
“After the interview Tuesday. Whether I get the job or not, I’m done. I’ll give him two weeks to find someone else.”
Esme studies my face. “You seem really sure about this.”
“I am. For the first time in weeks, I feel like I’m actually taking control instead of just reacting to whatever he decides.” I take a sip of my latte, surprised by how much lighter I feel saying it out loud. “Actually, you know what? I’m going to give him my notice as soon as possible. I don’t need to wait until after the interview. I love Henry, and I’ll miss him like crazy. But I can’t keep sacrificing my sanity for a paycheck, no matter how good it is.”
“What about Ash? How’s he handling the distance from Jordan?”
The question hits a sore spot. “Not well. He keeps asking when Jordan’s going to have time to see his LEGO project or play soccer again. I keep making up excuses, but Ash is smart. He knows something’s changed.”
“That has to be hard for both of you.”
“It is. But it’s also a reminder that getting attached to someone who can’t commit is dangerous when it’s not just my heart getting broken.” I glance toward Ash again, noting how contenthe looks feeding the ducks. “He deserves stability, not emotional whiplash from adults who can’t figure out what they want.”
“So you’ll look for a place in a different neighborhood?”
“Exactly. Maybe something with a community pool, since Ash loves swimming. A fresh start where we can build our own life without complicated neighbors.” The idea feels better and better as I talk about it. “Somewhere I can have friends over without worrying about running into Jordan. Somewhere Ash can make new friends and not wonder why the cool guy next door suddenly doesn’t have time for him.”
Esme nods thoughtfully. “It sounds like you’ve really thought this through.”
“I have. And talking about it now, I can see how much I need this change. I’ve been in that house my whole life—first with my grandmother, then raising Ash. Maybe it’s time to create something that’s completely ours.”
“Your grandmother would want you to be happy, Alexa. She wouldn’t want you staying somewhere that causes you pain just because of sentimental attachment.”
She’s right, and hearing someone else say it makes the decision feel even more solid. “I think she’d understand. She always told me that home isn’t about a place; it’s about the people you love and who love you back.”
“Wise woman.”
“The wisest.” I watch Ash stand up and wave at us, his face bright with pure Sunday morning joy. Right now, the people who love me back are sitting at this table and feeding ducks outside aplant nursery. Not hiding behind work schedules because they’re too scared to take a chance.
Ash comes bounding up to us, his cheeks flushed from the cool air. “Mom, did you see the baby ducks? They’re so tiny, and they follow their mom everywhere!”
“I did see them. Pretty amazing, right?” I ruffle his hair as he settles beside me. “Did you have fun?”
“The best. Can we come back here sometime? Maybe bring Jordan and Henry?” The question is so innocent, so hopeful, that it makes my chest ache.
“We’ll definitely come back,” I say carefully. “This can be our special Sunday spot.”
“Just us?”
There’s something in his tone that suggests he’s picking up on the shift in my answer. Kids are perceptive that way.
“Just us,” I confirm gently. “Is that okay?”
Ash considers this for a moment, then nods. “Yeah. It’s nice having mom-and-son time.”
“It really is.”
Esme catches my eye and smiles, understanding passing between us. This is what matters. This connection with my son, this ability to make decisions that prioritize our well-being, even though it’ll hurt short term.
“Should we walk around the nursery?” Esme suggests. “I want to find some plants for my apartment, and maybe Ash would like to pick out something for your new place.”
