He plucks it off and places it carefully on the counter.“Assault with a delicious weapon,” he says gravely, then leans in to blow a raspberry on her neck.
She shrieks and lets loose a chorus of baby giggles, and against my will, the corner of my mouth ticks upward.
Atlas glances at the clock on the microwave.“Okay.I’m going to put on my game-day face right now.Since you won’t ask for help, I’m just going to start unpacking boxes and putting shit where I think it goes.If that doesn’t work for you, give me better direction, but you have me until two p.m.”
“Wait a minute,” I say with a heavy sigh, feeling like I’m sludging through mud uphill.“You’ll just cause more work for me if you do that.Would you be willing to make a grocery run?”
He smiles triumphantly, like we’ve negotiated a trade deal at the UN.“Absolutely.Make a list.”He slips Grayce into her high chair, gives her another small scoop of Cheerios and boops her nose.“I’m going to get dressed.”
Atlas disappears in the direction of his room, and I start a list on my phone while I sip at my coffee, which is surprisingly good.Bread, eggs, grapes, Greek yogurt, pasta, sauce, spinach, chicken, formula, diapers, unscented wipes, coffee, oat milk, bananas (ripe now), bananas (green for later).
I text it to him with the order,Text or call if you have any questions.
After that, I rinse out my cup and wipe down the counters.I grab the first box, noting that it’s Gray’s collection of spices.I smile at the memory of the many wonderful meals we cooked together.
Before long, Atlas is back in a pair of jeans and a black Henley that fits him very well.His hair is wet and spiky and he didn’t shave.It would be a lot easier to dislike him if he wasn’t so ridiculously good-looking.Combine that with his general affability, and I’ll grudgingly admit that I can see why Gray liked him so much.
He picks up his keys from the counter and pockets them.“Got the list you texted.Be back in about an hour,” he says and turns away but then seems to reconsider and spins back.“Listen, I didn’t ask before, so I’m asking now… did you want to come to the game tonight?I can get you a ticket, but we’d have to scramble to find a sitter for Grayce.”
My jaw sags open and I stare at him for a speechless moment.“Why would I want to come to your game?”
Atlas jerks as if I punched him and then his expression shutters to cold indifference.“Just trying to be polite.Gray said to be nice to you, although for the first time, I’m starting to question his judgment.”
Now I’m the one who jolts because that stung a little… that Gray wanted him to be nice to me and he’s not sure I’m even worth it.
I should apologize for dismissing his offer, but I’m on the defensive again.It’s my go-to mechanism to keep from getting hurt.
“We’re not friends, Atlas.We’ve got a job to co-parent Grayce.Let’s just keep it to that.”
“Gladly,” he mutters and turns on his heel, not giving me a backward glance.
My gaze drifts over to Grayce, who seems to be watching me intently, all wide-eyed and innocent.She can’t understand those words, but I’m sure she can feel emotion.I have to wonder what kind of role models we’ll be for Grayce if one day she starts understanding that her two parents don’t even like each other.
A dull ache thrums behind my eyes and I pinch the bridge of my nose, exhaling a deep breath.We both have to do right by her and that means giving her a good life.That can’t be living with two people who want to tear into each other all the time.
“Gray,” I say, tipping my head back to look upward.“If you have any type of angelic powers, please give me grace and patience with your friend.Please help me be nice to him.”
I take a moment, then add, “And help me to accept when he’s nice to me.Teach me how to give him the benefit of the doubt.”
CHAPTER 9
Atlas
The welcome familiarityof the arena as I step inside doesn’t do much for me.My normal pregame excitement is muted.Game days are an electric buzz of adrenaline, and the need to immerse myself in competition is always intense.I become a better version of my hockey self… edges sharp, my focus so honed, I’m able to shut out the rest of the world.
But today, I don’t feel any of it.
The images in my head aren’t of hockey sticks and skates, but rather of Gray’s gaunt face the last time I saw him.Grayce’s hiccup-type laugh when she’s amused.Maddie’s razored voice telling me she doesn’t need help and we’re not friends.No matter how hard I try to see past those things, I’m blocked.
It’s been exactly one week since my best friend and the only person I truly trusted in this world died.And instead of being able to process the loss, I’m focused on understanding the gain in the form of an unexpected daughter.
None of it feels real, and I acknowledge I’m going through the motions.My sense of loyalty to Gray sealed my fate and I’m trying to make the best of it, but there’s not a minute that goes by that I don’t feel like a fraud.Sure, I feed Grayce, I change her diapers, I carry her around with the projected confidence of someone who’s been handling babies their entire life.But inside, I’m a terrified disaster.In my mind, Maddie is judging me at all times, waiting for me to screw up so she can say, “Aha!I knew you weren’t father material.”
I act confidently in an effort to fool her, but I’m white-knuckling it.I feel like I’m barreling down a mountain road with no brakes and a loose steering wheel.
“Yo, Atlas,” a voice cuts through my thoughts.
I turn to see Kace coming through the players’ entrance, his ID badge in hand.He trots to catch up, slapping my shoulder with an easy grin.“Glad to have you back, man.How are things going?”
