He looks confused for a moment. “Nothing. I just meant?—”
“Because it’s been months, Hooper. Months since you’ve seen your daughter. You rarely call or text either. Do you have any idea how much she misses you? How much she wishes that today’s the day you’re going to call her.”
Hooper exhales, like I’m being unreasonable. Like I’m the problem here. “Hey, you know how busy it is on tour.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re still finding time to fuck your groupies,” I reply, tone cutting as I remember walking into ourbedroom in the one-bed apartment in East Nashville, to find Hooper in bed with a brunette twice his age.I shove the image aside. I remember the rage. The way it scorched in my chest. Our apartment. Our bed! It wasn’t like I hadn’t suspected he was cheating, but it was like he wanted to be caught. Less than a year into a marriage that felt like it ended before it had even begun, with Madison still so tiny. It was surprising how quickly my feelings turned to relief.
It was the reason I needed to walk away. To stop limping through a relationship that never really worked. Even before I got pregnant, I think it was the idea of Hooper I fell in love with. He gave me a reason to rebel against the rules my parents set. A reason to run away from a life I didn’t want. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t humiliated. I’d just turned nineteen and I was alone, caring for a baby I loved so fiercely I cried myself to sleep every night over how much I was already letting her down.
Hooper sighs. “When are you going to let that go, Izzy?”
“I don’t know, Hoop. When are you going to grow up and be a better father to Madison?”
Then, Hooper scoops his hair behind his ears and looks at me in what I’m certain he thinks is his smoldering look, but it just makes me want to punch him.
“She’s not an occasional hookup,” I continue. “She’s your daughter.”
For a moment, Hooper’s shoulders sag, and I swear I catch regret flash in his eyes, but it’s gone in an instant. “No one gets anywhere without making sacrifices. But you’re right. It’s why I came this weekend.”
My mouth drops open. Hooper is like a cheap prize at the carnival. Shiny on the outside, worthless up close. This is the first time I’ve known him to admit he’s anything less than perfect. Something sparks inside of me then. A tiny hope thatthings could be different for Mad.That even though it will drive me crazy, her dad could be in her life more.
And then Hooper reminds me of what a spineless prick he really is.“But hey, seems like I’m not the only one who’s been busy.” He raises his brows, shooting a look to where Dylan and Mad are stroking Quicksilver and Moonlight. “Shacking up with a pro athlete pretending to be a rancher. How long’s that gonna last? I thought you had more sense than that.”
My spine snaps straight. Any hope that things could ever be different turn to ash. “Really?” I give a hollow laugh. “Because I married you, Hooper, so clearly my judgment was never great to begin with.” I don’t give him a chance to reply as I jam my finger in his direction. “You will be taking Madison out for burgers and milkshakes tomorrow. You will be here at six on the dot, and you will have her home by nine, or I will personally hunt you down and?—”
He laughs. “I forgot how easy it is to push your buttons.” He backs away to the truck. “See you at seven tomorrow.”
“Six!” I yell back before stalking toward the paddock. I want to forget Hooper’s existence and focus on Madison, but his words have burrowed under my skin like asplinter I can’t dig out.
Shacking up with a pro athlete pretending to be a rancher. How long’s that gonna last?
Of course, he manages to hone in on the main fear that’s been circling my head since Dylan asked me to stay earlier. I shove the thought aside as I reach the paddock and see Dylan smiling as Madison talks at a hundred miles an hour. I step through the gate and across the paddock to where Quicksilver stands close to his mother, his little silver-gray body sleek in the early evening sun. He’s growing stronger and more confident with each passing day. His dark, playful eyes dart toward Madison as she reaches out a hand.
“You’re so beautiful,” Madison gushes, voice full of wonder as she gently strokes his nose. Quicksilver flicks his ears forward, nudging her palm with his soft muzzle. “That’s right. I gave you your name.”
“I was going to call him Brian,” Dylan jokes. “But I guess Quicksilver works.”
“Brian?” Madison giggles. “That’s a terrible name for a horse that’s going to win the rodeo.”
Madison turns to Dylan and I swear I can feel her energy vibrating in the air. “Dylan, can you come for dinner tonight? Mom always makes spaghetti on my first night back. And she always makes way too much.”
“Because it’s your favorite,” I say automatically.
Madison scrunches her nose. “It used to be. My favorite is burgers now, but I still like spaghetti.”
“Burgers have dethroned spaghetti? How did I not know this? Well, we’d better start cooking then.”
Madison gasps as if remembering something important. “Oh! But first, I want to play on the rope swing!” She turns to Dylan, eyes wide. “Can you take me?”
I’m torn in an instant. This is motherhood. This is wanting to say no—because there’s dinner to cook and bags to unpack and I want to spend time with Mad too—but knowing I’ll say yes because my daughter’s happiness is the most important thing. But Dylan must sense my hesitation because before I can reply he gets there first.
“Actually, Mad, I’d love to join you for dinner, but Mama, Jake, Harper, and Chase just got back from Dallas, and I was gonna cook something for them. Why don’t you join us? That way, I can make dinner while you two go try out the rope swing?”
Madison hisses an excited“YES!” before sprinting toward the trailer. “I’ll get my swimsuit!”
I watch her go before turning to Dylan. He’s already looking at me, arms crossed over that broad chest, those dark eyes shadowed and unreadable—but locked on me like I’m the only thing he sees. “You don’t have to?—”
Dylan fixes me with a knowing look. “Go spend time with Mad. I’ll take care of dinner.”
