I’d tried to tell her weeks ago. Sent a text, suggested we talk on the phone. She’d finally replied to one of them with a brief “sounds good, let’s discuss when I’m in town.” I don’t particularly want to have this conversation with her, but co-parenting means keeping her informed about things that affect Chloe.
“Yeah,” I say, wrapping my hands around my own mug. The warmth seeps into my palms. “Her name is Emma. We’ve been together for a few months now.”
Victoria leans back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Emma,” she repeats, like she’s testing the name. “Chloe’s mentioned her a few times. She seems to really like her.”
“She does.”
“And she’s Chloe’s teacher, right? First grade?”
“That’s right.”
Victoria takes a sip of her latte, and I watch her process this information. The coffee shop is quiet except for the gentle hum of conversation from the other tables and the soft jazz playing through the speakers.
“I hope you’re being responsible about this, Theo,” she says finally, setting her cup down. “Dating your daughter’s teacher. That’s a lot of potential for complications.”
“Emma checked with the school before anything started,” I say, keeping my voice even. “There’s no conflict of interest. And she’s only Chloe’s teacher for the rest of this year. After that, Chloe moves on to second grade with someone else.”
“Okay.” Victoria nods, though I can tell she’s still thinking it through. “And it’s serious?”
“It is.” I don’t elaborate. I don’t tell her that Emma has become the center of my world, that waking up next to her feels like winning the lottery every single day, that I can see a future with her in a way I haven’t let myself imagine since long before our marriage ended.
She studies me for a moment, her head tilted slightly. “So tell me more. What’s she like?”
I set my mug down and lean back in my chair. Through the window, I can see a fishing boat heading out toward the Sound, its wake cutting a white line through the grey-blue water.
“She’s smart,” I continue, thinking about how to describe Emma in a way that does her justice. “Really smart. Graduated college early, had a whole career in Seattle before she moved out here. She’s passionate about education, about making a difference for kids.” I turn my coffee cup in my hands, staring at the dark surface. “And she’s kind. She and Chloe have this whole relationship separate from me. Inside jokes, art projects. Chloe absolutely adores her.”
Victoria is quiet for a moment, watching me. “You really care about her,” she says.
“I do.”
“How old is she?”
The question lands with a thud, even though I was expecting it. “Twenty-four.”
Victoria’s eyebrows shoot up. “Twenty-four?” She lets out a short laugh, shaking her head. “C’mon, Theo.”
I don’t respond. I was prepared for this.
“She’s ten years younger than you,” Victoria continues. “Ten years younger thanme.” She takes a sip of her drink, then sets it down with a little more force than necessary.”
I feel heat rise up the back of my neck, my hands tightening around my coffee cup. For a moment I don’t trust myself to speak.
Victoria must see something in my face because her expression shifts. She holds up a hand, shaking her head. “I’m sorry,” she says. “That was uncalled for. I just...” She exhales, rubbing her temple with her fingertips. “This is a lot to process, Theo. You’ve never dated anyone since we split. Not seriously. And now you’re telling me you’re in a serious relationship with someone who’s barely out of college.”
“She’s twenty-four,” I repeat, my voice carefully controlled. “Not eighteen. She has a master’s degree and a career she loves. She’s one of the most mature, grounded people I’ve ever met. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t reduce her to her age.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Victoria holds up both hands now, apeace offering. She takes a breath, then another. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just a shock, that’s all. Give me a minute to adjust.”
I don’t say anything. My coffee has gone lukewarm but I drink it anyway, needing something to do with my hands. The jazz music shifts to something slower, a piano melody drifting through the quiet coffee shop. At the table next to us, a woman laughs at something on her laptop. Life going on, normal and unremarkable, while Victoria and I navigate another awkward conversation about our separate lives.
“I am happy for you,” Victoria says eventually, and her voice is quieter now. More genuine. “Really. I know I reacted badly just now, but you deserve to be happy, Theo. You’re a good man and a great father. If this woman makes you happy, then I’m glad.”
“Thanks,” I say. The word comes out flatter than I intend, but I mean it.
“I mean it.” She reaches across the table and touches my hand briefly, then pulls back. “I’d like to meet her at some point. While I’m in town. If that’s something you’d be comfortable with.”
I consider this. The idea of Victoria and Emma in the same room makes me uneasy, but I can’t avoid it forever. They’re both part of Chloe’s life. At some point they’re going to have to coexist.
