I hadn’t even told Marissa what we were doing when I’d seen her at Sophie’s house last weekend. She, Sophie, and Leigh had asked endless questions about my job, Matty, and Jack, but I’d kept my answers super professional. Even if all I’d wanted was to confess everything to them and ask what I should do.
Logically, I knew I couldn’t sneak around with Matty forever, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try. Being with Matty felt like I had a shot at the romantic relationship I’d always dreamed of, and I couldn’t be upset with myself for clinging on to it.
Hope was really all I had.
Shaking my head, I walked over to grab the aprons off the back of the kitchen door—a standard sized one for me and a small one for Jack so he could help make and knead the dough without completely coating himself in flour until he looked like Casper. Although he would make a very adorable tiny ghost.
“Would you like to help me make some pizza dough?” I asked Jack as I held out his apron.
“Pizza?” Jack’s eyes shone with delight as he took the apron, tugging it over his head so fast it made his hair stand on end.
“Yeah, we’re going to make the dough now so it can rest and then later we’ll make pizza for tea. And you can choose what you have on it. You could have cheese, ham, maybe some sweetcorn. Pineapple is always nice too.” I would be an advocate for pineapple on pizza until I died and I wasn’t above trying to convince Jack to join team pineapple either.
Jack frowned. “Nineapple? That sounds yucky, Harper.”
“It’s very nice, though.”
Jack patted my leg gently and smiled at me sweetly, like he was trying to comfort me. “As long as you like it that’s okay.”
“Thanks, Jack,” I said, trying desperately not to laugh from what felt like the world’s most scathing put-down. Toddlers: they always knew how to hit you right where it hurt while giving you the most encouraging smile. It was a freaking gift.
“You’re welcome.”
I grinned, because that was new too. “Okay, let’s make some pizza so it’s ready when Daddy gets home.”
“Wait, he said what?” Matty asked, chuckling as he poured himself a small glass of whisky while I rolled us out two pizzas. Matty’s was larger than mine, but I figured he needed the extra calories given how much he had to eat to maintain his muscle mass. It was much later that evening, Jack was tucked up in bed, and the two of us were hanging out in the kitchen together.
If I squinted, I could almost have called it a date.
“As long as I like it, that’s okay,” I said with a grin as I stretched the dough out a little further before lifting it onto the prepped trays, because it was easier to put toppings on them like this. “I take it he’s learned his anti-pineapple ways from you?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever offered it to him. Because I’m normal.”
“Er, excuse me? Pineapple on pizza is a God-tier combination. And this is coming from the man who hates mushrooms.”
“Mushrooms are slimy and weird,” Matty said as he sipped his whisky, giving me a teasing smile. “And they’re poisonous.”
“Not the ones you get from Tesco!”
“I’m not taking any chances.”
I chuckled and shook my head fondly as I grabbed the pizza sauce and began to spread it across the bases. It was nice, spending time with him like this, just chatting about our days, our lives, and our weird thoughts about mushrooms. There was a warmth and comfortableness to it, like slipping on a cosy pair of slippers or wrapping myself in a blanket.
I’d had relationships that felt like this before, but not many. And yes, thistechnicallywasn’t a relationship, but I didn’t know what else to call it.
It wasn’t like I’d said it out loud, so what did it matter what I called it in my own head?
“By the way, the baker emailed to confirm the deposit for Jack’s cake went through, so that’s all sorted, and I have all the invitations ready to hand out at nursery tomorrow. Also, a friend of my sister Sophie is a party princess, and she could do Sally fromThe Nightmare Before Christmasif you were interested? I sent you her prices and checked her availability—she had a cancellation, so she’s available for Jack’s party, and she has a friend who does Jack Skellington who might be able to make it too. She’d have to double-check. Or I found a guy who does dinosaur-themed parties and I gave him a call and apologised for the last-minute request, but he thinks he might be able to squeeze us in, especially since I said most of the guests areonly three or thereabouts, so we’d probably only want an hour package at most.”
Trying to plan Jack’s party in less than a month was proving a little more stressful than I’d imagined, but I wasn’t going to tell Matty that. I didn’t want him getting in his own head and thinking he was a bad dad for leaving it until now. He had enough to worry about and I refused to make him feel worse.
Especially because I’d realised I liked planning the party, so despite the stress it wasn’t a hardship. I was having a lot of fun and I couldn’t wait to see Jack’s face when he saw everything. The theme was a bit of a mashup because he loved too many things to stick to one.
I’d have to find out when Matty’s birthday was and put my new skills to the test for him next.
“Damn, you’re nailing this party planning thing,” Matty said, seeming more impressed than upset.
“Thanks.”
