Kai’s mouth hangs open as he stares at our thirteen-year-old, and I get it. Some of the things he comes out with blow my mind. He’s incredibly intelligent, and he soaks information up like a sponge. We’re so proud of him, but we worry about him too. You don’t get to be a kid for long, and we want him to remain as carefree as possible for as long as possible. But we also support his dreams, and striking the right balance is the challenge.
“You’re so articulate, Cuan. It’s no wonder your school team kills it at every debate.” Abby beams at her godson.
“Dad lets me use his Audible account, and I’ve been listening to lots of self-help books and reading about the psychology of sports.” He taps his temple. “Sports is as much about the mental game as the physical, especially with golf.”
“Well, I think you’re well ahead of the game, and I look forward to bragging about my talented godson in the near future,” Kai says.
“Who wants dessert?” Abby asks, and the chorus of enthusiastic replies almost bursts my eardrums.
After we finish eating, I head to the game room with the kids to play some Xbox. Abby finds me there thirty minutes later. “Kai and Sawyer are heading to the sports bar to watch the baseball game if you want to join them?”
“And ditch my partner in crime?” I slap a hand over my chest and feign shock. “You wound me.”
She rolls her eyes. “Always with the dramatics.” She grins wide before lifting one shoulder. “Come on then. I have a fabulous pinot noir with your name on it.”
“You had me at fabulous.” I hand my controller to Ori to take over as he was sitting this game out. “Use the force, and don’t let the side down.”
My godson smirks. “Wondered how long it would take you to mentionStar Wars. Thirty-four minutes has got to be some kind of record for you, Uncle Xavi.”
I’m chuckling as I stand and ruffle his hair. “You’re probably right.”
“Auntie Abby,” Aubree calls out, maintaining eye contact on the game as she battles to win the soccer ball from her brother. “Can you paint my nails before I go to bed?”
“Of course, I can, sweetie. Just come find me when you’re ready.”
I follow Abby out of the room and down the hallway to the main living space where Anderson and my husband are waiting.
“I’ll stay with Abby and the kids,” I tell Hunt, rubbing at the pain in my chest.
“I thought as much,” he says in a clipped tone.
Kai and Abby share a look.
“Don’t rush back on my account,” I add, making a beeline for the kitchen counter where Abby has opened the French wine and is letting it breathe. “Abby and I have plenty of gossip to catch up on.”
“I’m sure, and I wasn’t planning on it.” He levels me with a warning look, but he can fuck off if he thinks I’m not talking this out with my best friend. He asked me not to tell her, but that was before. I think I’ll go insane if I don’t talk to someone about it.
“Enjoy your night.” I force a smile on my face, trying to pretend like I’m not heartsick when Kai kisses Abby.
“I will.” He offers me a tight smile before walking out of the room with Anderson trailing behind him.
“You get the wine,” Abby says, “and I’ll grab the glasses and the cookies. Let’s talk outside.”
I push through the doors outside with a pain in my heart. I hate fighting with Hunt, and it’s all we’ve been doing for months. I flop down on the couch, placing the wine on the coffee table. Abby joins me a few minutes later, carrying a tray with glasses and a plate piled high with her infamous peanut butter chocolatechip cookies. She knows they’re my favorite, and she always makes them any time we’re visiting.
“They’re fresh,” she confirms, carefully depositing the tray on the table. “I made them this morning. I baked double my usual batch, so you can take some home with you tomorrow.”
“You’re the best.” I lean in and hug her, clinging to her a little tighter than usual.
“I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it, but I’m pulling the best-friend card out. You’re hurting, Sawyer is hurting, and the tension between you is obvious. Kids have a sixth sense for this stuff, and if Kai and I have noticed, you can bet Cuan and Aubree have too. Talk to me, Xavier. Please tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”
“I’m not sure anyone can,” I quietly admit as I watch Abby pour generous measures into both wineglasses.
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“You’ve got enough on your plate with Oli. I don’t want to burden you.”
“Don’t talk crap. We’re friends. Friends put aside their own shit to help their besties when it’s clear they’re upset. The best distraction is someone else’s problem, and trust me when I say I need that distraction. So, come on. Tell me what’s going on.”
