“But I can make things better, learn from my mistakes. I can be a better son, a good friend. I can be a father Skylar can count on.”
“Niall…”
“And a man you’d be proud of.”
I sigh.
“Someone you wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen with.”
“Do you think I’m ashamed of you?”
“I don’t know, Headmistress. You tell me. Would you be embarrassed to be seen in town with me?”
“I’d be embarrassed to be seen with the father of one of my students.”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
I fumble around for a few seconds, nervously biting my lip. When he realises he’s not getting a response, he gets to his feet.
“Thanks for listening,” he says, bitterness snaking into his voice. “And for asking Carter to help Skylar.”
“Niall…”
“Goodnight, Headmistress.”
He moves quickly towards the door, as I pull myself to my feet, trying to stop him. But I just stand there and watch him as he opens the door, steps through it, then closes it behind him. I don’t have the courage to say anything, to tell him he’s got it wrong. Because the truth is that I used to think those things; and I’m not sure whether or not I still believe them.
Niall
“Don’t you have anything to say?”
“What do you want me to say? You’ve already said everything. You reached your own conclusion, didn’t you?”
Tyler hands me a box of cereal, but I gesture towards the one next to it. He puts it back and passes me the right one, which I throw into my trolley. Yep, it’s my turn to do the food shopping this morning: mainly because I’m the only member of the family with fuck all else to do during the day. I called Tyler after I dropped Skylar off at school, and invited him to have breakfast with me before heading to the supermarket. He told me he only had a few hours before he had to go home and get ready for his shift.
“So no more naughty messages after last night?”
“We don’t only send dirty texts.”
“But you didn’t text her either, did you?”
“I shouldn’t be the one to text first. If she had something to say to me, she’d have said it last night.”
“Don’t you think you’re acting like a stroppy little kid?”
“Whose side are you on, here?”
“Why do I have to choose sides?”
I grab the metal tongs and slip four chocolate-glazed doughnuts into a paper bag.
“Maybe you’re moving too quickly.”
I shrug like a moody teenager and drop the bag into my trolley.
“I’m being serious. You’re going too fast, Kerry. Some things take time, but you want to rush right to the final stage. Are you even sure you know what you’re doing?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
