Mark swiped the ugly wig off his head and threw it on the living room
floor.
“Ew, Dad. That’s disgusting.” Chloe made a huge circle around him and
his discarded hairpiece. “What’s for lunch?” She headed into the kitchen.
Mark put his hands on the back of a chair and leaned forward.
“Whatever you want.” He didn’t care if he ever ate again. Watching Allie
walk away this morning was like having half his heart peeled away. He
squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. For the life of him, he couldn’t
figure out how to let what had started with Allie continue and keep his life
free of the drama family court judges frowned upon.
“Dad?” Chloe called from the kitchen. “How do you turn on the oven?”
He pushed off from the couch and hurried into the kitchen. “What’s
going on in here?”
“I wanted lasagna.” She thunked the chunk of frozen Italian goodness
onto the counter.
Mark reached above the fridge to retrieve a cookie tray. He opened the
box and slid the aluminum pan out. The instructions were simple enough—
they included illustrations—and yet he couldn’t think past getting the box
open.
“Dad!” Chloe waved her hand in front of his face. “Are you thinking
about that woman—the pretty one?”
He nodded and turned around to preheat the oven to 425 degrees.
“She seemed really nice.”
“She is,” he said to the stove top, unable to put on a happy face for his
daughter. Allie was more than nice. She was ... charitable. Like, pure love
of Christ kind of charity.
“So, are you going to date her?”
He flipped around in time to see the uncertainty on Chloe’s face.
“Would that be bad?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think so—not with her. With that Aspen woman,
