“Me too, son. But I don’t think she’ll ever come home while she feels like she’s coming between us.” I blow into the hot drink Lauren made me, the aroma filling the room with luxury.
“Is that the only reason you’re here? So you can patch things up with her?”
“That’s not fair.” I run a hand over my face, tired of going over the same ground.
He grabs his car keys from the sideboard. “You got your five minutes. I gotta go.”
“Mason.”
“Yeah?” He hesitates at the door, back still to me.
“There’ll be a place set for you on Christmas Day if you want to come for dinner.”
“Will she be there?”
“If she wants to come, yes.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’ll always come first, but don’t make me choose between you both.”
He glances back and gives me a nod. “I’ll think about it.”
I let out a breath because that’s a start. “Merry Christmas, son. ”
The door shuts behind him, leaving me and Lauren alone.
I take another gulp of the drink, enjoying the creamy cappuccino. “It’s good stuff.”
“Doug likes the hot cocoa best.”
I snigger. “Does he have sprinkles too?”
She rolls her eyes with a smile. “Stop it. Not everyone is a macho man like you, Flint.”
“Macho man, huh?” I smirk behind my mug. “Isn’t that a song from the eighties?”
“What were you thinking, Flint?” She shakes her head, a mix of disappointment and smug satisfaction that she’s not the bad parent this time.
“I don’t know, Lauren. Probably that I might get another chance at happiness again.” I take another gulp, needing something to wash away the bitterness on my tongue. Being with my ex has that effect on me.
“Eighteen though, Flint. Is this a midlife crisis or something?”
“She’s almost nineteen. And…” I shrug. “Maybe. She’s the first person I’ve fallen in love with since…”
Her perfectly shaped eyebrows shoot up. “You love her?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out between us.”
“No, you’re not.”
“All right, I’m not. But I am sorry for how I treated you. You deserve to be happy, and if this girl makes you happy, then…” She places her mug down on the countertop. “Maybe you shouldn’t let her go. Mason will get over it. I’ll talk to him.”
“Thanks, Lauren.” I drink the rest of the cappuccino and place the mug on the counter.
As I step outside, Drake’s having a heart-to-heart with Mason.
Mason kicks the snow, head bowed, nodding as if agreeing with him. Then he climbs into his car and drives away before I reach the road.
“What did you say to him?” I ask Drake.
