I grimace. “I think he’s developed separation anxiety since I left him with Ethan last week.”
Alex glances at the kitchen door leading to the alley and sighs. “Mia’s having a tough time with separation, too.”
My heart aches. “I’m sorry, Alex.”
“Me, too.” He gives me a sad half smile. “It’s rough.”
“Is that part of why the week’s been hard?” I ask. “You took her back to Jen?”
“Yeah, today was our custody-switch day, which was tough. And the past few days, Mia’s been a ball of very big emotions. Understandably.” He sighs, then has a spoonful of gelato.
“I’m sure it’s a lot for her to try to make sense of. Hopefully, it’ll get a little easier for her as it gets more familiar.”
“Hopefully,” he says, before another spoonful of gelato.
I take a bite, too.
Around his mouthful Alex says, “Divorce sucks.”
“It sucks donkey dong.”
He snorts. “Donkey dong?”
I laugh so hard, I almost spit out my gelato. “I overheard a kid say that to his dad at The Bookshop last week. I almost peed myself.”
“Mia will be saying shit like that to me before I know it,” Alex mutters. “That child is not afraid to speak her mind.”
I smile. “I think that means you’re doing something really right.”
He’s silent for a beat, then says, “I hope so.”
I clasp his hand and squeeze. Alex stares down at my hand wrapped around his, and suddenly I’m self-conscious. It was an instinct, to reach out and comfort him the way I love to be comforted, but maybe Alex isn’t a physical-touch kind of guy. Maybe his love language is words of affirmation or gifts or acts of service. I start to pull my hand away, but Alex turns his hand quickly and catches mine inside his, squeezing back. Even harder than I did.
His eyes meet mine as his thumb brushes my palm. It’s only a small tenderness, yet heat bolts through me.
For a moment in Luna’s kitchen, eyes locked with Alex as he held her hand, Thea felt a sun-warm wash of comfort sink through her skin, her bones, seeping deeper, until it settled in her heart, a glowing ember. She felt cared for. She felt desire. She felt hopeful. Maybe one day feelings like these wouldn’t merely drift by but endure. Maybe one day she’d only feel battle-scarred, not indelibly broken. Maybe one day she wouldn’t only hold hands with a kind, handsome man who made her laugh and made her feel safe—
Alex squeezes my hand again, wrenching me back to reality, before he lets go. He clears his throat as he scoops up another spoonful of gelato, then says, “How’s your six-flavor combo?”
“So good.” I shove a heap of gelato into my mouth, hoping it’ll cool me down. “Yours?”
“Yep, it’s good.” He pokes around his bowl, then peers my way.
His gaze lingers long enough that I pause, spoon hovering in front of my mouth. “What is it?”
He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “Been thinking about what you said the other night, you know, after we—”
“Told a huge vengeful fib to our exes?”
“That, yep.” He clears his throat again. “I felt bad, after you left.”
“Why?”
“Because you paid me a really nice compliment,” he says, “and I was so caught up in my shitty feelings, I didn’t do the same.”
“Oh.” I shrug. “I didn’t expect you to.”
Alex leans in. “That’s not how this friendship is going to go, Ted. You hyped me up. I should have hyped you up, too. So now I’m going to do that.”
