I tap my cheek with my finger. “Not even a kiss or a hi, missy?”
She rolls her eyes but leans in anyway, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before buckling her seatbelt.
I’m continually learning to keep up with all her phases, the constant shifting tides of who she’s becoming. And yet, I can’t stop missing the days when she used to run into my arms without me having to ask.
“Why isn’t he coming today, Mom?”
Theheshe’s talking about is her father.
Ever since he stepped back from the company—or rather, was forced to—he’s been the one taking her to school and picking her up. We haven’t seen each other since the divorce.
He parks by the driveway every morning, waits for her to come out, and brings her back later in the afternoon, always staying until she’s safely inside before driving away.
He’s also been taking her to ballet practice twice a week. And out for a bite to eat on Saturdays, whenever Alicia feels up to it.
To say I was surprised when he offered would be an understatement. After that first call, I even texted him to make sure he meant it.
He replied:Of course. I’ll take her to school and ballet from now on. You have my word, even if it doesn’t mean anything to you anymore.
And he kept it. Every single time.
Today, though, he had a last-minute change of plans and sent me a text hours ago, asking if I could pick her up. He even said he’d cancel whatever he had if I couldn’t make it.
After he stepped away from the company, I thought he’d find a way to be involved somehow. But from what Oliver told Felicity, it’s Jonathan who’s representing him now.
“Your dad had something come up,” I finally answer as I pull away from the school curb. “But he said he’ll pick you up later for ballet.”
Alicia scoffs under her breath, looking out the window.
“Let’s hope you or Ethan can take me. We both know what happens when he says he’ll make it on time.”
Something inside me aches at the sound of her voice. Sharp where there once was only sweetness and open trust. But I can’t blame her. All I can do is give her time. And space.
“He’s been showing up every day since he started, honey,” I say. “But if he can’t make it later, don’t worry. One of us will take you.”
Alicia plugs her phone into the car’s Bluetooth and starts playing one of her favorite playlists. She’s been listening to the same band so much lately that I already know half the lyrics by heart. We drive the rest of the way in silence.
And I can’t help but hope that today isn’t the beginning of Colin slipping back into old patterns.
“Mom, he wants to talk to you—he’s at the door,” Alicia says, dropping her bag carelessly by the entryway.
She’s still in her ballet leotard and leggings, her hair falling out of its bun. “Dinner’s almost ready, right? I’m starving.”
She looks at me with those pleading eyes she’s long since learned to use to her advantage. I glance at the bag on the floor, then back at her, tilting my head in a silent command.
“I’ll get it later, Mom, I’m hungry now,” she whines.
I shake my head, my tone even but firm.
“You know the rules, Alicia. Pick up your bag. If there’s anything to wash, it goes straight into the basket.” Her shoulders slump, and I add, “Dinner is at least half an hour away. Plenty of time to do that, take a shower, and come down when it’s ready.”
Alicia huffs, snatches her bag, and trudges toward the stairs, muttering under her breath about how I always find something for her to do.
She’s not wrong. The difference is, months ago, she used to do these things without me having to ask.
I draw in a breath and step out onto the porch. Colin stands with his back to me at the top of the steps, but turns the moment he hears the click of the door closing behind me.
It hits me like a wave.
