Hope
Zac zooms past me the moment I open the front door, kicking his shoes aside and narrowly missing the pot plant by the entrance. I send up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening, begging for the patience to handle a child who has clearly been fuelled on nothing but sugar all afternoon—no thanks to my brother, and is now ricocheting through the house with boundless energy.
“No TV before shower,” I call after him, scooping up his discarded shoes and setting them neatly back on the shoe rack in the hallway.
A faint, disgruntled ‘Aww, man,’ follows as he disappears into his room to probably grab some clean clothes. Five minutes later, the shower turns on, and his enthusiastic, off-key singing floats throughout the house.
We’ve only just gotten home—Zac from a day with his uncle and cousins, and me from time spent with Kaden. It still feels surreal that after more than a year of no contact,we ran into each other by pure coincidence at the farmer’s market. Even stranger was discovering he lives only a suburb away, in an apartment I’d just been in, helping him find the perfect spots for his new plants. I mean, how does something like that even happen?
Surprisingly, my day with him went far better than I expected. I had braced myself for awkward silences or uncomfortable moments, yet, to my relief, I ended up genuinely enjoying myself. I appreciated that he didn’t pry too much into my divorce with Adrian, in fact, we barely spoke about him besides the general ‘how is it going?’ questions. The last thing I needed was to dwell on my ex, and even bringing him up would have soured my mood for the rest of the day.
I learned a little more about Kaden today, which helped settle some of my nerves and made him feel less unfamiliar. He may still be a stranger in many ways, but my perception of him is starting to shift.He doesn’t seem as broken as he did that day we met, and the sadness that once lingered in his eyes has softened. He did mention he’s been working on some projects and has a therapist, so maybe, that’s helped him heal, in some small way.
Whatever he’s doing is clearly working. If only I could say the same. I still haven’t found my way into therapy, even though I made sure Zac did. Life just keeps crowding in—long work hours, single parenting, house repairs, endless chores—until there’s very little left for me. Still, I’d choose this life over being trapped in a marriage built on lies and betrayal.
As I wait for Zac to finish up, I wander into the kitchen and pull a few takeaway menus from the top drawer, my gaze snagging on the drawer below it with a missing handle, an unwelcome reminder that I still need to call Mark, the carpenter, tomorrow while I’m at work.
I set the menus down on the countertop and spread them out for Zac. If I’m going to break the sad news that his dad won’t be seeing him next weekend—again, I might as well do it over his favourite takeaway meal. I’m not sure how he’ll take it, but however it lands, I’m determined to make our time together enough to soften the disappointment, and to remind him he is loved, wanted, and never alone.
Fifteen minutes later, he saunters into the kitchen already in his pyjamas, smelling of bubble gum soap. His hair is damp and unbrushed, waves sticking out in every direction, and the wild energy he had earlier from his sugar high is finally wearing off.
He climbs up onto one of the stools, rests his elbows on the edge of the counter, and leans forward, quietly inspecting the menus laid out in front of him.
“Are we ordering dinner tonight?” he asks.
“Yes we are, and lucky for you, it’s your turn to choose.”
“Oh, cool!”
He slides the menus towards him, taking his time as he weighs his options. For a full minute, he flips between sushi and Vietnamese before finally settling on Mexican burritos. It’s hard not to smile or laugh at his indecision—the Gemini in him, forever torn, only to settle on a choice that seems completely out of left field.
I tap our order through the food delivery app and pay, and we make our way to the living room, settling in front of the TV to wait for our food.
“Do you have a movie in mind that you’d like to watch tonight?”
“Um... maybeThe Sea Beast?”
“Good choice, sonny boy.”
I scroll through the movie selection, my eyes landing on it almost immediately. I click on the title, and the movie appears on the screen in seconds, but I don’t press start just yet.
“Hey, buddy...can we talk for a minute? It’s about next weekend.”
“What about it?”
“I know you were meant to spend time with Dad, but unfortunately, he won’t be able to come down to visit.”
“Again? Why?”
“He has something he can’t change right now, and that’s all there is to it.”
He sighs deeply, nodding as though he already sees the pattern forming, one where his father continues to back out of their arranged plans. But he says nothing.
“I know it’s disappointing, and it’s okay to feel sad or annoyed about it. I’d feel that way too. But just know this isn’t because of anything you did.”
“So, he’s not mad at me?”
“Of course not. Why would he be mad at you? He loves you more than anything.”
