Hunter:That was strategy. Distract
the competition.
Me:Right. Sure. Keep telling
yourself that.
Hunter:Admit it. You had fun.
I hesitated, thumb hovering. Admitting I’d had fun felt risky since it meant wanting more, and wanting more always carried the chance of disappointment. But the truth was there. My cheeks still ached from laughing.
Me:Fine. Maybe I did. Don’t let it
go to your head.
Hunter:Too late. It’s already there.
I tossed the phone onto the couch, as if I could put some distance between myself and the giddiness bubbling up inside me. Twenty-five, single mom, bills, classes, laundry piling up. Yet here I was, feeling like a teenager with a crush.
Still, when the phone buzzed again, I reached for it like it was air.
Hunter:So… second date? Or are
you tooscared to lose again?
My heart stuttered. He wasn’t running. He wanted more.
Me:We’ll see. Don’t you know you’re
supposed to wait three business
days before asking?
Hunter:Pretty sure that rule
was invented by people who
didn’t have my charm
Me:Wow. Modest too.
Hunter:You’ll learn to appreciate it.
I curled up on the couch, warmth spreading through me even as the old voice whispered in my ear. The one that said I was too much, that no one stayed, that I came with too much baggage.The voice left behind by the man who walked away, who chose freedom and late nights while I pieced together a life for three babies under five.
Then one last buzz.
Hunter:Goodnight, Beautiful.
Sweet dreams. Don’t practice
too hard without me.
Me:Goodnight. Thanks for making
me laugh tonight.
I turned off the lamp, curled onto my side, and let the thoughts slip into the dark.
