I straighten, handing the fern back. “Less water. More light. Fewer expectations.”
“You’ve explained that so easily!” The woman beams. “Thank you.”
The bell jingles again as the woman leaves, clutching Kevin with renewed hope, and the shop settles back into its leafy calm.
Juliette looks at me, smiling like she’s trying not to. “I leave you alone for thirty seconds.”
I shrug. “I adapt under pressure.” I glance at my phone and wince. “I’ve gotta run. Practice.”
“Of course,” she says.
I grab my jacket, slinging it over my shoulder, already wishing I didn’t have to leave. As I turn toward the door, she clears her throat. “Hey.”
I pause.
She steps closer, lowering her voice. “Can you—can I come outside with you for a second? I need to talk to you about something.”
My heart stutters. “Yeah.”
We slip out onto the sidewalk together, the door closing behind us, the city pressing in around us as everything suddenly feels very important. Outside may be busy with late-afternoon foot traffic, but it feels strangely private standing there with her, the shop windows behind us reflecting a softer version of reality.
“So.” Juliette draws in a breath. “Theo’s dad is in town.”
I nod, keeping my face neutral. “Okay.”
“He is good at appearing suddenly like this,” she continues. “I never really know how long he’ll stay. He has this habit of saying he’s here for a while and then disappearing the moment something shinier comes along.”
Juliette may say this casually, but I’m not filing this confession away under humor. A dad who says he’ll stay, then leaves. There’s a bang in my chest centered around Theo that makes every hair on my body stand on end. A kid like Theo, and a woman like Juliette, deserve so much more.
She shakes her head, a humorless little laugh escaping. “He wants to be part of Theo’s birthday.” Her eyes flick up to mine. “It would seem that means coming to the game.”
Ah-ha. It clicks.
“Oh,” I murmur. “The box.”
“Obviously, none of this is ideal,” she says, trailing off, like she doesn’t quite know how to finish the sentence.
But I do. The jumbotron. The breakup. Her nerves about arenas and cameras and being seen.
I exhale softly. “Wow. This just turned into a whole thing for you, didn’t it?”
She steps closer and puts her hand on my arm, just for a second. The contact is warm, grounding. Then she pulls back, tucking her hands into her pockets like she caught herself reaching for something she shouldn’t.
“Yeah,” she says. “I work really hard to make things easy for Theo. To make them feel…normal. So I told David it was up to you, because you’re being generous, but you don’t?—”
“No,” I interrupt gently. “It’s fine.”
She blinks. “It is?”
“Of course,” I say, even as something tight curls in my chest. I don’t love the idea of her ex walking into my world, into that box, into the space I was hoping might belong to us. Eventually.
But Theo comes first. And so does her peace.
“It’s cool,” I add. “He can come.”
Her shoulders drop, relief softening her whole posture. “Thank you.”
I meet her eyes. “We’ll make it a great day.”
