Page 138 of Protecting Love

Fletcher had knocked before he opened it, asked what happened, but his son said he didn’t want to talk.

He debated texting his ex, but then told himself, he’d give it a day.

Ian was getting better about opening up. His son was coming into his own.

The past Sunday, his fear of Ian meeting Paris was for nothing.

His son whipped up a spread of waffles, bacon and some frittata egg thingy.

Whatever it was, it was great.

Paris laughed, she talked with his son. They bonded over sports and video games that her younger brothers played.

And when his girlfriend left, his son told him he’d liked Paris.

That approval meant more than he thought it would.

But then when his son found out Lorraine was coming to town, Ian’s mood changed.

Fletcher had to all but force the dinner last night and hated that.

Hated that he’d thought he’d gotten through to his son before to do the right thing.

His office door was shut, he slid his finger across the screen and answered. “Hello.”

“We need to talk,” Lorraine said.

“We are.”

“No, face to face.”

He sighed.

He wanted to say no. That he was busy. That he was at work.

That they had nothing to say to each other.

But that wasn’t true.

There was so much the two of them should have said for years.

Now it was just an echo in his head making him doubt every action he made.

“When and where do you want to meet?”

She gave him the place and time; he hung up and grabbed his phone to shove in his pocket.

Thirty minutes. Not a lot of time. But typical.

He didn’t have to report his whereabouts to anyone. He put enough time in.

When he walked into the bar, he found Lorraine sitting off to the side with a glass of wine in front of her.

She looked different. More polished. More put together.

Nothing like the woman he’d been married to.

But he didn’t know that woman either.