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He exhales through the phone. “Well, I guess this is as good a time as any to mention that I had a date this weekend.”
My head jerks back, but I keep my eyes on the road. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” There’s a hint of a smile in his voice. “Her name is Sabrina. She’s twenty-six, so a bit younger than me, but she’s really fucking easy to talk to. She’s a teacher at the elementary school, just moved to Garnet Valley this year, and she’s fucking gorgeous. Long brown hair, blue eyes, and a fucking mesmerizing smile.”
“Damn, Owen. I take it you’re planning on seeing her again then?”
“Yeah, I am.” He grows quiet for a beat. “I’m—I’m tired of being alone, Easton.”
“I know that feeling all too well, man.”
“I know it’s early, but there was something there, and I’m going to fucking explore it,” he continues. “Which is why I think you should do the same. Life is too fucking short not to live in the moment, right?”
“Yeah. You’re right.”
“Then talk to your wife tonight. Figure out where her head is, and if there’s a chance this marriage could become everything you’ve ever wanted, then fucking fight like hell for it. That’s one regret I hate living with.”
I know he’s talking about Sloane, but he doesn’t even have to say her name for me to know that.
“Thanks, Owen.”
“Anytime, little brother. Now let me get off of here so I can get some work done.”
“I thought you were an impeccable multitasker.”
He laughs. “I lied. As soon as you brought up Mom and Lennon, I knew this conversation would need my full attention.”
“Tell Mom I said hello. I’ll try to stop by sometime this week.”
“I will, but don’t feel like you have to. You have your own family now, Easton. They should always come first.”
A family of my own.
My family.
The family I’ve always wanted with the girl I’ve always wanted.
Yeah, it’s time to fucking fight for what I know is right, whatever the cost.
***
“Lennon?” The second I walk through the front door, I can focus on only one thing—finding my wife.
The lights are on in the main part of the house and Lennon’s books are scattered all over the dining room table as usual. She already has the hockey game on the TV, and I’m fairly certain she has some sort of meal cooking in the oven or just finished eating, judging by the smell of food.
But there’s no sign of her.
“Lennon?” I call out for her again.
“Back here!” The faint sound of her voice comes from the end of the hallway, which means she must be in our bedroom.
Only when I turn through the doorway, I’m caught off guard by what I see. Lennon is standing in front of the full-length mirror in the corner, pushing out her stomach more than it already is, judging herself as she stands to the side.
Crossing my arms, I lean against the doorjamb and watch. She seems oblivious to my presence. “Whatcha doin’?”
She spins to face me, an irritated pout on her lips. And even though I know she’s not laughing, I have to fight my own smile and remain in my spot for a few more seconds instead of rushing over to her to kiss her the way I’ve imagined all day.
“I’m just trying to get a sense of what I’m going to look like when I get fatter.”
