“Yesterday. I went to a snake shop with five children.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I knew it wasn’t, but I missed the good old days when Dom’s interest in my personal life—or lack of one—consisted of him forgetting I had kids.
Thankfully, I was saved from further scrutiny by Lucky coming home from work.
Dom’s attention was instantly diverted, tracking Lucky’s every step until his blond head appeared around the door.
He gazed at Dom for a full thirty seconds before treating me to his sunny grin. “Cash and Rae went to Ireland this morning. Do you think we can risk getting some dirty burgers or something?”
I chuckled. “Cash would sniff it out in a second. If you want to fall off the veggie wagon, I’d advise doing it in the garden.”
Lucky stuck his bottom lip out. “It’s too cold for a picnic.”
“We can go out,” Dom said.
“Nah. I like feeding Isha at the kitchen table. Makes me worry less that he’s living on vile hotel food.”
Jesus Christ. I rolled my eyes. “I’m not living on hotel food, thanks. I have a perfectly good kitchen at home, and a year’s supply of birthday cake. I left some in your fridge, by the way.”
It was enough to get rid of Lucky, without him pointing out that it had been months since I’d last used my oven. Dom watched him go, his gaze hungry. I had another go at the ocular Olympics and shoved a contract I needed him to check across the table. “Sign there and we’re done for that day.”
“Hmm?”
“Just sign it, mate. I’ve got somewhere to be.”
“You’re not staying for dinner?”
“No thanks.”
“Isha.”
“Dom.” I waved a pen under his nose. “Just get it done, yeah? I haven’t got time for whatever psychoanalysis you’ve read on the back of Lucky’s cereal box.”
I realised too late that I’d given myself away. That my acknowledgment of his apparent need to get in my head was actually a thing.
Dom took the pen from me and signed the contract without looking at me, trusting me in a way I’d fought hard to get back after I’d let him down a long time ago. “Look,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but if it’s that old schtick about being a shit dad, you can forget it. I already know Tam had an amazing party because he FaceTimed me last night to tell me.”
“Did he?”
“Yeah. About ten seconds after he got to Mina’s parents’ place.”
“He didn’t FaceTime me.”
“Did you want him to?”
I didn’t know how to answer that. My relationship with my kids was complicated. I loved them more than life, but recovering from years of fucking up had left me with a guilt complex I could never quite shift. Tam hadn’t called because he wasn’t sure I’d answer. And I hadn’t called him because it hadn’t occurred to me that he’d want me to.
Did I wish he’d called me instead of Dom?
I gathered up the paperwork, blocking out Dom’s heavy sigh. “I’m glad he had a good time, but to be honest, that had more to do with the bloke who runs the shop. The cake was good, though. Are we done here?”
“Yeah, Isha. We’re done.”
Thank fuck for that. I left the house and made my way to the street where I’d left my car. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I didn’t react. Winter nights seemed to bring out the crazy in this part of the city and walking alone with a flashy phone in my hand was a risky game. A moped shot by me. I kept my head down, hands in my pockets, not looking up until I was next to my car.
Only when I was behind the wheel with the doors locked did I pull out my phone and realise I’d missed a call from Mina and a message from Jude. My thumb hovered over the message app, butterflies dancing a rave in my stomach, but my non conversation with Dom echoed in my head. I need to be a better man.