Zach catches my eye while I clutch Ella’s water bottle as though it’s going to save me. His eyes go dark.
Disappointment. Betrayal. Anger.
It’s all I see, and shame slithers up my spine. So much so that I could violently vomit right now and my stomach would still be churning.
I didn’t talk to him. I should’ve talked to him. I should’ve known that the secret would come out. I can’t keep anything from him.
“There’s my favorite girl!” Zach calls out, crouching just in time to scoop Ella into his arms as she launches herself toward him. He lifts her effortlessly, settling her on his hip like he hasn’t just discovered the most explosive secret I’ve ever kept.
He angles his body, subtly but deliberately blocking Jamie from Ella’s line of sight. A line he’s clearly decided Jamie doesn’t get to cross.
“Are you excited for your class?” he asks her brightly.
“Yes!” Ella beams. “I wanna throw the ball like those guys!”
She points to the coaches, completely oblivious. Pure joy, pure light. My daughter is untouched by any of this, even though I’ve officially lost control.
Zach is here. Jamie is here. And oh, because apparently, I haven’t suffered enough, Reese is still standing awkwardly by my side, watching it all unfold.
Right. Reese. Sweet, warm, safe Reese. Who’s here because of course he trains kids in his spare time. He’s just that kind of guy.
Panic blooms in my chest like a bomb going off in slow motion.
This is a disaster. I orchestrated this whole thing to be calm. Controlled. One-on-one, and now I’m standing in the middle of a crowded field—my past staring me down, my self-appointed bodyguard planted at his side, and the only man who’s dared to ask me out since Ella was born standing at mine.
Zach laughs. “You’ve got the Evans genes in you, babe. You’ll throw farther than any kid here. I promise you.”
Reese’s voice is low as he leans in, just enough that I feel the warmth of him without it being obvious.
“Tiff—who is the guy awkwardly kicking dust behind Zach?”
His tone isn’t accusing, but it carries weight. His eyes flick toward Jamie, lingering for just a second too long.
I open my mouth, then close it again, suddenly aware of how wildly unprepared I am to answer that question.
“I—it’s complicated,” I finally say, barely able to look at him.
Reese holds my gaze for a long beat. He doesn’t press. He doesn’t need to. I can feel how much I’ve already said without saying anything. He knows something is going on, but he’s probably got the wrong idea.
Zach’s voice cuts through the tension. He’s crouched beside Ella now, pointing at a football she’s just barely managing to hold in both of her hands.
“Come on, man,” he calls out to Reese. “You’re the coach here, not me.”
Ella claps her hands and beams. “Reese, can you show me how to catch?”
Reese throws me one last glance before jogging over to them. “You got it, superstar.”
Zach sets the ball down in front of her, tapping it with the side of his shoe. As Reese approaches, Zach lifts his chin and gives Jamie a long, unreadable look. It’s not a threat, not exactly—but it’s a warning all the same.
“I’m watching you,” he says loud enough for us to hear before working with Ella.
Jamie’s still standing slightly behind me, but he doesn’t respond to Zach. Neither do I. Instead, I watch Ella for a few seconds, happy that she’s… happy.
Jamie shifts his weight, and, when he comes into view, he clears his throat.
I force myself to meet his gaze and take in those devastatingly dark eyes that look just as pretty as the night I first met him.
Every memory. Every emotion I felt from that night comes flooding back, and I hate that I feel butterflies. I shouldn’t be feeling anything like this. I don’t have the mental bandwidth to deal with how hot I still find my baby daddy.