“Okay,” she drawls out. “But boundaries are something very different to ghosting, which is what you’re doing.”
“I’m not—”
“He’s the father of your child. You can’t just pretend that kiss didn’t happen.”
I glance down at Ella, who’s happily humming her favoriteIced Outsong as she skips to the dance studio. Madison’s right. Iknowshe’s right, but that doesn’t make this any easier.
“I don’t know what to say to him,” I admit quietly.
That’s the worst part about it all. While I’ve been avoiding Jamie as though my life depends on it, he’s let me. He hasn’t sent me any desperate texts or shown up unannounced. He’s been nothing but respectful, which means the ball is firmly in my court.
“How about 'hi'? Start there. Work your way up to actual sentences.” Madison's voice softens slightly. “Tiff, he's been good. He hasn't pushed, but you can't keep hiding forever. You need to talk to him.”
“Mommy, I need to get my shoes!” Ella tugs at my hand, bouncing on her toes.
“One second, baby.” I turn slightly away from her. “Madison, I have to go. Ballet's starting soon.”
“Promise me you'll talk to him. Today.”
Ella skips ahead toward the rec center. “I promise I’ll think about it.”
“Tiffany Marie Bright, that’s not—”
“Bye, Madison.” I end the call before she can guilt me any further and help Ella through the door.
We’re the first ones there when we enter the reception area, so I guide Ella to a bench and help her with her ballet slippers before I check the time.
“We’re here about ten minutes early, sweetie.”
“That’s okay. Can I go in and practice?”
And by practice, she means skip, around the hall until she’s out of breath. I look through the viewing window and note thatthe teacher is already in there. When she sees me, she gestures to bring Ella in.
“Go ahead, baby. I’ll be right outside watching like I always am.”
“Love you, Mommy,” she says as she skips into the room.
“Love you, too,” I call back.
More girls come through the door as I find my usual spot on the bench at the corner of the studio window. A couple of moms sit close by, talking and laughing, but I find myself watching the couple at the opposite end of the window. The father is pointing and smiling at the little girl inside the hall.
Guilt pangs in my chest as I watch him wave at his daughter adoringly, looking as though she’s the only thing that matters to him.
I’ve only ever seen that look on one other person.
Jamie.
Whenever he sees Ella his face softens, his smile widens, and his eyes are filled with wonder.
He loves her. Even though he’s barely spent any time with her, it’s obvious that he loves her more than he’ll ever admit.
Suddenly, I’m not just overwhelmed with guilt, but with anger and a little resentment.
My father never looked at me like that. In fact, he only looked at me after he’d had at least a bottle of whiskey to himself.
That was when his true feelings would come out.
He never showed up for me, but that’s because he didn’t want to.