EIGHT
April 2026
HARPER
“How was school today, hon?”I ask Bruiser over the phone as I drive down the highway.
Bruiser makes a noncommittal noise. “Good. But Dad’s about to take me to laser tag, so that’s awesome.”
I smile wistfully as I keep my eyes on the road. Z is a good dad. I have to keep reminding myself of that sometimes.
“Is that your mom on the phone?” I hear Z’s voice over the speaker, a little distant, and then clearer on the line. “Harp?”
I swallow and then nod, which is ridiculous since he can’t see it.
“Hey,” I say, trying to sound cheerier than I feel. It’s been… weird between us lately. But it’s bound to be weird between two separated parents just starting to think about making a go of it again.
I left his ass that night he cost me everything and said I couldn’t leave him because he was all I had left.
He’d miscalculated.
I had my son and I wasn’t going to be the kind of mother who showed Bruiser that the way Z treated us was acceptable.
I think Z was stunned by the boundaries I put between us that turned out to be more like concrete walls. But maybe it got through to him in a way my years of arguing hadn’t.
For the last two years Z’s been working his ass off—both on the job and in Narcotics Anonymous—to prove he can make the effort be steady enough to be back into our lives.
We went on our fresh “first date” a month ago.
I still don’t know what to think about it.
We were together almost eight years, and there was a lot of shit that went down I’m still not sure if I can let go of.
That last night wasn’t the only time Z showed up high off his ass, and sometimes the things he did when he wasn’t himself still haunt me.
But God knows nobody’s perfect in this life. How am I supposed to deal with someone like Zedekiah, who I’ve loved as long as I can remember and whose damage I understand so deeply? It’s like I’m starting to trust that gut place inside me that tells me where the line is.
It used to be: you can treat me like trash as long as you treat our kid great.
Now it’s: you gotta treat both our kidand megreat.
Well, at least you've gotta treat me with respect. It’s not like I’m not a work in progress, too. And so is Z.
And he reallyistrying.
Am I supposed to punish him forever if he’s proving he can change?
I frown and stare hard at the road unspooling in front of me, trying to find something to say. “Kiddo just told me you guys are heading off to laser tag. That sounds fun.”
“Oh yeah, should be a blast.” Z sounds careful, like he always does when he talks to me these days. It’s weird, these stunted versions of ourselves when it used to be so natural to be around each other. “We’re gonna pick up Shawn and his dad. Should be a good time.”
I snicker. “You hate Shawn’s dad.”
“Yeah, but I get to run around blasting him with a fake gun and proving how much better I am than him.”
I roll my eyes. “That sounds more like the Z I know.”
“The Z you love,” he says, voice light and teasing.