Chapter 19
Nineteen
“I was a mess, too,” Miles said. “Especially when Bella was little. It’s so hard when they’re small and people tell you to enjoy every moment. It only makes you feel more guilty when most of the time, you’re barely surviving.”
Annie turned her head to look at him. He was so close to her. So close she could almost kiss him. “Well, you were grieving, too.”
“And you’re not grieving?” He turned to her, scrunching up his beautiful face. “I know it’s not the same, but you went through a divorce. You lost the person you thought Roy was, and you lost the life you thought you’d have.”
It was no good looking into his eyes like this, especially when he looked into her mind like that.
She turned back to face the milky white sky above her. “Stop being so empathetic. You’re going to make me spill my guts to you. Again.”
His laugh rang out, deep and long. “That’s not my intention.”
“Good.” She didn’t need to tell him about her problems. No one needed to hear the thoughts that swirled around in her head.
“You’re allowed to talk about it, though. You should know that,” he said.
She was silent for a long while, his words working past her defenses, past her excuses.
Finally, she said, “I don’t have time to grieve that life.”
The words hung between them. She looked over at him and he was propped up on one arm, watching her intently.
She went on. “It’s Noel and Leon’s lives I grieve. What type of family are they going to have? It doesn’t escape me that Roy is not a dedicated father.” A sigh hissed out of her, leaving her as deflated as she felt. “What type of dad did I pick for them?”
“That is not your fault,” Miles said firmly. “None of us know what kind of parents we’re going to be until we get there, let alone what kind of parents our partners will be.”
“I feel like,” she said slowly, “I should’ve known he was going to run for the hills. Somehow. There should’ve been a sign. I must have missed it.”
He remained quiet, eyes intent on her. After a moment, he said, “I know I’ve told you this before, but there’s a reason for the old joke about men leaving to get milk and never coming back.
It’s essentially what my dad did and—listen, I know it doesn’t make a disappointing parent any less disappointing—but it’s common. So common. And it’s not your fault.”
How heartbreaking that it was common, and that it had happened to Miles, and Noel, and Leon.
But if it was common, it meant people survived it, right?
Miles had survived it, and had gone on to be the most wonderful man on the planet.
Another meteor streaked across the sky. Her cheeks were frozen; her nose had to be bright red with cold, but she didn’t care. She was witnessing a miracle in the quiet, expansive universe, and she was experiencing it with Miles.
“I saw that one,” he said.
She looked over – his huge form lying next to her, his broad shoulders just touching hers, his chest rising and falling. What would it be like to lay her head on his chest, close her eyes, and drift to sleep? It would be the best rest she’d had in years.
“Why can’t Roy be like you?” Annie said, then regretted it as soon as she said it.
“You mean what Bella would tell you is an overprotective, cloying nuisance?” Miles suggested.
Annie scoffed. “No, that’s not you. Not at all. I’m sorry to inform you of this, but you’re like the perfect dad.”
He leaned in closer, their faces almost touching. “The perfect dad,” he repeated with a laugh. “Tell me more about how perfect I am.”
She lightly shoved his shoulder. He didn’t move. “It’s true. I’m embarrassed to even tell you about Roy. You must think he’s a monster, and that I’m – ”
“I can assure you, I’m not perfect. I don’t always do what I should.”
“Oh, you mean sometimes you run into the fire only ten times instead of eleven? That you only save the kittens and not the pet fish?”
“No.” His voice was deep now, gravelly. “Sometimes I do things I know I shouldn’t.”
Her heart jumped.
He leaned in, his face closer to hers.
A wind blew, but Annie no longer felt the cold. The ocean hummed beside them, looping as though time were standing still.
She locked eyes with Miles, not daring to say the wrong thing. He was going to kiss her. She could feel it, the way he was looking at her, how close he’d gotten…
He pulled away, laying on his back, his hands behind his head.
“I don’t think Roy is a monster.” His voice was normal again. “I think he’s depressingly average.”
“Depressingly average,” Annie repeated, laying back.
Way to misread the signs. Thankfully he couldn’t see the burning in her cheeks, or the burning in her chest, either.
Man, she was bad at this. It was like she’d only ever kissed one man – because she had.
“I think you’re extraordinary,” he said.
Her mouth ticked up in a half smile. “Thanks.”
“I mean it. I admire you in every way.” He turned his head. “Every way.”
Her heart leapt at the words. She’d told him he was the perfect dad. Somehow, he’d found something even nicer to say about her.
Annie spent the next few days replaying his words over and over. For once, she wasn’t kicking herself for complimenting him. He deserved to hear it, especially considering what he’d said to her.
Admired her in every way. Did that mean physically, too? It seemed to affirm that he had almost kissed her. She couldn’t have misread the situation that badly.
In that moment, her one wish had quickly turned to two. There were more than enough meteors to support two wishes: first, that her kids got the best father they could have out of Roy.
The second was that Miles would kiss her.
She knew he was not interested in a relationship. She knew he had turned down literally hundreds of women and he was the hottest man on the island – in every way.
It didn’t matter to her. One kiss. It didn’t have to mean anything; he didn’t have to commit to her. She just wanted that feeling to last a moment longer – the way he made her feel. Seen. Worthy. Alive.
In her more crazed moments, she told herself she’d kiss him herself the next chance she had.
Of course, she knew she wouldn’t.
That wish didn’t have much chance of coming true, but her first wish – she could do something about that.
Emboldened by his assessment of Roy, Annie did what she had been avoiding for ages.
She typed up an email to Roy about her visit to Seattle.
She was polite but firm, telling him she had toured the only daycare available to them (leaving out the potentially embittered comment that he was free to get the kids onto waitlists, too, if he was so eager for them to move), she’d found it unacceptable, and she couldn’t see herself moving the kids anytime in the near future, if at all.
She cited the lack of appropriate childcare, the lack of help, and the affordability.
The money was a constant issue for her. She was sick of feeling like a sheepish teenager every time she asked him for money, justifying everything like it was her fault the twins had outgrown all their clothes, or needed to size up in diapers, or simply needed to eat three square meals a day.
In the end, she calculated the twins were with her roughly ninety-six percent of the time, and kept this in the back of her mind when she asked if he could please set up a scheduled money transfer of three hundred dollars a month to help her support them.
She hit send with Miles’ words echoing in her head and his face hovering in her mind’s eye.