Chapter 3
Kai
“Dad, why do you keep looking at your phone?”
Startled out of my thoughts by Amari’s question, I glance over at her as she colors.
“I’m not,” I say, a little embarrassed that my daughter saw how many times I picked up the phone and put it down. Blakely’s text message from last night replays in my head.
Beautiful: Have a good night. Happy birthday.
I hate to admit it, but I always reread our text messages.
Eventually, I won’t have to reread them to feel closer to her, because she’ll be in my arms. I know it sounds pathetic, but I can’t move on.
I’ve been holding onto hope that one day I’ll be the man she wants.
I tried moving on, going on dates, and meeting new people.
But with every date I went on, something never felt right.
Until I stopped forcing myself to move on and realized it’s Blakely I want.
It’s always been her. She saw something in me that no one else saw.
And now, all I want is for her to see the man I’ve become. The man she knew I always could be.
I just need to get rid of that one problem that is standing in our way.
I told Blakely when we first found out that we were pregnant that I wanted to give her the life that she deserves.
A big house that she can come home to and raise our children in.
I don’t want her to worry about anything.
If she chooses to be a stay-at-home mom, I’ll support that.
If she chooses to have five more kids—or none—I’ll support that, too. I want to support and provide for her.
And that means I need to win her back.
"Yes, you are. You pour the pancake mix onto the pan and then lift your phone up and stare at it. Then, you set it back down once the pancake is done. Then,—”
"Okay, miss smarty pants. I get it.” I set my phone down and flip the pancake over. Since Amari spent a lot of time at her grandma’s house during her early years, she’s used to her grandma making pancakes every Sunday. She now requests them every Sunday, regardless of where she’s at.
“Is it beautiful you’re talking to?”
“Maybe.” Blakely is still saved in my phone as beautiful.
It’s been like that since the day she gave me her number.
I remember it so vividly. It was the first night I asked her to sneak out with me.
I wanted to spend more time with her. It wasn’t the best decision to ask her to sneak out, but it’s one I don’t regret.
I was young and selfish and only thought about what I wanted.
To my surprise, she agreed to sneak out, and we continued to sneak out until…
Well, until we had Amari.
“Have you kept our little secret from your mom?”
“Yes,” she says, grabbing another crayon from her enormous pack of ninety-six crayons.
When Amari was old enough to use my phone and read the names saved to numbers, she asked why her mom’s name was in there as beautiful.
I told her the story of when I first put her name and number in my phone.
She was very young, and I don’t think she comprehended anything from it.
After I told her about my history with her mom, I put my finger to my lips to indicate it would be our secret.
At the time, I didn’t want Blakely to know.
I was never sure if Amari had told her or not.
“Okay. Here are your pancakes.” I set the plate of stacked pancakes on the table.
I watch as she sets up her plate. She takes a pancake and places strawberries and bananas on top. Then, she grabs the syrup, drizzles it all around, and drops spoonfuls of whipped cream on top—just like her mother did when she was young. I’ve seen her do it to this day, too.
“What do you want to do today?” I ask her.
“Let’s go to the aquarium,” she says, her mouth full.
“Again?”
She nods while taking another bite of her pancake.
We go to the aquarium at least once every few months.
She nods again with her eyes wide. “They might have new fish.”
Chatter and laughter fill my ears as we walk into the aquarium.
The first time Amari came to the aquarium, she wasn’t even one year old yet.
I had taken her and Blakely here for a day date.
It was something I did to win her over again.
More like again and again. I knew she needed me to be more present as a family, and this was an idea I had.
But I didn’t think Amari was old enough to remember.
She says she doesn’t remember, but she always wants to come here. Deep down, I think she remembers.
“Where’s mom?” she asks as we walk over to the butterfly exhibit. This is Amari’s favorite part.
“She should be here soon.” Once I decided to appease Amari, I asked B if she wanted to join us.
We’ve always tried to do things as a family.
Since the time that we split, we’ve always made sure we coparent together in the best possible way for Amari.
The way we were both raised without our dads has everything to do with it.
She didn’t want that for her daughter. She’s never come right out and said it about me being raised without a dad, but I know it’s part of the reason, too.
Even when I was fucking up. She was always there, trying to get us to spend time together.
Back then, I thought she did this because she didn’t trust me alone with our daughter and, of course, I would start an argument about it.
That girl has always been so patient with me.
That’s why I know I need to get her back and give her what she deserves.
“Hi.”
I look over my shoulder and see B standing there with her short, dark brown hair that she wanted to cut to give herself a change.
I wish she kept it long to match Amari. Amari has the same dark brown hair.
We’ve only ever given Amari trims since she was born, so her hair runs down to the middle of her back.
I love how those two would always match.
Amari is her mother’s little twin. Everything that B wanted. A little version of her.
“Hey,” I say as I turn around. I stop dead in my tracks as I see who’s behind her.
It’s him. Dr. Davis. Mr. Fucking Surgeon, I say sarcastically in my head.
Of course she would bring him. I don’t know why I thought differently.
I reach in for a hug and squeeze her a little tighter as both my cheeks rise at Liam behind her.
After our hug, I raise my hand up to Liam. “Hi,” I say monotone.
“Hey, man,” he greets me, reciprocating my handshake. “Happy late birthday.”
“Thank you.”
“Mom. Look.” Amari points to a group of butterflies flying around. Both she and B walk toward the exhibit.
Great. Now I’m stuck with him.
When B first started dating other people, I was angry and hurt.
None of them lasted, because no one in their early twenties wanted to be a stepdad and have the baby daddy around.
This makes me sound like a big asshole, but it gave me a leg up on the competition.
It was an advantage I never knew I needed.
It also helped me push myself even more to work on myself.
I’ll admit, it was hard watching her with someone else—and even harder to watch her cry over them because she had a daughter and a baby daddy.
Even though I knew part of those tears were because of the position I put her in, I was still there for her, giving her a shoulder to cry on.
Deep down, I knew I still had a lot to work on, so I never really used those tears to my advantage like some assholes would.
Then, when I finally felt like I had been making positive strides and stood a chance with B, she met Liam.
When she told me about him, I thought he was going to be like every other guy.
The more she told me about him, the more worried I got.
He was mature, ready to settle down, and had a great career.
On top of all of that, he wanted to meet me before he met Amari.
I had to give him respect for that. Even so, I was ready for the challenge of winning her back.
We were already close enough, but I started hanging around more and inviting her places.
Sometimes Liam came, sometimes he didn’t.
Usually, when he wasn’t around, it was because he was at work.
Some days and nights are long for him. The more he was around, the more I realized how much more mature he was than the other guys she’d been with.
He didn’t seem to mind that I’m in the picture.
Then, she moved in with him. The moment she told me they were moving in together, my stomach sank.
It twisted and turned for weeks. It still does sometimes.
Here we are, nine months later. He treats Amari and B better than I expected.
Sometimes I feel bad for what I’m doing—trying to take my family back.
But then again, I don’t. Because they’re my family.
“How was your birthday?” he asks.
“It was chill. I’m happy to have spent it with my daughter and brother. And now spending it with them two,” I say as I tilt my chin in Blakely and Amari’s direction. Every time I make comments like this, he doesn’t seem to care. No guy can be this mature.
“How’d you like your gift Amari got you?”
“It’s nice.” I lift my arm up to show him the jacket I’m wearing.
He looks over at me. “That is a nice jacket.”
“It sure is. I’m sure B enjoyed helping Amari shop for it.”
“I bet she did. Especially with her newly acquired shopping addiction.”
Sometimes I wonder if she had a shopping addiction back when we were teenagers, and she stopped since we couldn’t afford it. I’ve seen her closet packed with so many clothes, shoes, handbags, jewelry, perfumes, and makeup. Anything girly—you name it, she has it.
I decide to head in the direction B and Amari wandered off in, leaving Liam and all thoughts about how to get him out of the picture behind.
For today, at least.
A couple hours later, all four of us are sitting at the food court while eating lunch. Amari got hungry after walking through the whole aquarium. She loves pretzels—just like her mom. We can never leave without getting them one.
“Can I go see the butterflies one last time before we leave?” Amari asks, looking at me and her mom.
Before any of us can say anything, Liam says, “I can take you.”
“Okay,” she says and scoots off the chair.
I watch as he takes Amari’s hand in his, and they walk over to the exhibit. “So, how much longer are you going to keep this guy around?” I ask as I glance back toward B.
Her eyes widen, and her mouth drops. “What the hell? Where did that come from?”
“It’s only a question,” I say, crossing my arms over one another.
“A dumb one.”
“How is it dumb?” I question.
“I thought you liked him,” she says, setting down the last bite of her pretzel.
I shrug my shoulders in silence.
“Are you seeing anyone?” she asks.
“No. But I have my eyes on someone,” I say, narrowing my gaze at her.
“Oh?” She raises her brows in surprise. “Who?”
“Someone.”
She gives me a smirk. “I hope I meet that someone if you guys end up together.”
“You will.”
I hope she still knows how much I want her and our family back together.
My words haven’t always felt impactful when it comes to the woman in front of me. So, over the past four years, I vowed to let my actions speak for themselves. Now, I’ve finally broken my silence and told her I’m after someone.
She has to know that someone is her.