Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Penelope
Decker walks through the gate, tall and loose-limbed, as always. He doesn’t look toward me. Instead, he goes straight to Hayes. They talk, heads bent as if they’re discussing something serious.
“Did you ask him to come?” There’s a note of teasing to Leighton’s voice.
“No.” I’m trying to read Decker and Hayes’s lips across the yard as though I’m the lead detective in a spy movie.
Hayes points toward one of the stations, directing Decker where to go, but he doesn’t get two steps before Hazel and Monroe intercept him. They fling themselves at his legs as if he’s the latest Disney star, and he says something that makes them scurry off, giggling.
Hazel darts away to do whatever he asked, then looks back over her shoulder. Her eyes find mine. And she smiles so wide it tugs something inside my chest that I don’t want tugged.
This is trouble.
Not because Decker is here. Not even because he’s smiling at my kid as though she means something to him.
Because Hazel is happy to see him.
Because I know that look.
It’s the same look she had when she was a year old and I thought I’d finally gotten rid of all the pacifiers—packaged them for the fairy, had a ceremony, the whole production—until I checked her room before bed and found her sucking on one as if she’d been hiding her favorite thing for weeks.
“Why can’t you and Decker…” Leighton keeps her voice low. “You have a past, and I know he has feelings for you.”
I don’t want to have this conversation here, where the school moms could turn us into an instant rumor. Plus, I need to shut it down, otherwise I’ll allow hope to sink in. Her words open a door I’m not brave enough to walk through.
“It’s… there’s a lot of history. A friendship.”
Leighton frowns. “A friendship where you haven’t talked in almost a decade?”
“Didn’t you just marry your best friend’s brother this offseason who you’d had a crush on since high school?”
She chuckles. “Touché.”
I shrug. “It’s complicated.”
Her mouth quirks. “Isn’t it always?”
I could entertain Leighton’s version, where Decker’s been pining for me all this time, where he’s stalked my social media the way I’ve stalked his, where his silence was never from indifference but based on fear. But what good would that do?
Hope is a risk I stopped indulging in the moment Hazel’s father made it clear he didn’t want any part in her life.
“I think it’s time I start dating.” The words feel strange on my tongue.
“Yes!” Leighton’s brown eyes brighten. “Decker.”
Her cheeky smile does something treacherous to me—makes me want to believe there could be something there, makes me want to turn around and catch him staring.
But he’s had years. Years to make a move. Years to change what we are.
And he hasn’t.
I shake my head. “Hate to burst that bubble, but Decker and I aren’t meant for each other.”
Decker heads to the hula hoop station and swaps in for a dad who looks thrilled to pass the job onto someone else. Except the dad doesn’t leave. Rather, he stays and chats with Decker, probably about the Colts.
Leighton holds up her hands. “Okay. We’ll take Decker off the table. Why now?”
My gaze tracks Hazel as she skips between stations. She’s come out of her shell this year, but she still clings to Monroe, still lets Monroe talk for her more than she should.
“For Hazel. For myself. I’m ready to have a partner in my life.” My throat tightens. “I know it’ll take a while to find someone. There aren’t exactly a line of men raising their hands begging to be a dad.”
Leighton snorts. “Sure there are. Lots of guys are into hot moms.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile that tugs at my mouth. “You’re always so complimentary.”
“I’m speaking the truth.”
Hazel runs toward the hula hoop station, grabs one, and tries to swivel her hips. The hoop immediately drops to the ground, and her shoulders bend inward.
Decker steps in, gentle and easy, showing her how to start the motion. Then he does it himself, his hips moving with ridiculous confidence, the hoop spinning as though he’s a professional circus act.
Leighton makes an impressed noise. “Who would’ve thought Decker had moves like that?”
Little does she know.
“Of course, Callie did say he can dance.”
“His mom taught him.” I keep my voice casual.
I don’t add that I taught him a little too.
Another mom approaches Leighton, pulling her into a quick conversation about snacks or sign-up sheets or something equally earth-shattering in the elementary school world, and I keep my gaze trained anywhere but on Decker.
Except I stray.
I keep catching myself watching him with Hazel, and a version of my life flashes in my head like a cruel movie trailer designed to torture me. I hate myself for wanting it.
I wouldn’t have Hazel if I had Decker. The blink of a relationship that gave me her is the best thing that ever happened to me.
When Hazel was three, she asked me what the word daddy meant as though it was a brand name. Like it was something we could grab from the grocery store if we walked down the right aisle.
Should I have a daddy, Mommy?
I remember the way I smiled through the tightness in my throat.
As if the universe is trying to be funny, my dad finally arrives and gives me a wave before beelining straight for Decker. My dad shakes his hand, claps him on the back, then crouches as Hazel sprints into his arms.
Decker gives Hazel a high five, gives Hayes a quick wave, and then—finally—turns, but instead of leaving the school grounds, he walks toward me. My heart rate spikes hard and fast, my body reacting before my brain can remind me he means nothing to us.
Decker stops right in front of the painted line on the pavement, as if it’s the proverbial line in the sand he won’t cross. “Hey.” He runs a hand through his dark hair.
“Hi.” I think my attempt to keep a casual smile is failing. It feels awkward and forced.
“Your dad was running late and sent an SOS text to a few of us.” His thumb jerks toward the street. “I was the closest.”
“You didn’t have to come.”
He shrugs, but there’s a hesitation—one beat too long, as if he wants to say something else.
This is what it’s like between us now. We’re strangers who happen to share a history instead of two people who used to be able to read each other from across a room.
What happened to him being my person?
To him looking at me?
“I gotta get back.” His gaze flicks past me, toward the field. “Workout.”
“Yeah. Of course.” My voice comes out even and polite. Thank goodness. “Thanks for coming.”
He gives me a short chuckle and glances toward my dad. “I’d prefer not to get benched.”
My chest tightens painfully. There’s the reason he’s here.
He’s here for my dad.
Not for Hazel.
And definitely not for me.
“I’ll see you.” Decker is already stepping away, lifting his hand in a small wave.
“Bye.”
Leighton returns to my side with an apologetic look. “Sorry. Lincoln’s friend’s mom, Jade, cornered me.”
I nod, but my stomach has already turned into a rotten knot I can’t swallow past.
A future with Decker Davis is not on the table.
“Penelope.” Leighton waves her hand in front of my face. “What did I miss?”
“It’s time for me to start dating,” I blurt. “Right? Like… I need to do it for me and for Hazel.”
Leighton rocks back a little, then her expression softens. “I’m always going to vote for what’s good for you. It just… can be hard to execute.”
“So, what?” I yank my phone out of my bag. “Do I download a dating app? Is that the best option these days?”
Her eyebrows crinkle. “I’m not sure. It’s been a few years since I was on them.” She confiscates my phone. “But how about you let me fix you up? There’s a doctor at the hospital. He’s sweet, funny… real.”
“The dating apps feel safer.” I don’t totally believe it, but it does mean fewer expectations from the people around me.
Leighton snorts. “Have you ever been on one?”
“No.”
She clutches my phone. “Then let’s do this the old-fashioned way first. If there’s no connection, we’ll move to the apps.”
I inhale a cleansing breath, summoning my courage. “Okay.” She hands me back my phone, and I slide it into my bag, trying to ignore my tightening chest. “I just think it’s time to move on.”
Leighton’s gaze flicks past my shoulder.
I don’t look. I’m sure Decker is long gone.
I just wish she didn’t have that look on her face—the one that says she’s already mourning the happily-ever-after she crafted in her head between Decker and me.
“I work tomorrow.” Her voice drops lower. “I’ll ask him if he’s seeing anyone.”
“Perfect.” I force a smile, even as my insides twist.
Decker Davis is never going to make a move.
So it’s time I put Hazel and our future first.