Page 68 of Anything But Lonely

Crew deflates before I can explain to him again that we’ll see her the day after tomorrow.

“Maybe Saturday?” Emerson’s voice chimes in. She’s not talking directly to me, but with the way my heart rate picks up, my body can’t tell the difference. “If you guys want,” she quickly adds.

“We can?” Crew says, his smile wide. “Daddy, can we go Saturday?”

I shake my head, feeling a pinch in my cheeks as my lips curve at the same time my stomach knots.

Because I know better than this.

I know better than to let a simple invitation feel like something more. Better than noticing the way she says you guys instead of Crew. Better than to let myself wonder if she actually wants me there.

This isn't supposed to happen.

I'm supposed to be keeping my distance. I'm supposed to be focusing on Crew, the last stretch of tour, and everything waiting for me when the music ends.

Not sitting in my car outside this burger joint, watching my son light up because Emerson invited us somewhere.

Not feeling like this small, ordinary moment is something I want to hold onto.

I should say no.

I should remember all the reasons I told myself this was a bad idea.

Instead, I look at Crew's excited face.

And I already know I'm going.

CHAPTER 25

EMERSON

I don’t know why I invited Mateo to bring Crew here Saturday.

I’m only at the station today because my brother practically dragged me here.

I was planning on spending the whole day in bed. Just like I have since the night Mateo almost ran me over in the parking lot

I didn’t mean to step out in front of his car, but I was too drained from a day of pretending I wasn’t running on empty to even look up from the pavement.

Christmas Day with everyone was exhausting, but there was a glimmer of something. Almost like a light at the end of a tunnel. Like maybe this is what it could always feel like.

I could feel a new version of happiness even with my mom gone.

I could surround myself with the people who remind me of what it felt like to be with her.

Content. Safe. Loved.

And then Mateo looked at me like he did.

Like he could see every crack I had spent months trying to cover up. Like he could see the parts of me that were just as battered and broken as I felt, no matter how hard I tried to pretend otherwise.

And it reminded me there was no point in hiding.

It brought me back to the last few weeks with my mom.

When the cancer was eating her alive.

When I was so terrified that I couldn't let myself feel it anymore.