“Hold on, you’re meeting him today?”

“Yes. He told me he would call, and he did. He wants me to meet him at the park.”

Mom shook her head, chewing her lip with a worried expression.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I know. He didn’t know about them, Mom.”

“So he says. How certain are you that he isn’t just playing with you? He didn’t exactly seem excited about the idea, the way you tell it.”

I shrugged as I slipped my shoes on. “It’s a lot to take in. Not just the kids, but the fact that someone in his company betrayed him.”

“Right, but when you called, you were ready to swear off him and all men altogether. He broke your heart…again.”

“No, he just fumbled into an open wound. I was emotional, but now I’ve had time to cry. Trust me, Mom. I have to do this.”

“Well—”

“Thanks for understanding.”

I left before she could reply, and I could feel her eyes follow me down the street.

I walked to the park alone, which seemed strange. I hadn’t taken a lot of walks alone since moving back home. It gave me the time I needed to build some neutral ground in my expectations. No matter what happened today, I was prepared to accept it. At least we were communicating now. I considered that to be progress, at the very least.

I passed the kids on the playground and stopped to watch for a moment. The usual gaggle of moms and babysitters were there, but it was the fathers who caught my attention. Gentle or playful, they ran around with the kids or pushed them on the swings, making them laugh.

The looks exchanged between the dads and their kids tugged at my heart. These fathers were so necessary to their children’s happiness, and they were so fully engaged with them. I could only hope that, one day, my twins would have that sort of relationship; if not with Miles, then with a stepfather who was utterly invested in them.

The thought of attempting a relationship with someone who wasn’t biologically related to them made my gut twist the way it always had. I hadn’t dated since Miles—out of fear that the babies would be rejected, or subjected to a person who simply tolerated them. I didn’t want them tolerated. I wanted them adored the way that I adored them, and I wouldn’t settle for anything less.

I saw his flashy sports car pull up, and I hurried to the picnic tables where we had agreed to meet. We reached them at the same moment, and my heart sank just a little when I looked at him. He hadn’t seen me yet, as he had been absorbed in his phone since leaving the car. I waited patiently a few feet from him as he handled whatever business lived in his phone. Expensive suit, expensive haircut, expensive watch; he looked every bit the billionaire playboy the tabloids presented. I couldn’t see my Miles anywhere in him.

Then, he put the phone away and smiled at me, and there he was. My heart leapt at the light shining in his blue eyes, and I nearly forgot and forgave everything to throw myself into his arms.

A child crying for their daddy on the playground halted my impulsive emotion, and I withdrew into myself ever so slightly.

“Hi, Shelley. You look great.” He moved as if to hug me, then stuck out a hand.

I shook it and smiled politely at him. “Thanks. You do, too. That’s a great suit.”

“Is it? I don’t really notice. I kind of just wear what my tailor recommends, and hope for the best.” His playful grin sent warm shivers over my body, and we moved to the tables.

He sat on the tabletop with his feet on the bench, facing away from the playground. He seemed more like himself in that position, and I found myself relaxing slightly. Sitting beside him, I let the comfortable memory of our friendship wash over me. For all of his new expensive attire, his energy still felt the same. Maybe a little nervous and subdued, but one hundred percent Miles.

“Were you able to handle that business emergency last night?” I asked him.

“Yes. It’s all taken care of.” His tone was darker than I had anticipated, and it startled me.

“Oh. I hope everything’s okay?”

“I hope so, too.”

Awkward silence fell between us, and I began to play with my fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally.

“About what?”

He had plenty to be sorry for, but I wasn’t going to accept a general apology. I needed to know what he felt, and about which part of the whole mess.

He sighed and pushed a hand through his blond hair.

“I’m sorry I never called you back after breaking that second date. If I had…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “If I had kept in contact with you after that night, this never would have happened.”

“True.”

“I know I’m too late for a lot of things. They’re two now, right?”

“Yes, just barely.”

“So they’ve already started walking and talking and everything.”

“Well, not everything. Vincent’s not as big a talker as Frida is, and Frida’s not as good a walker as Vincent is.”

“Vincent and Frida. Great names. Artists, right?”

“The best,” I said with a smile. “Van Gogh’s style always inspired me—his freedom and passion and complexity. Kahlo’s power and drive always made me feel like I could be more than I am, if I only accepted every part of myself. I’m still working on all of that, but maybe my Frida won’t have such a hard time of it if she channels her namesake.”

I could tell that I was babbling, but it seemed important for some reason that he understood the history of the kids’ names, as if knowing that would give him a leg up on knowing them.

“The names are great,” he said with a soft, almost sad smile. “Wish I had been there to help you work that out.”

“Me, too.”

The weight of the last two years settled in the air between us, creating a barrier. Miles felt it too, it seemed. He moved his shoulders restlessly, then dropped his head to stare at the scratched metal between his feet.

“I want to be there for you and them. Not just with money. The money will keep coming, by the way. I mean. I’ve rooted out the rat and booted him, but paying you support seems to be the least I can do. I just don’t want to do the least that I can do anymore, if that makes sense. I want to be everything you and they need me to be.”

His words touched me, and I nudged his shoulder with mine.

“I appreciate that you want that,” I said. “But…” I searched for the words to finish my thought, gazing off across the rolling grass.

“But?” I could hear the anxiety in his voice, and it nearly made me wince.

“But you don’t have the best track record. There’s always going to be something more exciting, interesting, and professionally pressing than our little family. I’m afraid that the day-to-day routine won’t be enough to keep you from running off again.”

I could feel his retort rise in him, then die on his lips. A pained sound behind his sigh nearly made me retract what I’d said. All I wanted, really, was to forgive and forget, to welcome him back with open arms, to take him home to meet his children. But I couldn’t trust him, not yet. His pain at that fact was no fault of mine, and I had to channel my mother to steel myself against the distress radiating off of him.

“I guess that’s fair,” he said finally. “You’ve grown in the last couple of years, Shelley. You’re strong and confident. I always thought you had that in you; it’s pretty cool to see it.”

He smiled at me, but it was a distant smile; a customer service sort of smile. It struck me in my gut, and for a moment, I wondered why I had even come. We weren’t anywhere near as close as we used to be, and we hadn’t been exceptionally close then. Just friends. A friendship which had ended as soon as something more exciting crossed his path, I reminded myself.

“I’ve sort of had to develop a spine over the last couple years,” I told him coolly. “Even with my mom’s help, being a single mother to a pair of headstrong twins comes with all kinds of challenges. I’ve had to figure out how to be the mom they need, even when I feel like a lost little girl myself.”

“Do you feel that way often?” he asked softly.

Daily. Constantly. At that very moment. But he didn’t need to know that.

I made a noncommittal noise and shrugged.

Silence fell again. He started to say something, then changed his mind. I almost told him an anecdote about the twins from earlier that morning, but decided against it. Who knew if he was really interested? And he might not find it as charming as I did, and maybe the mundane nature of my life would send him running before he had even met his kids. Back and forth, comments swirled unspoken into the lengthening awkward quiet.

“There’s too much pressure,” he said finally, shaking his head.

My heart sank, but I steeled myself. I had known that this might happen. I retreated into that neutral space in my mind, blocking my emotions from my reaction. Miles pushed himself off of the picnic table and paced the concrete in front of me, rubbing his chin in thought.

“Tell you what,” he said finally, turning to me. “Why don’t you come to my place in San Bravado tonight? Just you and me. We can relax and get caught up, you know…get to know each other again.”

One of my eyebrows raised of its own accord, and he held out his hands.

“Doesn’t have to be romantic,” he assured me, seeing my expression. “Just two old friends getting reacquainted. I can see how protective you are of the twins, and honestly, I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. They’re lucky to have a mother who is so invested in their lives and emotional health and everything. I can completely understand your hesitation, really. But we have to start somewhere, don’t we?”

The earnest plea on his face touched my heart, but there was another problem.

“My mom did just watch the twins overnight,” I said reluctantly. “I don’t know if she’ll be willing to do it again so soon.”

“Oh.” He paced for a moment longer. I could tell that he wasn’t used to having to wait for an answer by the impatient twitch in his shoulders and the tightness in his jaw. Power had spoiled him. That could be a problem.

“Well…call me or text me anytime and let me know what she says. If you can’t do it tonight, we can do it some other time. I’ll make my schedule work around yours. All I want is to move forward. You are completely in control over how and when and even if we do that, but…I really hope you say we can.”

I couldn’t let him suffer any longer. I smiled at him gently and slid off of the table, stepping toward him. His breath caught in his throat as I looked up at him, and his eyes strayed to my lips.

“I’ll go home and talk to her right now,” I told him. “I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

A sunny smile broke through the turmoil on his face, and he took my hand in something slightly softer than a handshake.

“I can’t wait to hear from you.”

His smile and his voice stayed with me the entire time I was walking home. He was still in there, under the silk and cologne—my Miles, my friend and lover from so long ago.

Somehow, it felt like less time had passed. My heart beat with the need to see him again, and I desperately hoped that Mom would agree to watch the twins for me again while I started this path to working things out.