“Come on, buddy, we gotta get going to school,” I tell Jack, doing my best to pretend that nothing is bothering me. That I’m okay with everything, even though inside my chest is a huge gaping hole as I’m trying to learn how to be without Faye. Even though what we had wasn’t long, it was still the best.

“Can I take Braxley’s walkie-talkie to school today and give it to him?”

“I don’t think Mrs. Leeper would like that.”

“Come on, I miss him, Daddy.”

“I know you do, bud, but you’ll get to see him all day today.”

“It’s not the same,” he grumbles and hops off the stool at the breakfast bar, walking into the garage, upset. I hate that what Faye and I are going through is affecting him. Grabbing his backpack, I take the walkie-talkie with me, I’ve gotta do something. I can’t have him upset, like this.

As I follow Jack, he’s already strapped up in the car and even at six years old, I can tell he’s pissed at me.

I show him the walkie-talkie, and he grins from ear to ear. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Of course. I’m not gonna let you take it into school, though,” I tell him as I back out of my driveway. “I’ll take it to Faye, and if she’s okay with him having it, then you guys can talk.”

“Why wouldn’t she be?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I just want to make sure. She’s his mom.”

He looks out his window on the drive, and I keep glancing at him through the rearview mirror. If only I could be six again.

After we make the short trip to his school, I pull into the lot and even after a week, I still find myself looking for Faye. She must be dropping Braxley off really early because I haven’t seen her.

“All right, buddy, we’re here,” I tell Jack and he unstraps, then gets out, and I help him with his backpack.

As we walk across the lot, he asks me, “Are you going to take the walkie-talkie over to Braxley’s now?”

“Sure will. Have a good day, okay?” I give him a hug and kiss. Then his little feet guide him along, and I watch him run into school all the way until he’s gone.

Taking out my phone on the walk back to my car, I’m tempted to call or text Faye, but I know she’ll just ignore me.

So I get into my car and just drive to her house. I hate that she won’t answer or return my calls. She’s gone completely silent, and it’s driving me nuts.

Out of all the people in the world, I’d think that Faye would turn to me. I understand her and want to help her. But she’s just pushing me away and running from something that’s so good.

I know I haven’t been through exactly what she has, but I care for her so much that I’ll do anything to help her and to make her happy.

Pulling up to her house, everything is quiet. She’s probably not even here, but I still have to try. With the radio in my hand, I walk up to her front door and take in a deep breath of air before I knock. Each smack of my knuckles against the wood sends a twinge of anxiety coursing through me.

Nervously, I look around, listening for any noises inside. But I don’t hear a thing. She must not be home. Letting out the breath, I turn my back and go to my car.

I shouldn’t have come here.

Tossing the radio aside, it stares at me, and I hate to let Jack down. Searching around my car for a pen and paper, I finally find them to write her a note. As I tap the pen on the paper, I’m not sure what else to write, even though I have so much to say, and then suddenly, it flows out.

I don’t hold back, saying everything I feel I need to. I’ve got nothing more to lose after all.

Folding the piece of paper in half. I stick it beneath the clip on the radio and walk it up to Faye’s front door, placing it inside her mailbox. I hope it helps, but I fear it won’t, and that makes my heart hurt.

Starting the engine to my car, I drive off wishing that she’d been home. I really believe if she’d just hear me out, that she’d understand where I’m coming from and let me back in.

My phone rings on the drive, and I glance at it to see my attorney calling. Reluctantly I answer it, and he says to me, “If you’re gonna start blowing off court dates, then there is no way the judge is going to give you full custody or let you keep primary custody.”

Sonofabitch! Is it the eighth already?

“I…I’m not feeling well.”

“Don’t try to play me, Thane. I’m on your side here. I just covered for your ass. If anyone asks you had to take an emergency flight to New York, okay?”

“Absolutely. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I spaced it.”

“Me neither and I really wish you hadn’t.”

“Why?” I ask him, concerned that he’d say that.

“Because Charlene was more than prepared and came out guns blazin’. You know she’s hired a financial advisor?”

“How can she do that, with my money?” I yell at him.

“It’s within her monthly budget. Apparently she’s really not shopping.”

“Dammit.”

“Yup, she even has a sponsor for her shopping addiction that she brought to court today to vouch for her.”

Out of all days for me to miss, why today? Why when Char completely catches me off guard with a fastball right down the middle? I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve been there to do something.

“What’s this mean for me?” I ask him.

“I think she has a good shot at getting joint custody.”

“Are you serious? After a few weeks of her charade?!”

“I’m sorry, Thane, I really am. I’ll have my assistant call you when we have the next court date.”

I hang up the phone, extremely angry. I can see right through Charlene’s bullshit. She’s not gonna keep this up, I know she’ll break, she always does. And the courts will see that, I’ll make sure of it before they put my son at risk by letting her have joint custody. It’s hard enough for me to let him stay with her a night every now and again, a fifty-fifty split might actually push me over the edge.