Sofia

After Ryan turned his back and walked away like I had just torn apart his world, I felt a little lost. It was absolutely absurd of me to feel that way, yet there it was, a hollowed-out pain in the upper left side of my chest. I tried to stop him, calling out after him, but he pretended he didn’t hear me when I knew he had. Instead, he broke into a jog as I watched him with my jaw hanging open.

I supposed I deserved that.

With my feelings jumbled up into a chaotic mess about Ryan, I’d almost forgotten about Derek. He had shown up at the park, clearly knowing where Matson and I would be, so I assumed he’d had me followed. I wouldn’t put anything past Derek or his family, but I didn’t understand what he wanted now, after all these years of silence.

“Matson!” I called out my son’s name, and he immediately stopped running and turned toward me. I waved him over. “Let’s go.”

Matson was such a good boy. He did what I asked without argument and rarely complained. Every once in a while, he would question why he couldn’t do or watch something, and when I’d tell him, “It’s not appropriate for you right now,” it usually satisfied him.

“All set?” I asked after snapping his helmet into place.

“Yep. Don’t forget your helmet, Mama.”

After fastening mine, we took off on our bikes back to our bungalow. Matson rode in front of me so I could keep an eye on him. When he was younger, he had to follow behind me because he didn’t know how to get places. I spent half the time riding in circles because I was so paranoid about not being able to see him, that all I did was look backward to make sure he was still there. He would always light up with a smile, completely clueless as to how worried I was.

“You still there, Mama?” Matson shouted into the wind, and I couldn’t help but smile. I used to ask him that too whenever he was behind me.

“Still here!” I shouted back as we turned down our street.

Matson navigated his bike onto the sidewalk and made the sharp turn into the small driveway, and we followed it to the back of the house. As I opened our one-car garage, he dropped his bike to the ground and skipped toward the back entrance.

“Uh, excuse me,” I said and he stopped, slowly turning to face me with a concerned expression. “Is that where your bike goes?”

His chin dropped to his chest. “No. Sorry.”

“Come back here and put it where it belongs, please,” I told him, and watched while he picked his bike up and walked it inside the garage, then placed it gently against the far wall. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said automatically as he waited for me.

After I closed the garage door, Matson took my hand and held it as we walked toward our back door. I loved that my eight-year-old son still held my hand, and I hated knowing that it wouldn’t last forever. Someday soon, he’d be too embarrassed to hold my hand in public, and my heart would surely break a little when that day came.

“Can I open it?” He looked up at me with big blue eyes and I handed my keys over. The key refused to go in at first, and I resisted the urge to help as Matson turned it upside down and tried again. When it slid in easily, he turned it, opening the door for us with a proud smile.

Closing the door behind us, I clicked the lock into place. “Matson, remember to lock the doors behind you, okay?”

“Why? It’s not dark out.”

How could I explain to my son that bad guys didn’t only exist in the dark? I didn’t want to scare him, but I needed him to make safe, smart choices, especially if Derek was lingering in the area.

“Just for right now. Let’s lock the doors all the time.”

“Who was that man earlier, Mama?”

“Ryan?”

“No, I met Ryan.” Matson’s face pinched with childlike concern. “The other one. The mean one who was yelling.”

“He’s no one, baby.” I wasn’t ready, couldn’t tell him that the scary man was his father. Not before I knew what it was Derek even wanted, or how long he planned on sticking around.

Matson narrowed his eyes, thinking, then gave me a nod. “I like Ryan,” he said, and my heart skipped.

“You do?”

“Yeah. But I don’t like the other man.” When I nodded but didn’t say anything, Matson asked, “Is he why we’re locking the doors all the time?”

That was a question I didn’t want to answer but couldn’t avoid. “Yes. He’s the reason why.”

Matson nodded again like everything suddenly made perfect sense, when it shouldn’t have made sense at all. “Okay.”

“Want to take a quick shower before we go to Nana’s?”

“We’re going to Nana’s?” His face lit up, and I realized I hadn’t even asked my mom if we could come over yet.

“Actually, I should ask her first, huh?” I laughed and Matson did too.

“I can ask her if you think it would make her say yes,” he said, and I chased him around the kitchen, stopping only once I caught him. “I just meant I think she likes me better,” he choked out through his laughter as I tickled his sides.

“Likes you better? We’ll see about that.”

I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my mom’s number. Thankfully, she and my dad didn’t have plans, so she said we could come by. I promised to bring dinner so she wouldn’t have to cook, and although she tried to argue with me, I eventually won.

“Chips and salsa?” Matson asked as soon as I hung up, and I smiled at my sweet boy.

“Most definitely.”

He kept staring at me. “So, what’d she say?”

“About?”

“Liking me better?” he asked with a sly grin, and I pretended I was going to chase and tickle him again. “Just kidding, Mama. She probably likes us both the same.”

“She’s not going to like you if you don’t take a shower.” I pinched my nose as if he smelled.

“I don’t smell!” he shouted before his smile fell. “Do I?”

“No, but you’ll smell nice and clean for Nana and Papa if you shower.”

“Fine,” he said with a groan.

As he stomped down the hall, I checked all the windows and doors, making sure that the blinds were closed and everything was locked. I’d always been concerned about my general safety since I lived alone and was a single mom, but I’d never truly felt unsafe until now.

Derek’s presence made me wish I’d gotten Matson a dog when he asked for one a few years ago.

• • •

I parked in my parents’ driveway before turning around and looking at Matson in the backseat. He wanted nothing more than to sit up front with me, but it wasn’t safe with the airbags. The manufacturer recommended that no one under twelve years old sit up front, and I followed their suggestion, much to Matson’s chagrin.

“Will you grab my purse and I’ll carry the food?”

“Sure,” he said, then unbuckled his seat belt and reached for my bag.

Mom opened the front door before we could ring the bell, and she hugged Matson like she hadn’t seen him in years, instead of only yesterday. My body warmed with a rush of gratitude. I was incredibly lucky to have my parents so involved in my life.

“We got your favorite, Nana,” Matson said.

“I can tell. It smells amazing.” Mom ushered us inside and quickly closed the door. “Go wake up Papa.”

Matson laughed. “Captain’s chair or bedroom?”

“Captain’s chair, of course,” she answered, and I rolled my eyes at the special names the two of them had created for certain things. “Hello, mija. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

She gave me a hug, and I nodded against her shoulder as my son ran off down the hallway.

“I need to talk to you in private, though. Not with Matson around.”

We walked through the entryway and into the living room where my dad was being woken up by his rambunctious grandson. I continued into the kitchen, placing the paper bags filled with food onto the counter.

“Who let you in?” Dad teased Matson before grabbing him and pulling him onto the chair with him. “Now we both sleep.”

“It’s not time for bed, Papa. We brought chips!”

My dad shot out of the chair like it was on fire, leaving Matson sitting in it alone. “Chips? Feed me, my boy.”

Matson grabbed his hand and dragged him into the kitchen, where Dad greeted me and placed a kiss on my cheek.

“Hi, Dad. Sorry to wake you.”

“Men should always be woken up for food. Remember that.”

I glanced at my mom with a smile. “I’ll remember.”

“And I’ll remind her,” Matson said, trying to help.

I had to stop myself from asking him whose team he was on, anyway. I figured I’d probably lose that contest, and I wanted to pretend I was my son’s favorite person on earth for as long as I could.

As we seated ourselves at the round dinner table, I reveled in being surrounded by the people I loved, thankful that I had them in my life and my son’s. I had no idea how I would have done any of it without my parents in my corner. They were my lifeline when I needed one, when I was certain I’d drown.

And here I was, about to ask them for more.

For a moment, I felt guilty for always asking, asking, asking instead of giving, but I needed them and their help. My parents needed to know that Derek apparently wasn’t going away anytime soon. I hated bringing drama to their front door, and felt responsible for it like it was somehow my fault.

Pushing aside my depressing thoughts for now, I focused on the moment happening right in front of me. So much happiness surrounded that little round table. I wanted to bask in it, soak it all up, before it came crashing down in waves of concern.

After dinner, my mom suggested that Papa and Matson go watch a movie while we cleaned up the dishes and had girl talk. It was the perfect diversion, one my father couldn’t agree to quick enough.

“Not wash dishes? I’m in. Come on, Matson, before they change their minds,” he said before hurrying away, Matson running behind him.

When they were gone, I sighed. “Derek showed up at the beach where Matson and I were today.”

“What?” The plate Mom was holding dropped into the sink with a splash, and she reached for it to wash it again. “Sorry. Did he talk to you? Did he talk to Matson?” She rinsed off the plate and handed it to me to dry.

“No. Yes. I mean . . .” I was fumbling, my emotions getting the best of me. Forcing myself to calm down, I toweled off another dish. “He didn’t talk to Matson, but he did threaten me. He told me he had every right to see his son, and he wasn’t giving up.”

Mom cursed softly in Spanish under her breath. “What does that boy want?” she asked as she scrubbed.

“I keep asking myself the same thing.”

She stopped her scrubbing and frowned. “After all this time, showing up here and demanding to be a part of Matson’s life. Why? He can’t have suddenly grown a conscience. He must want something.”

As awful as the thought sounded coming out of my mom’s mouth, I couldn’t disagree with her. “I thought the same thing.”

“That boy doesn’t do things out of the kindness of his heart. He never has. He might have had me fooled for a while back when you two were in high school, but not anymore.”

“I know, Mom. Me either.”

After handing me the last dish, she pulled the drain plug. Reaching for a towel, she dried her hands before placing them on her hips. “I’m worried, mija. Do you think he’s dangerous?”

I wanted to scoff at the suggestion of a former boyfriend wanting to hurt me or my son, but the truth was that I had no idea. I couldn’t pretend to know Derek anymore, not that I truly ever had. As uncertain as I was about his intentions, I didn’t want my mom to worry. She did enough for me every single day, and the last thing I wanted was to cause her stress, so I lied.

“I don’t think so.”

She shook her head. “He seemed a little loco when he stopped by the other day.”

I filled an empty glass with ice water before hopping onto the countertop. “He seemed angry today too. Super agitated with Ryan.”

“Ryan was there?”

I took a gulp of water. “He happened to be jogging by when Derek and I were arguing.” My mom’s face lit up, and I pretended not to notice. “He made Derek leave. I think he told him he’d kill him. It’s all a little blurry.”

“I might like this Ryan person. He’s the one who owns the bar with his brothers, right?”

I’d told my mom all about Ryan after Grant’s heart attack. “Yeah.”

“He must like you if he threatened Derek’s life.” She leveled me with an inquisitive gaze, letting me know that I wasn’t getting away without talking about this. But that was why I’d insisted on coming here in the first place. I needed her opinion.

“He’s made that pretty clear. But I think I ruined any chance I might have had.”

“What do you mean? What did you do?”

Swirling the ice inside my glass, I avoided my mom’s question for as long as I could until she cleared her throat and tapped a foot on the floor. Giving her what she wanted, I said, “He didn’t know about Matson.”

“He was mad when he found out?” she asked, jumping to the wrong conclusion, although I didn’t blame her. Most guys in the past hadn’t reacted well when they learned I had a kid.

“No. He wasn’t mad at all. He was happy, actually.”

Mom’s widening smile brightened her whole face. “He was happy. Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s just that. Well, I told him every time he asked me out that he wasn’t the kind of guy I was looking for. That he wasn’t my type. And today, when he put two and two together . . .” I paused, knowing she’d finish my thought for me.

“He was hurt?”

I nodded. “He was most definitely hurt. And angry.”

“Anger is still hurt. They come from the same place.”

“I know. But I’m not sure he’ll forgive me.”

Mom clucked her tongue. “What happened, exactly?”

I searched my mind for the memory. Considering all the adrenaline that had been pumping through me on the playground, I probably wasn’t remembering everything clearly.

“He found out about Matson. He said he was more interested in me, and then he said that I was less. And that was why I’d pushed him away all this time. Then he got really mad and took off.”

“He has every right to be upset,” my mom said, her sympathy for Ryan making me feel even worse.

I looked down at the glass in my hand and closed my eyes for a second. “I know he does. I was wrong to judge him before I even knew him.”

“So, why did you? You don’t normally do that, so I’m surprised.” She paused before adding, “And curious why you did with him.”

I’d been asking myself those same questions since I’d run into Ryan at the hospital. Why had I been so adamant on shutting him out? Why had I refused to give him a chance with me? It was deeper than all the standard reasons I usually had in those situations, that much was certain.

“I think I was scared,” I said softly.

A sympathetic smile spread across my mom’s face, but she said nothing. The silence stretched out as she waited for me to continue, but I knew that she understood. She had been with me since the day I found out I was pregnant, and every moment in between.

She knew how hard it was for me to be a single mom, and how tricky it was for me to date. It eventually seemed easier to avoid the potential heartache altogether, and up until Ryan, no guy had tried hard enough to break down the walls I’d put up to protect myself. To me, that was just further proof that each guy wasn’t the right one. I’d convinced myself that the right one would stay. That he would fight for me.

“I assumed Ryan wasn’t the right kind of guy to have in our life.”

“Because he owns a bar?” she asked, sounding surprised.

“In part, yes. Being a bartender is a certain kind of lifestyle, one that I didn’t want to be a part of. Mom, you’ve never seen the way women throw themselves at him. It’s like he’s royalty or something, and he’s so flirtatious back.”

My mom put up a hand to stop me. “Sofia, it’s not Ryan’s fault if women throw themselves at him. I’m assuming he’s a good-looking guy and he’s single. So, of course they’d try. And just because he’s flirtatious doesn’t mean he means it. It could all be part of his job. The more flirtatious he is, the better the money he makes, I’d bet.”

“But I don’t want a guy who acts like that.”

“Remember, mija, he’s single. He’s never had a reason not to.”

Crap. She had a point. A good one. I hated that sometimes.

Mom leveled a serious look on me. “I think you should head on over to that bar and apologize.”

“Now?”

“Right now. Before too much time passes and he starts thinking that maybe you were right. That maybe he wasn’t the kind of guy who would be good for you.”

“He still may not be,” I said, not entirely convinced. The truth was that I still didn’t know Ryan any better than I did yesterday. I only knew that my having a son hadn’t scared him off. Which was a huge plus.

“He may not be, but he deserves a shot. And you deserve to know the truth. At least if you rule him out, let there be a real reason for it. Not something you made up in your mind.”

My adrenaline started pumping as nerves shot through me. What if he hated me and didn’t want to talk? What if I’d ruined everything?

“Okay, but wait. Matson—”

“Will be fine. I’ll watch him. Go. You owe that man an apology, and you need to give it to him while he’ll still listen. Men are sensitive creatures, believe it or not. Sometimes underneath all that bravado and machismo is a boy who wants to be loved.”

I jumped down from the counter and searched for Matson to tell him I wouldn’t be long.

“Where are you going, Mama?”

“I need to go talk to Ryan. I won’t be late, but you’re going to stay here while I’m gone, okay?”

“Okay. Tell him I said hi, and I hope he’ll still eat with us.” Matson leaned toward me, cupping his hands around his mouth as he whispered, “But don’t tell him we got the chips and salsa without him tonight. He might be sad.”

I suppressed a giggle. “I won’t. Be good for Nana and Papa.”

My mom walked me out, rubbing a hand down my back for support. At the front door, I stopped and turned to face her.

“What do I say when I see him?”

“Start with a little honesty. And then maybe make out with him or show him your boobs.”

“Mom!”

She chuckled. “I’m joking, but just tell him the truth. And you need to be honest with yourself as well. You can’t let fear rule your life. Sooner or later, you need to let someone in. Matson deserves a good man in his life to look up to. And you deserve a man who loves and respects you.”

Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked hard to keep them from falling. I wasn’t tearing up about Ryan exactly, but my mom’s words had struck a nerve.

I hadn’t realized I’d been shoving down my own wants and needs for so long. I’d practically given up on the idea of ever being with someone, and I’d thought I was okay with that.

Apparently, I wasn’t okay with it at all.

“Wish me luck,” I called out as I walked toward my car.

Mom stood on the porch and waved. “You won’t need it.”

She was so convincing, I found myself wishing I had half the confidence she had in me right now.