Wednesday night when I arrive home from my evening class, Jade’s laughter echoes from behind the door and I smile to myself. Inserting the key into the lock of my childhood home, my body craves the serene comfort of my daughter and our new life.

I don’t mind going to school. I actually enjoy it more than I did eight years ago when I was only a year away from earning my degree. I could strangle myself every time I think of the bad decision I made, knowing full well at the time that that’s exactly what it was. No, it wasn’t the fact Pete and I didn’t use protection and ended up pregnant with Jade. It wasn’t marrying him quickly so that his family didn’t have the shame of an unplanned pregnancy to their name. I loved Pete and when I walked down that aisle, I truly thought he was my forever. The mistake I made was letting him convince me to leave college with one year left so I could follow him to Los Angeles.

I knew it wouldn’t be easy—raising a baby and finishing my degree—but I naively thought Pete signed up to stand beside me, not in front of me.

Pete had other plans though. Maybe it was because it’s all he knew growing up. Who knows? He had a stay-at-home mom while I had two working parents. To me having it all meant a family and a career. Pete felt differently.

He envisioned coming home to a home-cooked meal, a perfect wife who brought him a drink at the end of the day and wore lingerie to bed every night. I didn’t miss the disgust in his eyes when I swapped out my satin for flannel. But I’m not naive enough to believe that our bedroom problems were the only reason he strayed.

Pete was someone who was never fulfilled with what he had. He’s still that way.

I hate the memory of the weakness that lived inside of me while we were married. I was trying to make something of us while losing myself in the process. When I signed those divorce papers, I made a promise to myself. I’d never let a man run my life again.

“Mommy!” Jade screams when I walk through the door, getting up and running toward me dressed in her rainbow emoji pajamas.

My mom glances over from the chair, a curious look in her eyes. “How was school?”

I hug Jade tight against my body. “Good, but I’m glad to be home.”

Jade runs back to the couch to watch some game show on the television. “Grandma is so smart. She’s getting every answer right.”

My mom smiles and pats Jade’s head as she gets up from her chair and walks by her. “I saved you some dinner.”

I drop my book bag on the entryway bench and follow my mom into the kitchen.

“Thanks.” I slide into a breakfast bar chair and my head falls into my hand.

The caregiver my mom is, she sets the plate in front of me before heading over to the silverware drawer. “Drink? Wine?” She sets the cutlery beside my plate.

“Sure.” I pick up the knife and fork, cutting into the chicken. “Thanks, Mom. I’m not sure what I would do without you.”

She sets a glass down in front of me and pours the white wine she keeps in the fridge for me into my glass. “I feel the same.”

We share a look expressing how grateful we are to have each other. Two scorned women who want their independence but find refuge in one another. The hardest decision my mom ever had to make was probably asking me to move back to Chicago.

Technically, she didn’t ask. She didn’t have to. I’d never put her in the position of feeling like she had to beg me to return.

When she called me and told me that all the issues she’d been having had been diagnosed as multiple sclerosis, I was handing in my resignation to Jagger the next day. You can imagine how that conversation went until I trusted him enough to be honest about my reasons for leaving.

Jade can still see her dad. He has the money he so desperately wanted, so he can fly here whenever he wants to see her. Even when we lived in the same city, he barely made time for her. Now that we’re back, his family only lives thirty miles from us, not that they’ll go out of their way to see her.

“So.” She slides into the stool on the other side of me. “Jade was talking about a boy named Henry today.”

From her tone I know exactly where this conversation is going.

“Her friend, yes.”

“Apparently he’s some man named Reed’s little brother.” Her eyebrows shoot up.

I roll my eyes. “Not biologically.” I chew the chicken.

“What?” Her forehead creases in confusion.

“He’s part of the Big Brother/Big Sister program. Henry’s parents died when he was young, and his grandparents raise him.”

“Oh.” Her hand covers her heart. “That’s so thoughtful of him.”

I nod, continuing to devour the home cooked meal that tastes better than anything I’ve ever made.

“She told me that Reed is really nice, and he makes you laugh.” This is my mom’s M.O., dig, dig, dig, but never ask directly. I’m not nine anymore, and the fact she knows all this information says she did to Jade hours earlier what she’s doing to me now.

“Just ask, Mother.” I set my knife and fork down.

She giggles, standing up and grabbing her water from next to the sink. “Are you dating him?”

“No.”

“Do you want to?” Staying on the other side of the kitchen island she leans forward so her face is right in front of mine.

“No.”

“Have I ever told you how much I love it when your cheeks turn pink like that?”

I wad up my napkin and toss it at her. “Mom, you know I’m not ready. He’s nice, but this Reed is Reed Warner. Pete’s best man when we were married.”

Her eyes widen and she’s quiet for a moment, thinking, assessing. She holds the crumpled napkin in her hand, reaches over, and grabs me another one from the holder.

“I never understood that friendship, but I thought maybe Reed was one of those Eddie Haskell types. You know, polite to the adults and different behind closed doors.”

“When did you even talk to him?” I ask.

She scoffs. “What is the term, cougars?”

“Mom!”

She laughs, throwing the napkin back at me. “I talked to him at the rehearsal. He was a nice kid. Wish I would have swapped them out at the altar.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have noticed at all.” I spear a piece of chicken with my fork and continue eating.

“Well, it would’ve been the best thing I ever did.” She turns around to the sink.

“You don’t even know Reed.” I lift the wine glass to my lips.

She swivels around, drying her hands on the dishtowel, then flexes them a few times before setting the towel back down. “I know people and my gut doesn’t lie. I knew Pete was bad news.”

“How do you explain Dad then?”

Her lips turn down. “I was young. My gut sense hadn’t fully matured yet. Then I had a family and back then...”

She doesn’t finish, and she doesn’t have to because she stayed with my dad because she had nowhere to go.

“May he rest in peace,” I say.

“Or in hell,” she mumbles, but I catch it.

I don’t even hold it against her. My dad put her through more than Pete did me and I loathe him like the devil.

“Enough about your father. Let’s talk about Reed.” Her eyelids flutter. “Why don’t you want to go on a date? The divorce was final two years ago.”

“It’s not the time for all that, Mom. Besides, he’s a lawyer.”

She cringes.

“Second of all, he was the best man at my wedding.” I say it in a voice that implies you’d be crazy not to understand the obvious problem with that.

“It seems to me Pete kept his friends like he did his wife—not happy and not close. You haven’t seen him since what, after Jade was born?”

“Once we left Chicago, I never saw him again. I’m not sure about Pete. It’s not like I was in the know about everything he did while we were married.” My mom nods in understanding while I walk over to the sink and rinse off my plate.

Her hand runs up and down my arm. “Give it another shot. One date isn’t going to hurt anyone. Not every guy out there is a Pete.”

“Says the woman who has been alone since Dad left, what? Nine years ago?”

“It was different with me. You’re young and...” she glances to the archway into the family room. “You have Jade. Pete’s as good of a dad as he was a husband—lousy. You should’ve seen Jade’s eyes when she was talking about Reed. She said he went into the play area and chased them around?”

I giggle thinking about it. “Until the teenage manager kicked him out.”

“See.” She points to my face.

“What?” I straighten my lips.

“You might be able to control those lips, but your eyes are transparent. Always were. And there’s life coming back into them.” She pats my shoulder. “Just think about it, Dove.”

She tries to soften me by using the nickname she used to call me when I was Jade’s age. I place my plate and silverware in the dishwasher, grab my wine glass and head to the family room.

I sit down and Jade slides over on the couch to join me. I snuggle her into me as she laughs at the gameshow on TV.

Just as I’m finally relaxing, my phone dings from my coat pocket. Jade jumps up and races over to the hook where it hangs.

“No, Jade.” I’m not dealing with anything tonight.

“It might be Daddy,” she exclaims, not listening to me. She digs into my pocket, pulls out my cell phone and her lips dip down for a second.

Of course, it’s not him. There’s probably a big case or a tight, twenty-something pussy that needs his attention.

“It’s Reed,” she says, her eyes scanning the text message.

“Jade, give it to me.” I reach forward, able to pull her back by the sleeve of her jammies. She falls into my lap and I grab the phone out of her grasp. “You’re not allowed to read my texts.”

She giggles and squirms until she’s sitting next to me. Leaning over the side of the couch, she tries to whisper to my mom. “He got tickets to a movie.”

“Oh really?” my mom asks, and I don’t dignify either one of them with an annoyed look.

I laugh and glance up to see Jade and my mom staring at me.

“Are we going?” Jade asks, trying to peek over my shoulder.

“I have school work.”

My phone buzzes in my hand and I look down again.

“Please, Mom,” Jade begs next to me.

“One movie isn’t going to hurt,” my mom says while Jade looks on, pleading with her hands in a prayer pose in front of her.

He has a point but giving me a ride to work and going on a date with him are two different things.

The reminder of him being a lawyer makes my stomach clench.

He better not have anything else planned. I rest my phone on the seat cushion next to me.

“Are we going?” Jade asks.

I nod.

“YAY!” She jumps around the room.

“Time for bed. Say goodnight to Grandma,” I say, rising from the couch.

My mom looks at me over Jade’s shoulder, and her expression reminds me of when I graduated high school. The pride there pierces my heart because I know it’s undeserved. Even if I agreed to see Reed on the weekend, I can’t do what she wants me to do. I can’t open my still-withered heart to Reed.