Chapter 2

Like she was staring at a madman.

"Cody, are you all right?" Jasmine asked.

She was the one I'd thrown the herbs at, yet I was the one who felt like crying.

"Where's our son's present?" I asked.

A flash of irritation crossed her face. She turned, shrugging off her coat, and headed for the bedroom.

"What's the rush? I'll buy it."

I'd heard some version of that sentence a thousand times over the past few years. Wait a little longer. What's the hurry? Don't push me.

But I was done waiting. I pushed open our son's bedroom door, pulled back his blanket, and looked into his tear-filled eyes.

"If Mom and Dad got divorced, who would you want to live with?"

He froze. Divorce wasn't a word he understood yet. But it didn't take him long to catch the meaning, and fear crept into his voice without him meaning to let it show.

"Dad, please don't leave me."

Silly boy. As if I'd ever leave him.

I pulled his small body into my arms. "If you went with your mom," I said, the words scraping my throat, "maybe things would be better for you."

His eyes drifted to the photo of the toy. His voice came out barely above a whisper.

"Can we wait just a little longer? One more week."

I understood. He was still holding out hope that his mother would keep a promise, just once. So I told him yes.

The next morning, after I dropped him off at school, I went to work like always. I was a part-timer at a diner, the food was good, but the pay was terrible.

I used to be a top student, actually. My very first job out of college had come with a solid salary. But after Jasmine had our son, she didn't want anything to do with raising him, so I'd voluntarily stepped away from my career for four years to raise him myself. By the time I tried to go back, the world had moved on faster than I'd ever imagined. On top of that, I was an orphan with no family to fall back on, which was how we'd ended up living the way we did.

"Cody, table six needs you."

The memory let go of me, and I answered and walked over. The next second, I found myself staring straight at Jasmine, seated at that very table.

Her expression soured for a fraction of a second, because sitting beside her was Josh Duncan, her childhood sweetheart, the first love she'd never gotten over.

He was handsome, refined, carrying himself with the easy confidence of a settled, mature husband. Next to him, at the same age, I looked worn down and gloomy, permanent shadows under my eyes.

But I didn't feel sad at all. If anything, I was thrilled, because sitting right there beside her was the toy our son had wanted for so long.

Josh looked over the menu and ordered a few dishes. I wrote everything down and was about to turn away when Jasmine suddenly called out to stop me.

She looked at Josh, her voice tinged with helplessness. "Didn't you say you have a cold? You can't eat anything spicy."

Josh gave a rueful little laugh.

"She's always been like this, fussing over every little thing," he said to me. It was framed as a complaint, but the warmth underneath it was unmistakable.

My grip tightened on the menu. It felt like a slap across the face.

Josh noticed something was off with my expression and asked after me with the concerned warmth of a close friend. I turned away in a panic, because I'd caught the pity in his eyes. He knew exactly who I was.

My feet went unsteady beneath me, and lost in my own head, I plowed straight into a coworker carrying a tray of food. A second later, the whole plate went flying, spilling all over me.

Before I could even react, my boss tore into me.

"Cody, if it weren't for that kid of yours, I'd have kicked you out the door a long time ago!"

Jasmine shot to her feet, brow furrowed, and started toward me. But the next second, Josh doubled over, clutching his stomach and crying out in pain. Jasmine stopped short and rushed to his side instead, helping him toward the door, her face etched with worry.

Josh leaned into her, holding her arm close, and looked past her shoulder to meet my eyes with a calm, level stare.

I lost that silent war completely.

My coworkers all knew my boss had a thing for me, and that she'd been taking it out on me because I kept turning her down, so they shot me sympathetic looks. But I couldn't bring myself to care about any of it. I finished out the rest of my shift in a daze and went home that evening still covered in someone else's dinner.