The Promise (Thunder Point #5)(61)

“And did everyone treat him like he failed?” Scott asked.

“In a subtle way. Sometimes among extended family someone would say, ‘That’s Matt, the divorced one.’ Or it was implied he should have saved that commitment for someone he could partner with, which makes it his failure, doesn’t it? I wonder what they’ll say about me.”

“Listen,” he said, holding her hand across the front seat. “Commitment is great. Being sure is great, too. But sometimes we find ourselves up against things we can’t control and couldn’t have predicted. Then, letting go becomes a virtue. A tough one, though.”

“Has that happened with you?”

He gave a nod. “The one that comes to mind was when I was eleven. It’ll sound silly....”

“No, tell me,” she said.

“I played softball. There was a rule to keep things fair—everyone gets to play. I was small. I wasn’t that bad, but I was smaller than some of the ten-year-olds. I could hit a ball a mile even if I couldn’t catch much. The coach left me on the bench week after week, giving me the requisite two innings to keep things fair. The coach’s son was eleven, like me. He pitched every inning and was up to bat all the time. I wanted to quit, but my mother said no. She said I had made a commitment to the team, and they might need me at some point. She talked to the coach and said, ‘You never let Scott play, this team isn’t worth his energy or mine if he never gets a chance.’ And the coach said, ‘I’m playing him. Not a lot but the eleven-year-olds—this is their last year in this league and then they have to move on, so I’m giving them more opportunities.’ And my mom informed him that I was also eleven, and he said, ‘He is? I didn’t realize that.’ So the next week he benched me again—and I was the only kid on the bench. Nine-and ten-year-olds played while I warmed the bench. So my mom talked to him again, and the exchange was exactly the same. ‘Oh? I didn’t realize that.’ By the fourth game of identical conversation, she told the coach she was pulling me off the team and writing a letter to the head of the league. A harsh letter.” He chuckled. “You’ll meet my mother tonight, and you’ll probably have no trouble understanding the kind of letter she can write. But the moral to the story—I was getting screwed on that team. I needed to walk away. I needed some family support to do that.”

“I was raised in a pretty black-and-white world order....”

“But did they urge you to try harder with Ted and his family?” Scott asked.

“Ironically, not at all. They asked me what I was doing. They pointed out that he was not like ‘our people.’ Which of course, made me try harder to prove I knew what I was doing.”

He chuckled. “I’m not surprised. So, can we talk about you and me? When it comes to things like commitment—I appreciate it. Respect it. But I don’t want you to stay one day longer than you feel is right for you. Just because you said three months, I won’t hold you to it. I like commitment, but I like intelligent, adult choices even more. I don’t want a reluctant PA. I really don’t want a reluctant lover filled with doubts, struggling to find some happiness in the ruins.”

“Scott, you don’t have a reluctant lover. Have I done one thing to give you the impression I doubt my choices so far?”

He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Not one. Which is why I’m such a happy man. But promise, you don’t stay if it’s not working.”

“You think just because we get along so well and have such great sex, it’ll stay perfect? Forever?”

He laughed at her. “You think I didn’t ever fight with Serena?” He whistled. “We had some beauts. I even slept at the hospital a couple of nights. That really pissed her off. I was probably tired and grouchy, but...underneath it all, we knew we could work things out. Deep down, we knew at the core of things, we were good together. I never doubted that.” He glanced at her. “You doubted with Ted, yet you stayed.”

Doubted? She knew! She just had a hard time facing it.

“You don’t have to do that with me,” he said.

“One thing I feel sure about is it won’t be your kids who drive me away....”

“Oh-ho, we have our issues, Peyton. You haven’t been present for one of Will’s legendary meltdowns.”

“And then what happens? What do you do?”

“It varies, because I’m never quite sure what to do. Sometimes he gets a time-out, sometimes he gets punished, sometimes I just put him in the shower. It’s really hard to be taken seriously if you’re naked, screaming your brains out under water.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “But won’t it break your heart if I leave you?” she asked. “Even a little bit?”

“It would break my heart to pieces. But it will heal. What would kill me is you staying with me by sheer dint of will when you know you should move on. Let’s not do that to each other.”

She threw him a gentle smile. In a whisper she said, “Let’s not.”

“You’ve probably come across a few red flags with me,” he said.

“Just to save time, why don’t you lay them out for me?” she suggested.

He laughed at her. “They’re so obvious, Peyton. I’m poor for one thing—I still have some med school debt. I have a complicated family life. I have a terrible schedule. I have a difficult mother and an annoying mother-in-law. I’m an incurable idealist—I always think things will work out eventually—that can be draining. My kids are pretty cute right now, but one of them might have pot in a backpack someday. I don’t know. I’m messy—I use my car as an office. Devon will tell you, paperwork makes my eyes roll back in my head. I don’t dance... Oh, that’s right, you experienced that for yourself. I can’t cook, but I’m good at laundry.”