Something Real (Whiskey Men, #2)(41)

I hand the plates and napkins to Ollie, and he goes around the room, passing them out. I follow behind him handing out party hats, which Ollie gets a big kick out of. As soon as everyone has their party gear, we go around handing out cupcakes. When everyone has one, I take pity on Ford and wave him over. “We’re going to sing to the birthday boy now!”

Ford walks away from Mrs. Jackson and stops behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders. Half the kids have already stuffed the cupcakes in their mouths, but it doesn’t matter. I pick up my camera, ready to capture it all.

Ollie is standing at the front of the classroom, and I lead the class in singing happy birthday. He’s smiling from ear to ear, looking around at everyone. He’s happy, and I’m so glad that I could be here for it. I walk around the room taking pictures of Ollie with his friends. I want to capture all of it.

I’m taking pictures of Ford and Ollie when Mrs. Jackson comes over to stand next to me. “You must be Lilian. Ollie talks about you all the time.”

“I am, Mrs. Jackson, and likewise, Ollie talks about you all the time too.” I smile at her even though Ollie's usually complaining about too much homework or how his teacher was too tired to have outdoor recess today. But she doesn’t need to know that.

She nods and pats my hand. “He’s a special little boy. I’m so glad he has you in his life. A boy needs a mother, that’s for sure.”

I shake my head. “Oh, I’m not, I mean, I’m sure he’s told you that I’m not his mother.”

She seems amused. “Well, honey, you may not be his biological mother, but you’re the very definition of the word. You love that little boy, and he loves you. That’s all that matters.”

She pats me once more before going over to break up a squabble on the other side of the room. I let her words sink in and wait for panic to hit me, but it doesn’t. I look at Ollie laughing with his friends, and his dad is watching me closely. It’s like he’s waiting for me to freak out. I give him a reassuring look. He sighs and gives me a flirty smile. I can’t help but lift the camera in my hands and take his picture.

He’s smirking with a glint in his eye the whole way over to me. How am I going to walk away from him? How can I?

Just the thought makes me sick to my stomach, and I have to look away from him. I try to focus on the kids around us instead of the decision I’m going to have to make soon.

Ford stops next to me and touches my shoulder. “You okay?”

I nod and hide myself behind the camera. I take some more pictures, but I can feel Ford’s gaze on me.

“All right, who wants to play a game?” I call out to the class because I need to put some distance between Ford and me.

The whole class hollers yeah, and I move to the front of the classroom. “Okay, does everyone know how to play Simon Says?” It’s a game I played in school when I was little. Hopefully, these kids have played it at one time or another.

A few hands go up, and I quickly explain the rules of the game. For the next thirty minutes, I lead the class in Simon Says. When Mrs. Jackson announces that it’s time for them to start math class, I take it that it’s our time to leave.

Ford and I are cleaning up the leftover cupcakes and getting ready to leave when Ollie runs up to us, giving us each a hug. He has icing on his mouth, and I’m pretty sure he snuck a second cupcake. He smears it on my shirt as he hugs me. “I love you, Lily.”

I squeeze him tightly, close my eyes, and breathe him in. “I love you too, Ollie.”

He fist-bumps his dad, tells him he loves him, and joins the rest of the class.

Ford takes some of the things out of my hands until I’m only carrying my camera. I hold it up as we’re walking out of the school. “I love my present.”

He nods. “I’m glad. I can’t wait to see the pictures. Thank you for being here today, Lily. I know it wasn’t easy for you, but I want you to know it meant the world to Ollie… and to me.”

A flash of grief hits me hard and quickly. I choke back a sob. “Uh, do you care if I take the rest of the day off?”

He shakes his head. “Of course not. Do you have plans? Because if not, I’d love for you to come over to dinner tonight.”

I wish he knew how much I’d love to be there for dinner tonight. And the night after that. But I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

He laughs, but I can tell that part of him is serious when he asks me. “Why? You have a date or something?”

I shrug as if I’m feeling defeated, and maybe I am a little bit. “What does it matter, Ford? I said this couldn’t be serious. I said that nothing could come of it. I don’t know what my future holds…”





Ford





I look at her with my heart in my throat. “And I said I wasn’t letting you go.”

She shrugs in indifference, like she doesn’t care that she’s breaking my heart right now. “You don’t get to choose, Ford. It’s my decision what happens. I told you that I didn’t want this… that there’s things I want… that I need to do. We should never—”

I cut her off. We’re standing by where she parked, and I set all the bags on the ground before I box her in against the side of her car. “We should never have what? Made love? Is that what you think?”