Chapter 15
No excuse.
No mention of Vanessa.
No attempt to blame me.
Ethan considered that.
“That was bad.”
“Yes.”
“Do you still do bad decisions?”
Ryan almost smiled.
“Sometimes.”
Alex asked, “Did you want kids?”
Ryan’s expression changed.
“Yes.”
“All the time?”
“I wanted you before I knew you were you.”
Alex seemed to understand that.
Lily was quietest.
She eventually moved closer.
“Mom says you didn’t know.”
“I didn’t.”
“So you didn’t forget our birthdays.”
Ryan swallowed.
“No.”
“You just didn’t know they were birthdays.”
“No.”
Lily nodded as if settling a very important administrative issue.
Then she offered him half her cookie.
I saw Ryan’s eyes shine.
He ate it as though it were worth more than every restaurant he had ever entered.
After forty-five minutes, I stood.
Ryan looked at the clock.
His disappointment was immediate.
But he kept his promise.
He did not ask for more time in front of them.
Over the next three days, he saw them twice more.
Once at Central Park.
Once over breakfast.
He did not bring gifts.
I learned later he had bought several and left them in his car because his assistant told him showing up with expensive presents would be a terrible idea.
I silently decided I liked his assistant.
Ryan learned quickly that Alex hated bananas.
That Ethan would eat strawberries until someone stopped him.
That Lily did not like people cutting her pancakes because she was “not a baby.”
He learned Alex asked serious questions at inconvenient times.
He learned Ethan challenged instructions automatically.
He learned Lily held hands when she was tired.
And the children learned that their father did not know how to braid hair, had never watched their favorite animated movie, could make surprisingly good scrambled eggs, and became unusually quiet whenever one of them called me Mom.
On our last night in New York, Ryan asked to speak privately.
We met downstairs after Rebecca took the children upstairs.
He placed a document on the table.
Not black.
White.
I almost smiled.
“I’m learning,” he said.
“What is it?”
“A proposed parenting arrangement.”
I looked at him.
“You had lawyers draft this already?”
“I had them draft options.”
“Ryan.”
“I’m not filing anything.”
That mattered.
I opened it.
Travel.
School calendars.
Financial support.
Medical decisions.
Visitation.
The language made my stomach tighten.
“You live in New York.”
“You live in Chicago.”
“Yes.”
“I can travel.”