Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 92

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Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 92

There had been evidence to sift through—Laurie’s documentation of the now-concrete job offer,
the spreadsheet she’d made that showed how much money she could start putting away for
Zoe’s college education with the higher salary, emails from her younger brother, a real estate
agent who lived in the Tucson area and could help them get settled.
“But none of these facts mean a damn thing,” Laurie had said, smoothing out the spread of
papers on the table, “unless we answer the big question: Are you willing to give up regular
access to Zoe?”
“According to you, I don’t spend enough time with her as it is,” Nick had said.
“We’re not talking about my opinion right now. We’re talking about you.” Laurie had leveled a
stare at him that made Nick feel pinned in place. “You’ve got to tell me how you feel.”
The words had hesitated on Nick’s tongue. “I feel like I should be fighting this as hard as I can.
That’s what everyone expects, right?”
“I don’t care about other people’s expectations,” Laurie had said. “Don’t tell me what you
should do. Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
And Nick had. He’d spilled out everything, all his worries and emotions, while their
Southwestern Eggrolls grew cold and congealed. He’d told Laurie how every cell of his body
wanted to keep Zoe close, and how ashamed he would be if he demanded that if it meant
denying her a better life elsewhere. He’d said she was right; he did work too much, and while he
wanted to cut back on his hours, he couldn’t promise a meaningful difference in the short term.
He’d even told Laurie a little of what was going on with Eli, how close they were getting, and
how terrified Nick was of being unable to spin one more plate on top of all his responsibilities.
And the more he’d talked, the more it became clear why he’d been on the verge of tears ever

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since they’d put in the app order: because he knew. He knew what the answer should be, if only
he could live with it.
Laurie had cried and thanked him. Said what they were doing was for the best. Yet Nick had
never felt worse.
He was still raw from it all. Holding it together by the barest thread. The perfect time for
another potentially emotional conversation, surely.
His was the only car in the beach’s sandy parking lot that night. When his headlights dimmed
away, he was left in almost total blackness. There was half a moon tonight, at least, and only a
few clouds to obscure the starlight. He could see the vague shape of Eli’s bicycle leaning up
against the wooden post at the start of the short boardwalk.