I can’t go on like this much longer. If it weren’t for having Travis around, to calm me with his thoughtful gestures and distract me with the incredible orgasms, I would’ve already lost it completely.

Though I won’t say May’s grandparents have been entirely awful. Sometimes my brain tries to convince me they’re being that way, but actually, for the most part, they’ve been kind of great. Much less uptight than I expected. They’re clearly happy to be here, spending time with May. And me too, I guess, by proximity. But that’s also what makes it hard.

Because this thing—the four of us, and even Travis—is almost starting to feel like a real family. But it’s not real. It can’t last. There has to be an end date, right? They have to go home sometime.

And then Travis will stop pretending to be with me, and May and I will be all on our own again.

I look at my daughter, watch her ripping apart pieces of a buffalo chicken tender, and I smile despite the painful thoughts going through my head. It’s been just me and her since she was two. She’s always been more than enough for me. But it’s not fair to assume I’m enough for her.

Maybe Elise was on to something when she said she wished May had two parents. I’d be blind not to notice how easily May’s bonded with Travis, how she enjoys having him around as much as I do.

Travis.

What are we doing?

He’s at a table nearby, using a pitcher to refill someone’s water. As if he can sense my stare, he glances over mid-pour, and we exchange brief smiles. But then he cuts his eyes back to his task just in time to not overflow the glass.

We’ve fucked twice now. I know what he tastes like, know what noises he makes when he comes. I know the intimate way he watches me as we move together.

And I just don’t know how I’m ever supposed to give that up. I don’t want to go back to the way things were between us, where all I know are his grunts and occasional smiles and his skill at changing a flat tire.

It’s dangerous to hope, but I can’t help it. I’m hoping that there’s some way I can keep him.

“I need to ask you something,” May says, disrupting my thoughts. “And I think it’s going to upset you, but please just listen.”

“I’ll always listen to you,” I assure her, a bit hurt that she’d ever think I wouldn’t.