So, after that reminder of my past regrets, I hugged my mother from behind, squeezing tight. “You’re right, Mama. Thank you for being there for me… through everything. You’re the best parents, and I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Mum squeezed me back, a silent gesture to say she had heard my words and accepted them.

It was Saturday, and Austin was bouncing around his room like an overexcited puppy, checking and rechecking his sports uniform.

Mum had signed him up for micro soccer to play in the same team as his new best friend, Cooper. It would be his first run around, and I was excited to see him try something new.

“Hurry up, Mum! Come on!” Austin screamed.

“Okay, okay,” I muttered before grabbing my sunglasses and heading downstairs.

My parents were on the couch, wide, identical grins geared towards my boy, who was bobbing impatiently by the door.

When I said goodbye, they both looked at each other with a suspicious gleam that I should have taken note of.

I stood on the outskirts of the field, watching my boy join his new team, his little face serious.

Unfortunately, my attention waned—again—as it had been for the past half hour. Owen stood proud as their coach, gentle in his teaching but firm when he had to be.

He was great with the kids, and they all seemed to love him. And they weren’t the only ones.

Soccer mums waded on the sidelines, gleaming teeth and bunched up bosoms, waiting for their moment to shine. I didn’t know why they had to get all dressed up to watch their kids run a set of drills… Which they were pretty much shit at anyway. Hello, they’re three.

Owen, on his part, kept his focus on the kids, despite a couple of soccer mums getting a bit too close.

Becky, their ringleader, took that opportunity to introduce herself to me and give the rundown of who’s who and what’s what. She didn’t know who I was yet, since she had moved to Acacia Falls one year before. But I was sure she would find out soon enough since she had successfully elevated herself to Top Bitch.

I tuned out for most of her musings until she got to the interesting part.

“Mm, look at that smile. He has a great smile, doesn’t he?” I followed her gaze to none other than Owen, his hands moving as he explained some steps to the team.

That’s not his real smile.

I blinked, contemplating the passing thought. Owen did have a great smile, proven by the amount of women swooning over it. However, that was his public one—the polite show he put on for others.