And last, there was the fact that Mickey had said straight out that men needed to fuck and I was right across the street. I didn’t say it outright but it was implied I was a relatively sure thing. I liked the idea that he wanted to take his time with me but I was right across the street.

A man had needs.

A woman had needs.

But he was not seeing to these needs for either of us.

So what was that all about?

The only good thing that came of the last two weeks (and it was a very good thing) was the fact that things were progressing with my own kids. Pippa had started high school, and I was anxious to know how she was handling that. But both of them were back to school, and I was just interested to know how things were going.

So I asked.

And they answered.

Their phones.

As in, not through texts.

I could not say the conversations lasted for hours and included them baring their souls to me, telling me they forgive me and explaining they wished to spend more time with me.

But I called, they answered, we chatted, it was amicable and relatively informative and the more it happened, the less stilted it became.

I did not push this. I texted every day just to say something to let them know they were on my mind.

They texted back.

But I’d called them both more than a couple of times since Mickey and my first date, and they always answered.

Except once, when I got Auden’s voicemail.

But then he’d called me back, getting mine, apologizing for not picking up and sharing things were going okay.

I was ecstatic, completely beside myself with joy.

About that.

But things with Mickey—being fast, heated, crazy and ending with me floating on air, only for them to stall almost completely—made me again feel leaden, carrying the weight of worry that something so exciting, so promising would end so soon after it began.

I couldn’t wait to see my babies that weekend.

But things with Mickey had gone from understandable to frustrating to irritating in a way I knew I was feeling that rather than concern that what seemed to be the beginning of happy would dwindle into nothing.

“Yes, I’m in a bad mood,” I told Lawr.

“Why?” he asked. “You said things were improving with the kids.”

“They are.”

“And you’ve found someone to spend time with.”

“I did. And that’s past tense.”

“Oh fuck,” Lawr muttered. “You two already broke up?”

“I’d have to see him to break up with him and, again, I’m uncertain of the laws, this time of dating, but I would assume you’d actually have to see each other regularly, and, oh, I don’t know, maybe have sex at least once for a relationship deterioration to be considered a breakup.”