She quickly shifts the topic, distancing herself away from her raw emotions. “Nevertheless, it was for the best. His promotions only proved that he never wanted us to succeed together. He wanted me to watch him rise, not join him at the top.” Her voice hardens with the recount of betrayal.

As she delves into her past, my disdain for her ex-husband deepens with each word, fueling a protective anger inside.

“Anyway…that’s neither here nor there,” She says in a more gleeful tone. “Are you gonna tell me why you’re here, or are you just gonna keep prying into my past?”

Regaining my focus, I guide her to sit beside me on her couch, but the unexpected softness of the cushions catches me off guard and sinks in deep. “Damn, what is this made of? Air?” I blurt out, a little more discomposed than I’d like to admit.

She bursts into laughter, retorting, “Shut up, rich boy! My parents have had this couch since I was a baby. It isn’t as firm as it used to be, but it’s comfy, and that’s all that matters.”

“Comfy, huh? You like to sit on waterbeds. Noted,” I tease back. “At any rate, you were amazing with my daughters last week, and I loved what you did to their classroom.” I begin, trying to steer the conversation toward my purpose.

Kerry’s expression remains composed, unmoved by my compliment. “Well, Mr. Grimes, I am a teacher. It’s what I do.” She replies, her demeanor still.

“But you did more than teach; you were attentive. You made Ari feel like a nine-year-old girl, which isn’t easy given her disability,” I admit, my voice softening since I rarely discuss my daughters’ struggles. “It made them feel good, not to be pitied or stared at. Seeing them for who they are came naturally to you. They appreciated that. I appreciated that.”

A warm smile spreads across her face. “Well, you’ve done a great job raising them. They’re pretty amazing. Ari is so thoughtful and sweet. And Syd? She’s a firecracker. They have so much personality. Surely, they didn’t get that from you.” She teases, looking up at me with a challenging smile.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” I playfully scoff. “For your information, I was voted ‘most wittiest’ in high school.”

“Were you voted the biggest liar, too? ‘Cause there’s no way you made anyone laugh, Mr. Grey Beard.”

She laughs, and I can’t help but join in.