“I guess I can see how she’d hate the game for that,” Samantha says quietly.
“Me too. Although it’s such a big part of my life that I could share it with her.”
“Can’t you?”
“Probably a little late for that. Don’t let your food get cold.” I push a plate toward her to change the subject. I’m still coming to terms with the mistakes I made and how to do better when it comes to Sawyer, and I’m not quite ready to dissect that any more tonight. Fortunately, Samantha lets it go.
“Fifteen, that puts her in high school?” She takes a bite of chicken.
I take my own bite and wait for her to continue, but instead of the typical ‘you must have had her young’ remark she surprises me with an even scarier comment. “You should talk to the students at her school. I bet they’d love to have you, and the ad
