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She nods. “Yeah, but he could be a total dud, so back to you. How are you doing? Been a long week, huh?” she asks, and my eyes flick to the tiny bandage on her forehead, where a piece of shattered glass ricocheted off the counter and slashed her.
I tap my forehead where her bandage is. “I’m sorry again about that.”
She waves away my apology. “It was an accident. Don’t even worry.” She rests the brown spoon against the trivet, bracing her hands on the countertop as she glares at me. “How are you, Dolly?”
I slide into a barstool at the counter and check the coffee. It’s almost done. “I’m okay. After I got it out of my system,” I reply, sparing the details she’s already aware of. When I went to Hudson’s after saving Bear, I thought it wasour night. The big night. What I’ve been working toward for the past five years, more active and solidly the last two years. I came home and destroyed the living room in a hazy rage, but once I’d purged those big reactions, I helped my sisters clean up my mess and reset my mind.
“I feel better. I mean, I understand why he’s pulled away some. He thinks I have an entire side to me that he’s unaware of, and that reminds him of Tessa.” Ivy filters out with her sketchbook and favorite pencil, going straight for the coffee.
“You do have an entire side he’s unaware of,” she says through a strained yawn.
Juni fits her hands in heat-resistant gloves, using hertongs to lower a canning jar into the pot on the stove. “But she’s going to come clean all the way so, really, it’s only temporary that she has secrets.”
“Exactly,” I agree as Ivy fills her mug. I leap off the barstool and grab the door, holding it open for Ivy as I call to Juniper that we’ll be back soon.
From her comfortable spot on the front porch, cozy in her rocking chair, Ivy pulls her phone from her bathrobe pocket, just in case. “All right,” she says, steam lifting off the surface of her coffee dreamily. “Go.”
“Thanks, love you,” I call, skipping across the dirt until I’m at Hudson’s back door.
Goddamn, the house smells so good today. Coffee, aftershave, Bear’s hair detangler, fresh muffins, and clean floors. My eyes fill with excited tears knowing that one day,thiswill be where I wake up and live my dream life. This is the home I’ll enter when my arms are full of a bundled newborn baby, this is the kitchen where I will bake Bear’s 5th birthday cake and every cake thereafter.
Empowered, my veins buzzing with adrenaline and need, I make my way to the sink for my first taste of Hudson.
I stare into the empty basin for a second, saddened by the fact he loaded his mug into the dishwasher today. There are no plates or forks, either. My mouth waters, anticipating the cold sips of his coffee, but my brain is already rerouting, eyes wandering around the counters.
Collecting the stack of mail, I sift through, happy to discover no more notes from Jade.He’ll be feeding me his seed, thank you very much, Jade. The living space is quiet and still, everything in its place without even so much as a drink coaster astray. In fact, as I walk down the hall and poke myhead into Bear’s room, then the hall bathroom, and the laundry room, I realize the entire house is cleaner than usual.
He tidied up, but then again, the wedding is tomorrow, so maybe he wanted the place looking nice for friends or family to come back to afterward.
The ceremony and reception are where we have the farmers market, and there will be restrooms set up along the dirt drive so there shouldn’t be a need for anyone to go into his house.
As I enter Hudson’s bedroom, a very intrusive thought comes into my mind. Is the house picked up so he can bring his date home after the wedding?
Tiffani.
Did he reconcile with her?
In the middle of Hudson’s room, my head spins and my breathing intensifies. Heat stalks up my neck, leaving my skin damp and my thoughts frantic. I clutch my head in my hands, trying to shake free the idea thathe’s going to be with her.That he’d take her to the wedding after everything that happened, and then bring her back here and give her every perfect inch of his hot dad dick?
No. No way.
Burying my face in my knees, I wrap my arms around my legs and rock back and forth for a few minutes, trying to quiet my brain so I can at least enjoy my weekly visit. I wait all week for this, really. It’smy timeinmy house.
I can’t let this anxious fear of rejection get to me.
I have to be stronger and remember the truth:he is mine.
The chaos in my chest dies some as I repeat the truth aloud several times, finally steadying the panic attackthat overwhelmed me a moment ago. When I get to my feet, I wipe the sweat from my upper lip and head for his attached bathroom.
But the back door handle rattles.
My eyes go wide, and my hand flies to my chest, sinking against my heart to find it beating frantically. Only now, it’s not an internalized panic attack but the threat of being caught.
Frantic, I reach into my pocket and dig out my phone which immediately begins rattling in my palm. Six missed calls with one currently going—Ivy.
A text pops up.
Ivy
