I wipe a stray tear from the corner of my eye, just as the front door behind me opens, and it’s like the final piece clicks into place.
“You came.” I wrap my arms around myself, not sure what to do with them.
Jack leans in, and a hand comes to my arm as he bends down to press a kiss to my cheek. The gesture is small and quick yet natural. Like he didn’t think about it—he just did it.
His lips are warm against my cheek, his facial hair tickling my skin as he lightly squeezes my arm with his calloused hand. “I wouldn’t miss it,” he says just before he stands back up to his full height, dropping his arm to his side. He’s wearing a backwards black baseball hat, dressed in a dark green T-shirt and the same black shorts he wore last week. It takes everything in me to school my features, including keeping my mouth closed to avoid drooling at his thigh tattoos and backwards hat. “And I have this for Evee girl.” He holds up a leopard print bag with white tissue paper.
I open my mouth to say how he didn’t have to bring a gift, that coming was enough—it’s more than instinct at this point; it’s second nature.
But I fight it, the words, “Thank you,” coming out instead, and Jack gives me a nod of approval, like he knew what I was about to say and thought otherwise. I reach to take the gift from him, but he doesn’t let me. Taking the hint, I walk him over to the gift table, his hand on my back as we weave through the pods of people talking, Jack giving small waves to everyone he knows.
The gift table is next to where we set up the cupcakes, so Jack sets his gift down to say hi to Ava, Annie, and his sister.
“Thanks for coming,” Ava says, passing Evee to him without an ounce of hesitation. “Your turn for baby duty.”
Jack takes Evee, holding her against him with ease—all the practice last week paid off, and my heart squeezes as she brings her hands to his cheeks and giggles, showing off her third tooth that recently started growing in.
“Hi, Evee girl,” he coos. Jack isn’t one to use a baby voice like others tend to do, but he always takes on a higher tone when he talks to Evee. “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he says to her, and I feel my knees threaten to buckle, the urge to faint like a cartoon character with hearts over my eyes is strong, and Ava must know exactly what she’s doing to me by giving Evee to Jack.
I can tell by the look she gives to Emerson before they both turn to look at me, knowing smirks on both of their faces.
CHAPTER 23
JACK
If you would have toldme five years ago that I would be spending one of my Saturdays off at a one-year-old’s birthday party, I would’ve laughed in your face.
With the way my shifts work, my days off don’t always fall on the weekends, and I used to cherish the ones that did, taking advantage of them.
Today, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than watching Evee stare wide-eyed at the cake in front of her, as a room full of thirty adults and a dozen children gather, ready to sing her “Happy Birthday”.
The party is bigger than I thought it would be—especially when Rumi had initially told me she was just celebrating Evee’s birthday with Ava. When she invited me tothe party that Ava took over, as she explained it to me last Friday, I assumed it would only be a few people aside from me.
But, even with the room full of people, I only see them.
Rumi’s green and white plaid top and short set matches the one Evee is wearing, and it takes everything in me not to grab the two of them and take them home with me, wanting to keep them all to myself.
The more sane, less caveman, part of me is so happy that Rumi has this many people here to celebrate Evee.
I’ve gotten to the point where a week without Rumi is too long. I’ve been counting down the days until I got to see her again since I watched her car pull out of my driveway last Friday.
I’ve been tempted to call her, but I talked myself out of it each time—not wanting to rush whatever is happening between us while simultaneously trying to convince myself that it isn’t a bad idea and that it isn’t all in my head.
Spending time with Rumi and Evee is everything I didn’t know I needed. It’s like seeing in color after months of grayscale; like a breath of air after being stuck underwater.
And the way she looks at me—those times I’ve caught her staring from across the room as she’s made her rounds to her guests, the way I watch her breath hitch when I catch her, the way her cheeks blush when I give her a wink—nothing that looks like her could be a bad idea.
It’s almost made the eight days I’ve gone without seeing her worth it.
Almost.
“Wait!” Ava calls out, her phone already in her hand to take pictures of Rumi and Evee. “Where are the matches for the candles?” She looks from Rumi to Annie and Luke where they’re standing by the counter who both shrug their shoulders.
My sister, standing next to Ava, reaches in her purse hanging over her shoulder. She pulls out a lighter she always keeps with her—an old school Zippo that used to be our grandfather’s. “Here,” Emerson says to Ava, dropping the lighter in Ava’s hand who passes it to Rumi.
“You ready, cutie pie?” Ava asks Evee, her curious blue eyes roaming all over the space, watching all the people stare at her. Everyone’s attention is on her as she tilts her head from side to side, but I watch her mom. Rumi gives Ava a small smile,tucking one of those stubborn pieces of hair that fell out from where half of her hair is tied back with a satin green bow that matches the set her and Evee are wearing. Her dark waves fall over her exposed skin, the top she’s wearing falling off both of her shoulders, the sight making my mouth water.
I catch a glimpse of that scar on her collarbone, my heart lurching at the memory of our conversation from last week, the scars she carries with her—the ones I still have questions about.
