Chapter forty-five
Mateo
"You didn't have to clean on my account," Jade says. She drops her messenger bag on the counter and sniffs the air. "But my nose appreciates it."
After she left yesterday, I spent the rest of the night scrubbing. I hadn't realized how bad the house had gotten in only a week. Or how badly I'd let my appearance go. I had to bribe Addie with lessons in driving the jeep so she'd get up early enough to trim my hair this morning. And Jade is the only reason she agreed. Funny how the tables have turned.
An awkward silence hangs between us, and I'm unsure how to fill it. On a surface level, we've made up, but we haven't fallen back into step yet. Both our alarms interrupted our reunion yesterday. For her, a reminder to pick Coop up from school. For me, a reminder of what I'd lost.
And now, here we are, alone in my kitchen.
"Say the word," I say.
"Elephant."
"Which elephant?" I ask.
"All of them," she says.
I let out a breath. "I'm afraid whatever I say next is going to send you right back out that door."
She nods. "Fair."
"Your turn," I say.
"I don't—"
"Need saving, I know."
"No, I mean yes, but that's not where I was going. I don't need saving, but I think…I think I might like to be taken care of sometimes."
"I'd like to be the man who does that," I say.
She swallows.
"I bought you a house."
"No, you bought us a house," she says with a small laugh.
"Does that mean you'll move in?"
Her lips twist into a grimace.
"I'm not there yet," she says. "And that's a me thing, not a you thing. It's also a Coop thing. I see us getting there in the next few months, but can we find our way back first? Take our time?" she asks, gesturing between us. "We've only been us behind closed doors, and when we open them, there's going to be some trials."
She's right, I know she is, but all I hear is yes.
"That sounds like a yes," I say, reaching for her.
"Hold on," she says. "There's another elephant."
"Is it a big one? Or a baby one? Please be a baby one."
"It's a baby one."
She reaches into her messenger bag and pulls out her sketchpad, opening it to a page near the end and turning it to face me. It's a portrait of Coop, his hair short, his smile big, but something is different.
"Did he get new glasses?" I ask. "Those are sharp."
