Page 50 of The Marriage Mistake

Jack straightened as I walked into the kitchen. He put his hands on his hips and stared at me. “So? Is she okay?”

I nodded. “She got her period.”

He looked at me like I had two heads. “What?”

“I, um…” I frowned at him. “You know what menstruation is, right?” A spike of panic went through me at the thought of pulling out my helpful visual aid a second time. Somehow I figured Jack would have an even worse reaction than Darby had had.

“Yeah, but Darby is so young! It’s too soon!” He glared at me, then ripped his gaze away and glared at the wall.

“She’s thirteen,” I said. “I’m pretty sure that’s a really normal age to get your period. In fact, girls are going through puberty earlier and earlier, so thirteen is probably later than a lot of her peers…” I trailed off, sensing this was not a topic Jack was interested in.

“But—” He inhaled sharply and shook his head. Shook it again. Shoved his hand through his unruly hair.

Between Darby and Jack, there was way too much emotion for me to handle. I just jerked my thumb over my shoulder and said, “I’m going to run to the store to get some stuff for her, and I’ll be back. She’s taking a bath, and she’ll come out when she’s ready.”

Yes, I was running away. Just like I’d run away after the first night of homework with Darby, when Jack had gone soft and complimented me. Or how I ran up to my attic bedroom every night instead of staying and hanging out in the living room like I wanted to.

Running away was the only coping mechanism I had. When emotions were high—in other people or in myself—I needed space.

Jack scowled at me. “The store? What stuff? I’ll go. You don’t—she’s my daughter. I should get the stuff. What does she need? Give me a list.”

Oh my word. He was adorable. And frantic. It was so unlike the suave, self-assured man I’d come to know, and it had the unfortunate effect of turning my heart to goo. That was bad, but I didn’t have the mental capacity to be worried about it at that moment. “Jack,” I said softly. “It’s okay. I think she needs you to be here and just…love her and accept her when she comes out.”

“Why wouldn’t I love her and accept her?” he demanded. “What the fuck does that mean?” He frowned at me, his hair a mess, his clothes all disheveled, and another part of my heart softened toward him. Before I could stop myself, I moved closer and tugged at his collar to straighten it. “I’m just saying, it really hurts when you go through these big transitions and your father looks at you like you’ve changed. Like you’re…dirty.” The word came out as a whisper, and Jack frowned at me. His gaze flicked between my eyes, and I knew I’d said too much.

I gulped, pulling away from him. “I’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Ember—” He caught my arm as I tried to run away. His palm was rough against my wrist—the same wrist he’d touched so intimately at the restaurant. It was only an hour ago, but it felt like a different lifetime. He inhaled sharply and finally whispered, “Thank you.”

Throat tight, all I could do was nod. Then, finally, I escaped into the cool autumn night.

When I got back, I slid some pads into the bathroom along with some period underwear, talked Darby through both options, and waited for her to tell me everything was good. Then I went to the kitchen and started preparing bowls of chocolate ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and lots of chocolate sauce. I made one for Jack as well because I was nice, even though he would never have to suffer through the trials of being a menstruating person.

Darby came down a few minutes later wearing her jammies, and the three of us went to the living room. I took the armchair, and Jack and Darby took either end of the couch. Jack glanced at his daughter as he ate his ice cream, but thankfully didn’t say anything.

I settled into my chair, wondering if I should leave. But neither of them seemed to think it was weird that I was here, so I sank into the cushions and told myself I’d eat my ice cream and leave them in peace.

“We started a new book in English class,” Darby said while her dad navigated the TV. “It’s called The Giver.”

“Oh, I loved that book,” I replied as I scooped some ice cream onto my spoon.

“It’s kind of creepy.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, laughing. “But it’s good.”

Darby nodded, her eyes flicking to her father.

“Maybe I can read it when you’re done,” Jack suggested, and Darby smiled at him. His answering smile was slight, but I could see the tension draining out of his shoulders. Darby went to get her book, and Jack flipped through the pages. I cleared the empty ice cream bowls, then couldn’t resist sitting down again, especially when Jack tossed me an extra throw blanket and said, “It gets cold in here in the evenings.”

Like I was allowed to stay. Like he wanted me to stay. When the movie was over, I left them in the living room and went upstairs to get ready for bed. As I brushed my teeth, I realized I was calmer than I’d been in a long time. I felt…happy? Fulfilled? Like I’d done something good?

Like I was part of a family.

My toothbrush stopped mid-motion, and I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Logic told me I should be worried. I was getting too close. Too involved. It would end badly.

I dropped my eyes and kept brushing.

A while later, there was a knock on my bedroom door.