Page 149 of Run to Me

Needless to say, Jensen will not be joining me at art therapy. He’s making good progress with Dr. Sims and the speech pathologist he’s been seeing. While he still has plenty of hard days, the number of good days increases. Soon enough, he’ll have more good ones than bad.

The circus disperses to the backyard, leaving me, Tatum, and Marcella to our kitchen duties. Brody drifts inside looking for more bagged ice for the drink coolers and takes her from me. She pats his cheeks until he makes funny noises, drawing laughter from her.

For a moment, his mask slips. Without his usual pretense, his smile reaches his eyes. He’s genuinely happy playing with Marcella, and I wish he would be himself all the time.

Lucy reappears—not looking like she got railed in a bathroom—and rejoins our food platter assembly line. Rock, who definitely has sex hair, trails after her with a swagger in his step.

Taking Marcella from Brody, he says, “Don’t let Jensen catch you flirting with his woman.”

I’m about to defend Brody, and point out Jensen’s not a jealous person, but he speaks for himself. “He has nothing to worry about. Maisy’s one of the few women who was never down to hop on my ride.”

Rock grunts and retreats to the backyard with his daughter. Now that his hulking mass is out of the way, I notice Ainsley standing a few feet behind Brody. She doesn’t seem shocked by his comment. Rather, her lips turn down in disapproval, and he visibly tenses when she speaks to me.

“I need to head out. Sorry I can’t stay and eat. I’m helping Charlie open the bar.”

“Do you need a ride?” I ask.

Her ponytail swings when she shakes her head. “I can walk. It’s not far.”

Sensing she’s ready to bolt, I don’t push the issue. “Okay. Thanks for stopping by. Let’s hang out soon if you get any free time.”

“I’d like that.” She gives us all a shy wave and leaves.

Brody taps a finger on his thigh, stealing glances at the front door. After a minute passes, he says, “Be right back,” and goes after her.

Tatum, Lucy, and I exchange knowing looks.

“I said it to Jake months ago, and I’ll say it again. There’s something going on there,” Tatum says, frowning.

“Definitely something,” Lucy and I say in unison.

We gather up the loaded platters and head outside, leaving our curiosity about Brody and Ainsley behind for another day.

58

JENSEN

Conversation and laughter fill the backyard after we fill our bellies with burgers and the seasoned fries Maisy made from scratch. She’s better at cooking than she previously let on, so I’ve added more running to my workout routine. I still lift weights because I enjoy it, but running keeps me in peak condition with less chance of injuring myself.

“The house looks great,” Trevor says, wiping ketchup off his Halloween sweater. It has a big fucking pumpkin on the front.

“Thanks. I have to give Maisy most of the credit.”

In one of our couples sessions with Dr. Sims, Maisy confessed she chose the paints and new decor for my house during our six-week period of no contact. She’s also the person responsible for my new colorful wardrobe. Not Tatum, as everyone led me to believe. Learning this information reinforced the truth that Maisy never considered leaving my side for a second. I’m unworthy of her devotion to me, but I’ll continue trying my hardest to earn it.

Javi chimes in, always ready to give his two cents. I now realize his two cents are worth a lot. “Give yourself plenty of credit too. None of these changes would’ve happened if you weren’t putting in the work.” He taps his temple for emphasis.

Trevor adjusts the straw hat on this head. If I had a bale of hay, I’d stick him in my front yard as a seasonal lawn ornament. “It’s true,” he says. “You’ve come a long way. Never thought I’d see the day when you’d have an inspirational quote on your bathroom wall.”

I send a scathing glare to Javi because he’s responsible for the quote. He showed up one day while Jake and I were cleaning out the attic. When I took a restroom break, I noticed the framed poster above my toilet that reads, “When life gives you crap…flush.” Maybe I’ll replace the poster with Miguel’s autographed photo.

Maisy and I continue updating the house at a pace I’m comfortable with. We removed the floral wallpaper in our bedroom and painted the walls a soft cream color, adding burgundy accents to the decor. She insisted on keeping the black sheets, and I joke that our room looks like a cozy vampire’s den. A lot of biting happens in there.

She spends most days painting and has become better at expressing her emotions. I’ve caught her crying a few times in her new art room. When I ask why she’s upset, she tells me. In detail. I’m proud of her for admitting she needed help too and throwing herself into therapy with the same drive and determination she applies to everything else in her life. She’s tough—a total badass—and no one can stop her from accomplishing her goals.

After we clean up the mess from the cookout, most of the adults hang around the fire pit while the kids watch a movie in the living room.

Tatum walks outside with Lennon in her arms and says to Jake, “We need to get this little man home.”