Page 77 of Before We Break

I managed to keep my promise for all of forty-eight hours until I saw Quinn at the coffee shop this morning, and she discreetly informed me that there’s a rumor going around that Clio and I are faking the whole thing. I guess a few public outings a week and one slow dance at the festival weren’t convincing enough.

With Auggie finally settling into a routine, I can’t afford to rock the boat. The last thing we need is another visit from Charlene. She seems like a decent enough person, but I’d be thrilled to never see her again.

I let my hands linger on Clio’s hips after I finish tying the bow on the back of her apron. Ok. Fine. Maybe there’s a selfish part of me that wanted an excuse to touch her again. Sue me.

She tilts her head to look at me over her shoulder, mesmerizing me with long lashes outlining those sage green irises as they sparkle in the sunlight. There’s something about the way she looks at me that drowns out the background noise, soothing years of turmoil with one glance while simultaneously robbing me of my ability to think clearly.

“We’re teaching the kids how to tie their shoes next week if you need a lesson,” she says, her lips tipping up at one corner.

My brow wrinkles in confusion.

“Can we get started now or?”

I clear my throat, taking a step back to shake myself out of my trance. “Right. Sorry. All good.”

Clio hands me the first T-shirt, and Lexi teaches me how to wrap them. I have to redo it twice before I get it right, and eventually, we settle into a comfortable routine until my fingers are rubbed raw from the repetitive twisting and snapping of the rubber bands. An hour later, the table is covered in two symmetrical lines of balled-up pink and blue fabric.

“Can we go play now?” Auggie whines.

I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did. The kid has a short attention span, and repetitive tasks can get boring quickly. Something tells me he’d do just about anything to spend time with Clio and Lexi, including sitting still without complaint for a full hour.

Lexi helps him out of his smock and jerks her head in the direction of the playground. “Come on. I’ll race you to the swing set.”

Halfway there, Lexi slows, letting Auggie zip past her. Whirling around, he throws his arms in the air and does a dance like a football player after a touchdown. “I win, I win, I win!”

Clio’s laughter steals my attention, but her downturned smile betrays her outward amusement. “She would’ve been an incredible big sister.”

Acting on instinct, I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her across the bench seat until her hip touches mine. She lays her head on my shoulder, her now-familiar scent drifting around us.

“Do you want more kids?” I ask, knowing damn well the answer shouldn’t mean anything to me.

“No. I think I might’ve at one time, but that ship sailed long ago. I sometimes wonder… but no. What about you? Looking forward to a bunch of little Noah’s running around someday?”

I choke on air. “No. I’m not cut out to be a dad.”

She looks up at me through thick lashes. There’s something earnest in her expression as she playfully nudges me with her shoulder. “I don’t know. You’re pretty great at the whole uncle slash guardian thing.”

My mouth tips into a smile. “Wow. Did it hurt to give me a compliment?”

She snickers. “A little, but I’ll live.”

We settle into a comfortable silence, watching Lexi push Auggie on the swings as he begs and pleads to go higher and faster. I can’t help but wish Jonah were here to see how happy his son is in spite of everything he’s been through, but then if Jonah were here, none of this would be happening.

Clio’s phone chimes with a text, and she picks it up off the table. While she’s distracted, I slip my hand into my pocket and drop a penny on the ground nearby.

I wait.

And wait.

But she doesn’t notice it.

Rubber soles squelch in the wet grass surrounding the pavilion, growing louder with each step. Following the sound, I catch sight of Coach Jeff over Clio’s head. He raises his hand with a cup of coffee clutched in his fist, waggling three fingers in a clumsy wave.

A memory flashes from the fundraiser—Jeff’s hands on her face, him leaning in close.

Her smile.

A stab of jealousy pierces me, and all rationality I might’ve had vanishes.