Page 129 of Fall Over You

He wants to try to play dirty? He forgets who he’s dealing with. I have a history of punching below the belt. It wasn’t that long ago that I was keying cars and slashing tires. Just because I no longer dabble in the substances that made that more likely to happen doesn’t mean I forgot how to fight.

“Yeah? And who took way more of the money?”

Tyler growls. My comment landed. Point for me. Kind of unfair that I’m fighting a man who’s clearly been drinking, but he took a cheap shot. I can take one right back. I deliver my main message.

“Have your little boys’ night. Drink your stupid drinks and talk shit all you want. But remember whose house you are coming back to.”

“I’ll sleep at the garage,” he grumbles.

“Go ahead,” I say placidly. “I’ll make sure your daughter gets to school with perfect braids, a cute outfit, and a healthy breakfast because I love her even when her daddy’s being a stubborn asshole who doesn’t trust his angel of a wife.”

There’s a pause as that rings through his likely booze-soaked brain.

“Reba, I’m sorry⁠—”

“Goodnight, Tyler. For whatever reason, I still love you. You can kiss my ass and make it up to me tomorrow after you get over yourself.”

JAKE

I apologize in advance for the state I’m bringing your husband home in

Tyler’s at least walking, though Jake has an arm around him to hold him up. When they make it into the kitchen, Jake stops so Tyler can address me. I grab his chin and wiggle it.

“What did you do to yourself, grumpy bear?”

His eyes focus on me for a second and his lip goes pathetically wobbly. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Save it for the morning. Straight to bed for you.” I sigh and turn to Jake. “Can you help me get him upstairs?”

“Of course.”

Tyler’s muttering all sorts of bizarre cusses when we put him in my bed. I could have put him in his old guest room, but I want to keep an eye on him. I’m glad Ellie’s not awake to see him like this. T-Bone leaves Ellie to check on Tyler, jumping up on my bed and sneezing in his face.

I cackle when Tyler mumbles, “Fuckin’ turkey buzzard.”

I’ve never known Tyler to be particularly bad about drinking, so I’m not worried about this becoming an ongoing thing.

Tomorrow, he’ll probably feel like shit and swear off everything, and I’ll stick around to pat his hair and tell him he’s pretty and nice and not a bad person. He’ll apologize, and he’d better fucking mean it.

But I lie awake for a while, and not just because Tyler is snoring like a chainsaw. A nasty doubt lurks in my gut, and it keeps me tossing and turning.

What if he doesn’t trust me?

“Mama!”

I sit straight up and wrestle the covers off me, noting that it’s four in the morning on my bedside clock. Tyler stirs, but I force out a rushed “I got her” and sprint down the hall.

“Mama!”

I rip open Ellie’s bedroom door and find T-Bone pacing like she’s nervous. Ellie’s strawberry blonde hair is all over the place and tears stream down her face. “What’s wrong, lil mama?”

“I had a bad dream,” she sobs. “You were hurt.”

She was calling for Mama. I was the one hurt in her dream. I fight the heat behind my eyes at the possibility.

I might be Mama to her. I’m terrified by the tide of hope that swells in me. I didn’t know I needed this. I didn’t know how badly I wanted it until it’s here and on the table.

I slide to sit on her bed next to her, kiss the side of her head, and wrap my arms around her. “I’m okay, sweet girl. It was just a dream.”