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“This is where your big brain gets you into trouble. Sometimes you just have to go for it and see what happens next.”
“You mean like you did with Bran.” Gia folded her arms on the table and lifted one eyebrow. Addison had leaped before she looked with Bran and they’d suffered a setback because of it.
“Just like that.” Addi nodded, surprising Gia with her reaction. “It worked out in the end. There’s no right way to do what you’re doing. And you don’t have to protect yourself with Jayson. He’s the safest bet you have.”
Yes, in some ways he was safe. He wouldn’t hurt her. He respected her. He’d give her the best time of her life in bed.
But he was also unsafe—because every time he was around her, she couldn’t seem to separate the man who’d broken her heart while they were married from the man who’d won it early on.
She didn’t want to dive in headfirst again only to discover they were still in the shallows. Any attempt at a long-term relationship could land them back in the same situation they were in before.
And she couldn’t stomach ending things with him again. It hurt too much the first time.
The conversation with Addison looped in Gia’s head when she returned to work, crashed into her when she climbed into her car to drive home, and arrived on a silver platter when Jayson showed up at her house twenty minutes later.
The front door opened and her heart zoomed to her toes. He walked in, a leather shoulder bag in his hand. “It’s just me” might as well have been a “Honey, I’m home.”
She was in the kitchen, the makings for a sandwich spread out on the countertop.
“No takeout tonight?” He examined the countertop: mayo jar, bakery-fresh whole wheat bread, leaf lettuce, a freshly sliced tomato, smoked turkey breast and a jar of pickles.
“You’re welcome to have one.”
“Thought you’d never ask.” He hesitated, his eyes lingering on her mouth. She licked her lips self-consciously, knowing she shouldn’t want the casual peck hello but wanting it anyway.
In the end, his mouth flinched into a tight smile and he leaned past her to pluck a pickle slice from the jar.
As homey as this scene felt, they were still separated. She’d do well to remember that.
He set his bag down on a bar chair and rubbed his hands together. “I need chips.”
“On top of the fridge,” she answered automatically. But he knew where the chips were in this house. He’d been the one to store them there to begin with. Why she’d kept them there when she had to grab a footstool to reach them was beyond her.
He was right. Some things never changed.
“Before you met me you crammed them into a cabinet and broke half the chips in the bag.” He sliced open the bag with a pair of scissors from a drawer he was also familiar with. The entire scene was eerily familiar. As if they’d time-traveled back to when they were married and this was a typical day after work.
And yet it was utterly and totally different.
What was it that Jayson had said the last time they’d slept together? I don’t want to fail with you again.
He hadn’t said, “I don’t want to fail you” nor had he said, “I don’t want to fail.” He’d said, “I don’t want to fail with you,” as if they’d both had blame in what happened between them.
She couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t justifying his position and his actions. When he wasn’t and expecting her to go along with what he’d decided should happen. He never listened, and she never felt heard.
Had he changed in the year and a half they were apart? Or was that dangerous and hopeful thinking?
They made their sandwiches side by side in silence.
“Why did we buy such a big house?” she asked as she traversed the wide layout of the kitchen to the trashcan.
“You love this house.”
“I do but it’s too much—” Especially now that it was just her.
He navigated a huge bite of his stacked turkey sandwich before speaking. “You loved it and I wanted you to have it.”
Both true. She’d stepped into this very kitchen and had done a twirl reminiscent of The Sound of Music on the marble tile. “I did love it.”
