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Her hand rested on the window. “Every other week?”
“For now, maybe that’s the best. I’d like to think we’re adult enough to figure things out as they come.”
She bit her lip, and I knew she was holding something back. It was going too simply. I could feel it. A bomb was about to be dropped.
“In preparation for this, Nick bought us a small craftsman just down the road from you.” She let out a deep breath.
I stared at Brielle. “In Madison?”
She shook her head.
“You hate Buttercup Lake. You despise that they don’t have a Starbucks.”
“But I love my son more.”
She grinned as I tried to formulate exactly what she was telling me.
“Why not a place in Madison?”
“Nick said that a house in Buttercup Lake would be a better investment.” She shrugged. “And you always found any excuse to head up there, so I figure you’ll move back one day.”
I was starting to sweat, and I didn’t know if it was because Tate was so warm in my arms or because my ex was about to move a few doors down from me.
“I have been spending more time in Buttercup Lake.” I nodded slowly, trying to formulate what my life was about to look like.
I looked down at Tate and around the hotel suite. My life had become…
Surreal.
That was the only term I could think of that aptly described the state of my world.
This morning, I’d been daydreaming about how to convince Daisy to become my girlfriend, and now I sat here with my ex, holding a treasure I couldn’t even fully comprehend yet.
Whenever I looked at Brielle, there was an air of awkwardness between us, a mutual understanding that we were through.
We were done.
But now, we were forever connected.
Nothing would change that, and we needed to fully come around to the idea.
Holding Tate in my arms made it abundantly clear that nothing mattered between Brielle and me any longer.
“So, where did we go wrong?” Brielle teased.
“I think the list would be shorter if we started at when were they right?”
She snorted and shook her head. “Remember when we went on that camping trip with your brother?”
“Oh, the stories I’ll be able to tell Tate about his 6-inch-heel-wearing mother in the backcountry of Wisconsin.”
“You wouldn’t.” She narrowed her eyes on me.
“I don’t know. Your falling into the shrubs was pretty…”
Brielle laughed, shaking her head. “It’s too bad our time together wasn’t spent like this.”
I shook my head. “No, things worked out how they were supposed to.”
