Shifting on the couch, I try to explain it better. “All I did tonight was talk some sense into Allison. Sat her down, let her relax with a glass of wine, so she’d stop yappin’, and made sure she understood that our disagreements over shit had better start and stop with the kids. That if we sign the co-op contract, she’s a silent partner when it comes to the business.” With a palm over my mouth, I mumble the rest. “I might’ve offered a bigger percentage for her to promise she wouldn’t contest custody of the kids.”
I cringe, knowing my brother might be pissed, but when we make eye contact, all I see is acceptance.
“Mila and Cody are yours, and I’ll go down fighting to make sure it stays that way. Hate that she’s getting more outta this deal, but I can’t say I blame you for trying. If those kids were mine, I’d do the same thing.”
I’m so relieved, I could cry. Instead, I squeeze his arm. “Thanks for having my back, brother.”
He ruffles my hair like I’m a kid. “Always. Now go explain this shit to Tori. Make sure she gets where you’re coming from and doesn’t think you were wining and dining your ex-wife.”
My attention returns to glasses in front of me. To the red lipstick on the stemware. To the half-empty bottle of Pinot.
Goddamn it.
I have to believe she knows me better than that.
The hard thud of my heart in my chest is all I hear as I tap on Tori’s bedroom door, but there’s no answer. With a twist of the handle, it opens, and I’m relieved, so fucking relieved, she didn’t lock me out.
“Tor?” Her petite outline curled up on the bed sends a bittersweet ache through me.
What would she and I be like without all the drama? If we were just two singles in Austin bumping into each other on a Friday evening over drinks in a bar? I’d ask her out in a second. I’d spare no expense to make her feel special.
Instead, tonight, I asked her to whisk away the kids while I dealt with my ex-wife.
How long will Tori deal with that kind of baggage? In my head, I consider all the reasons this would’ve been easier if we hadn’t gotten involved. If we’d kept things professional. Because the boss in me feels like I’m taking advantage of her by asking her to do me personal favors, like watch my kids on a Sunday night.
But the boyfriend in me? Yeah, he’s grateful as hell to be able to trust her with my children. To know when they’re in her care, I don’t have to worry like I would with a stranger. Save for my brother and Mom, there’s no one who adores Mila and Cody more.
Does she have any idea how much she means to me? How grateful I’ve been for our friendship and all the nights she’s let me wrap myself around her in bed?
I toss my t-shirt and jeans on the ground next to the bed and crawl in behind her.
Her breathing is slow and deep, and though I’m relieved we don’t have to talk about all the shit that went down tonight because I’m beat, I hate letting unresolved issues linger. I did that with Allison, allowed too many unspoken things go, and I don’t want to make that mistake again.
“Baby,” I whisper as I hug her to me.
She’s not a terribly deep sleeper, but tonight she’s out. I almost forgot she had her sister’s shower today. Tori must be worn out.
And when she got home, you made her babysit. Nice job, asshole.
Wishing I could wake her and apologize, tell her how sorry I am to put her in that position, I settle for whispering it to her and hoping we get time tomorrow to have this conversation face to face.
If tonight has clarified anything for me, it’s that I can’t do this—life, the ranch, the business—without her help.
But more than that, I don’t want to do it without her.
Tori
The ingredients seem to weigh a million pounds as I mix in the mayo for a new potato salad recipe I’m testing for Cody’s birthday party next week. My mind snags on Logan and Ethan’s argument last night, their voices animated enough to swell through my closed bedroom door as I was dozing off, drained from my sister’s shower and the Allison drama.
Was it arguing?
All I remember is Ethan saying, “It’s not what you think.”
Those words send chills down my arms.
Because cheaters say those kind of things, my heart warns.
No. No, tontita.
Ethan is not Jamie. It’s a mantra I’ve reminded myself of all summer. Just because Ethan and Allison talked over a glass of wine does not mean anything happened. Rationally, I understand this. Rationally, I don’t have a problem with the two of them needing to calm down to discuss the plan for Cody’s birthday.
But Loony Tunes Tori? The one who fails out of school when she’s too depressed to get out of bed and attend class when her boyfriend cheated on her with his wife? Yeah, she needs help stepping away from the ledge. Because she’s screaming I’m being naive.
My stomach knots at the thought that I might come out the loser again.
Maybe I should take a step back. Maybe Ethan isn’t ready for more. Maybe the kids need time to adjust to everything that happened this summer.
Basically everything Ethan told me after Allison found us that Sunday morning in the back of his truck comes rushing back to me like a dark tide after a storm.
I cannot believe I fell asleep before I could talk to him last night.
With a wipe of my elbow across my clammy forehead, I sigh and taste the mixture before reaching for the mustard.
Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve confronted Jamie about what he did last year instead of shutting him out. Sure, I slashed his tires like a fucking psycho, and that felt amazing in the moment, but it didn’t do anything to help me deal with the emotional turmoil he’d unleashed on my life. Never mind that it was stupid as hell. What if he’d called the cops? It’s not like I can afford to get in trouble again.
Between my sister not wanting me to plan her baby shower and Ethan’s cozy chat with Allison, that kernel of worry snowballs, making me question if this is the right place for me.
Maybe I should be trying to carve out my own life in Austin after all. Ethan and I could take things slow and see each other when Allison has the kids. I’ve never done slow in my life, as my driving record indicates, but if that’s what this family needs to move forward, I’m willing to take a step back.
My hands drop to my sides, mashed potatoes sliding off the wooden spoon and landing on the floor with a wet plop.
It would break my heart to leave the ranch. Already, I feel the cracks forming at the thought, like fissures of ice on the sidewalk when it freezes, making it hard to breathe. I’ve been so intimate with Ethan, opened up to him in ways I’ve never opened up to any man before, but can I really afford to go any further if I’m some kind of rebound from Allison?
I look up at the ceiling and blink away the heat building in my eyes.
Please, Ethan. Please don’t jerk me around.
When I woke up this morning, I could’ve sworn I was going to roll over and find Ethan, but the sun was up, which meant he was already in the barn, and I couldn’t figure out if I’d only dreamt him wrapping his arms around me last night or if we’d really slept in the same bed.
The kids’ voices bring me back to the present where they’re sitting at the kitchen table with a million crayons, coloring Paw Patrol images I printed off the internet. Back to apple slices and story time and dress-up—simple things that bring so much joy to my life.