On the third day, Ms. Susan Haskell lets us know that my home was found lacking. An unfitting environment for the boys to thrive in. They can stay with their father until I can provide proper accommodations for them. She gives me her card and says she’ll touch base in a week. Logan whispers in my ear that we can move into Whitehorse, all will be well.
“I don’t want to be without the boys,” I say it to Gage once she’s out of the room. Chloe gloats by his side as if this were a victory she’s wanted from the beginning.
“They’ll be fine, Skyla,” she assures me. “In fact, I’ve gone to Cost Club anticipating this very thing. I’ve bought all of their favorite foods and fresh, organic fruit. Em says she’ll come over and teach me to cook a few basic meals. Wes says I can have Tobie for a few nights. It will be fun, like a sleepover. You go ahead and relax. Catch up on some sleep. You might even like the arrangement. You and Logan can have that honeymoon you never finished. Gage and I will take excellent care of our children.”
“No.” The word rips from me, violent and jagged. “They didn’t say anything about me not being able to be near my children. If the boys are spending the night at your house”—I take a deep breath—“then so am I.”
To say the last few days with Nathan in the hospital have been a living hell is putting it lightly, but as I packed my things, the boys’ things, to head to Gage’s house, my house that he’s yet to buy me out of, it feels as if I’ve slipped down into another level of psychological torture.
Welcome to hell, where I will have to witness Gage and Chloe living it up as husband and wifey, trotting off to bed in the room that I once shared with my husband, to a home that I lovingly hand selected each and every fixture, the flooring, the wall colors, how I begged, borrowed, and stole my then husband’s sanity for those pricy appliances.
It’s all Chloe’s now.
The house.
The husband.
And now you can add my boys to that list. Neither Nathan nor Barron is allowed back in the Landon house until we pass inspection. The earliest they’re able to come out is next week, which means seven full days of pure unadulterated hell. I had thought about asking Gage to have the boys stay with Emma, but Emma would never let me under her roof—not at this insane juncture of my life anyway. And Chloe—well, she’s all too eager to show off her brand new life to me. I suspect the consistent vomiting I’ve been subjected to over the last few days won’t be letting up any time soon.
Logan blows out a breath as we stare at the bright red door. It was my idea, a cute one at the time. I’ve always loved a good red door. It looked friendly and homey, but right about now it just looks angry—a harbinger of very bad things to come.
The door swings open before we can knock and Gage stands there with a limp Nathan in his arms.
“Mommy!” My baby garbles it out through tears as I scoop him into my arms.
“It’s okay, sweetie. Mommy is here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Barron runs up with a miniature fire truck in his hand and lifts it to his brother.
“Natey, look! Fire fuck!”
None of us correct him and none of us laugh. We’ve entered a brand new hell and laughter is the furthest from our minds.
Logan picks him up as we head to the living room and make our way to the couch.
Chloe shuffles in on Gage’s heels. She’s donned a light pink dress and has an honest to God frilly white apron tied around her bulging waist.
“Welcome to our home! Mi casa es su casa!” she sings.
“This ismi casa, Chloe,” I can’t help but snipe.
“Not for long.” She looks to Gage. “We’re currently speaking with a real estate attorney on how to get out of this mess.”
“Enough,” Gage thunders it out low as not to arouse the boys before taking a seat on the coffee table directly across from Logan and me. The old Gage would have done that just to be as close to us as possible. He loved us insatiably. This new version, not so much.
His lips tug downward as if he were about to lose his temper. His eyes are bloodshot, most likely from lack of sleep, his face stone-cold as if he’s never felt a happy emotion before in his life. This is the new Gage, heartless, self-absorbed, living it up in my house with my kids, with my nemesis. Everything about Gage Oliver has morphed into one giant FU to me and everything I thought we ever had.
“I’ve fed them both,” he whispers it low like a secret, as if Chloe were an intruder in our midst and he didn’t want to include her in any part of our conversation. I like my theory. Sometimes the lies we feed ourselves are the sweetest. “Nathan only had a few bites, but I’m keeping his fluids up and that’s what the nurse said would be the most important.”
“Good.” I press a soft kiss to the back of Nathan’s head. “I’ll be sleeping in the boys’ room tonight.”
Logan nods. “And the couch is fine for me.”
“Heavens no!” Chloe is quick to interfere. “I have the guest room fixed up for you. We can make a big giant sleepover out of this. I’ve pulled out card games. We can watch movies. I’m catering in Chinese tonight and I think we have a bottle of Sake somewhere in the fridge. Skyla, wait until you see how much fun it will be to have a real couple’s night with Gage and me. And now that you and Logan are officially together, what better time to take it for a test run?”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at the stupidity before me. “I’m not here on some prolonged—unavoidable double date, Chloe. This is no social visit. I’m here to comfort my children, which is something you know nothing about.”
She scoffs as she pats her blooming belly. “I may not have been a perfect mother to Tobie, but this new baby inside of me has made a changed woman of me. There will be no child on earth loved more than this one.” Nathan moans into my neck as her eyes set wide. “Except for our boys, Gage. I do love my stepsons as if they were my own.”
