“Betty would berealbutt hurt if you went and replaced her like that.”
I huff a soft laugh, but the truth sits heavy beneath it.Betty’s not ours. Just like you’re not ours.
And when he finds out the truth—that Jonas is the only kid I’ll ever have—he likely won’t ever want to be. The urge to tell him lodges itself in my throat, but I swallow it down. No point in saying something that might not even matter. No point in making it real before I have to.
Whit
The half-dead front lawn crunches under my feet, and when I step into the street, the toe of my sneaker leaves an indent in the black sealer filling fractures in the asphalt. Under normal temperatures, this stuff is rock hard.
Great. It’s so hot hell is trying to open up via the cracks in my road.
My hair’s still damp from my shower, but by the time I get to my parents’ house, it’ll likely be dampened with sweat instead. Autumn can’t come soon enough, if you ask me. I’m ready to squeeze into black skinny jeans and cozy up in oversized hoodies again.
I scurry down the street and across the empty field, clutching my iced coffee to my chest and taking frantic slurps to cool myself down. Regular walks with my mom and sister were brought to an abrupt halt this week when Blair went and broke her ankle falling off a horse. Given this sudden, unbearable heat wave, I’m secretly glad she’s laid up.
When I finally reach the front door, I fling it open and throw myself into the air-conditioned space. The sheen of sweat on my skin drops in temperature, and a shiver racks my body. The air’s filled with the sharp aroma of freshly brewed coffee, which my body instinctively moves toward.
“Somebody looks thrilled to start the day,” Blair sarcastically says from the couch, eyeing me up as she adjusts the positioning of her injured leg on a stack of pillows.
I’m sure I look a wreck with my frizzy hair and sweaty, flushed face.
“And you look a little too happy for somebody who broke her ankle a few days ago.” I walk over to Mom’s armchair and give her a hug while keeping a raised eyebrow locked on my sister.
Dad’s truck wasn’t in the driveway, so he’s likely at his hardware store. Meaning his comfy recliner is up for grabs. I sink into it.
Denny leans on the kitchen counter and replies, “It’s all the drugs.”
Blair sticks her tongue out at him.
I don’t know…. I think he has a lot more to do with it than the heavy painkillers.
He hasn’t left her side since she broke her ankle. A level of commitment and tender care I only see in the books I read. My heart pangs at the sight of them making googly eyes at each other, so clearly in love despite years spent apart. Even if I meet a man who looks at me the way Denny’s currently looking at my sister, he won’t stick around once he realizes I’m damaged goods.
Of course, I wouldn’t trade my son for the entire world. By and large, I’ve come to terms with Jonas being my only child. In the last year, he’s definitely made up for the lack of siblings by creating the chaos of three or more kids. Yet there’s always been a small part of me that wishes I’d done things the “right” way. Meet an amazing man who looks at me like I hung the moon, fall deeply in love, get married, have a baby. If some higher power decided I’m destined to have only one kid, it would’ve been nice to have that happen with somebody I love.
And though I don’t date, I nurture a delicate hope that one day I’ll find someone.
Colt’s captivating gaze, gentle touch, and the way he calls memamamakes my heart—and other body parts—flutter, butI know better than to give in to that. Jonas and I can’t handle heartbreak. Especially not in the state we’re currently in.
Blair turns her attention back to me. “Anyway, what’s up your butt this morning?”
“Nothing, except that it’s too early to be over here. Jonas comes by his general hatred for mornings honestly.”
“Where’s Jonas?” Mom asks.
Though it couldn’t have been more than a year ago, it feels like centuries have passed since Jonas was eager to hang out with his grandparents. He used to sit in the garage while Dad tinkered with things, handing him wrenches and talking his ear off. Or we’d all sit outside watching Jonas teach himself to do wheelies and ride without holding the handlebars.
“I think he’s still recovering from that random sickness he had the other day. Plus, he’s always so tired from his days at the ranch, I let him sleep in on therapy day.”
Blair scowls over at Denny. “You’re really working that kid to the bone, aren’t ya?”
“Not me!” Denny hands her a coffee, then throws his hands in the air. “That’s all Colt.”
“It’s all good,” I say. “Colt’s been so good to Jonas, especially with Alex basically dropping off the face of the Earth again.”
Blair’s sideways glance as she takes a long, slow sip of coffee speaks louder than words.
“It’s no surprise. I really think that week he picked Jonas up from therapy only happened because I mentioned Colt and it made him jealous.”
