“No shit. I could never get into regular therapy either. It’s just not for me. I always left feeling more pissed off than when I walked in—or mad at someone I wasn’t mad at before. Then I found this girl who does hypnotherapy, and I loved it. That, hot yoga, and meditation? Total game changers.”
“I totally get what you mean about therapy. I went when I was younger and I’d leave like,Cool, so now I’ve unpacked my dad’s alcoholism, but somehow I’m mad at Michael, who didn’t even do anything this week.”
We laugh as we step into our showers. The cold water hits my skin, and I stand there, letting it wash away more than just the sweat. I feel good. Like my soul was mended—just a little, but still…
I wish I could tell Jensen about it.
My brows furrow as I scrub my hair, my feel-good moment short-lived.
So much for not thinking about him.
I settleinto Cooper’s car, pulling my phone out of my bag to turn the sound back on. My eyes drop to the screen as it lights up. I freeze.
Shit.I have a text.
From Jensen.
My pulse kicks up a notch. A thickness swells in my throat, and my fingers tremble as I stare at it.
Cooper must notice the shift in me because she asks, “What’s wrong? Who is it?”
“Um…” I swallow, hard. “It’s Jensen.” I take a deep breath, trying to figure out what the hell my body is doing. Am I nervous? Scared? Sad? Excited? What is this?
“Shut the fuck up! What does it say?”
“I don’t know.” The words come out raspy. “What do I do?”
Her brows pull together. “Well, you’ve got to read it first to know what to do.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” But I don’t open it. Not yet. “Why am I nervous to read it?” I let out a quiet laugh. “It’s just a text. That’s stupid, right? It’s not even that big of a deal.”
She turns onto my street. The yoga studio’s only a few minutes from Leo and Vivian’s. “What do you mean it’s not a big deal? Of course it is. You haven’t spoken to him in months—and he’s your husband. He’s out of rehab. You filed for divorce. It was only a matter of time before he reached out. He’s going to try to get you back.”
We pull into the parking garage and stop by the entrance of the condo. She throws the car into park, then turns toward me. “Do you want me to stay while you read it, or would you rather go in and be alone?”
“You think he’s going to try and get me back?” I whisper.
“Without a doubt. Why wouldn’t he? Look at you—you’re a catch, Alley. And if he’s clean now, he’s not about to just let you go. He’d be an idiot if he did.”
Her comment stirs something inside me. And I can’t tell if it’s fear, hope, or the sheer ache of missing someone who completely wrecked me. I knew he’d reach out eventually. But I didn’t actually think about it. And now that it’s here? I’m not ready. Not even close.
I served him papers months ago, and I expected hard conversations then. But now? After months of silence? After all this time spent trying to move on, trying to bury this—it’s like I’m getting yanked back into something I’ve barely started to accept myself. I’ve been stuck, waiting for him to finish rehab. I feel like I’ve only just taken my first few steps forward.
One step forward, two steps back. That’s what it feels like.
And it sucks.
What if it’s everything I’ve wanted to hear? Or worse… what if it’s not?God, why is the one thing I want him to say the one thing he shouldn’t?
It’s like I want him to want me—but only on my terms. Only if it comes with a safety net. A guarantee that he’ll stay clean. That my heart won’t break all over again.
But that’s not how this works, and I know it. So?—
“I want you to stay,” I finally say.
My thumb hovers over the screen before I swipe up. My fingers tremble as I tap on the thread with Jensen’s name.
I read it out loud.
