Never thebigger halfof the problem, anyway.
But that’s something I’ll deal with when I get home.
If I want to benew and improved Emma, I have to.
Hiding from all of my problems and assuming that everything will turn out just fine in the end hasn’t worked so well, has it?
And I actively ignore that little voice in my head that saysbut the universe delivered Jonas to your doorstep. No matter how freaking hard silencing that little voice is.
But I do it.
This isnota reward for bad behavior.
This is a test. Or my opportunity to be a friend to someone else in need.
Or something.
“I told Peyton I wanted her to put her career on hold so we could start a family,” Jonas says into the pillow.
I almost squeeze my hands into fists.I wanted a family.
In my more honest moments, I can confess that’s why I stayed with Chandler so long. Because he looked like the fastest path to the family I wanted. Becausestarting overdidn’t meanthat much longer until I get married.
Starting over meantthat much longer until I have babies.
No matter how much I was or wasn’t actually in love withhim, I was wholly in love with the idea of the life we could have together.
I know I don’t have to want a family. I know I don’t have to fit into that box that the world likes to put women in.
ButI want it.
I crave it.
It’s always been what I’ve wanted. Who I’ve seen myself being. The idea of motherhood feels as right to me as Laney running her parents’ online photo gift shop feels right to her. As right as Sabrina running her family’s café always felt right to her.
And here I go with the regrets again, since Chandler just sold the café out of the family.
Without telling anyone.
And all of that has nothing to do with why Jonas got divorced, and this is my time to listen.
My hands drift lower, slathering his lower back with the aloe. “So the tabloids got it right.”
“They did.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And why didn’t you two work it out? That can’t be the whole story.”
He mumbles something into the pillow.
“Oh, you have a case of thedon’t wanna talk about its, hm?”
He sighs and turns his face so I can see his profile. The strong nose. Chiseled jaw. Pouty lips. Lowered lids with thick, dark lashes under his prominent brow.
All lit by the soft glow of the dipping sun.
