“For what? I didn’t want to be that woman. The one who shows up with her life in ruins, hoping someone will put her back together.”
“I wouldn’t think that.” She looks me dead in the eye. “I’m not here to fall apart. I’m here to rebuild my life. And I didn’t want to complicate yours. We had our thing, we talked about it. That’s that.”
“You’re not a complication. You’re?—”
“Ethan,” she cuts in. “Don’t.”
“Why not?” She sighs like she’s tired of even thinking about this. And I don’t blame her at all. “Because you’re still married, Ethan, and I’m not. Because I made my choice to step out of a marriage where both people were in the wrong, even if only one got caught. ” She exhales, eyes on the floor. “That doesn’t mean this is someclean slate for you and me. This isn’t a green light. This is me, rebuilding my life, being there for my kids.” I nod.
She folds her arms, now looking at me, “I need space. To figure this out. For me, not for you, not for anyone else.”
“I get it,” I say. “But I’m not disappearing, not now.” She finally softens, just a little. “Good, I appreciate that. But right now, what I need is a friend. Nothing more. If you can be that, then we’re good.”
“Okay. I’ll be that. No pressure, no nothing, just here. For you.” She looks at me. Like, really looks. Then, in a whisper, “Thank you.” And that melts me. I could kiss her right now and hold her. But I’ll settle for a hug. I open my arms, looking at her, and she comes right in. “You want to meet them?” she asks mid-hug. “The boys?”
There’s a lump in my throat I didn’t expect. “Yeah. I’d really like that.” They are her kids, but also his, and a part of me envies him for that. He got to have her as a wife, as the mother of his kids, and he screwed that up. What a fucking idiot.
She lets go of the hug and walks towards the backyard to open the door. “This is Ethan,” she says. “He is Mom’s friend.” They wave. I smile. And in that moment, standing in the middle of her new life, I know something for sure: She doesn’t need rescuing. She’s already saving herself. I want to be around to see it all. And maybe, maybe I’m finally seeing her as more than the girl I lost.
She’s the woman I’d do anything not to lose again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
OLIVIA
The kids are finally asleep.Matthew’s curled into a tight little ball with his blanket over half his face, and Jer is spread out like a king in a twin bed, one sock halfway off. I stand in the doorway for a beat, just watching and breathing them in.
I don’t think I’ve exhaled in days.
When I walk into the living room, Ethan’s still on the couch. He has his glasses on, flipping through the floor plans Josh sent over. The laptop’s on the ottoman. He’s in work mode, but his eyes soften when he looks up.
“Do I look like a nerd?” he asks, tapping a corner of the page. I nod, laughing and dropping into the armchair. “I like it. This version of you,” I say, signaling around the couch. I’ve never seen him like this. We barely studied in high school, to be honest, and I missed his college years, so this is new to me. And I like it.
He glances up with a smile on his face. “So now that you’re actually here, you think you’re in?”
“Oh, I’m in. A 100%,” I say. “Still have a few contracts to wrap in the city, but I can manage most of it remotely.” He looks at me, and I got the message. He isn’t asking just about the project. But we both played it cool. He leans back on the couch. “Good. You’ll be a hell of an asset.”
I smile at him, but I’m secretly praying that he doesn’t ask anything else. “Look at us. All professional and civil.” He grins, then checks the time and stands, shrugging into his jacket. “I should head out. Got some updates to prep before tomorrow’s walkthrough. And you should rest. You’ve been having long days lately.”
I walk him to the door, and just as I’m about to open it, we hear footsteps on the porch. Julia barrels up, slightly out of breath, carrying a duffel and a giant tote bag like she’s been on a month-long pilgrimage. She stops short when she sees Ethan. “Oh. Ethan. You are here.”
“Hey,” he says, polite but casual. “Long trip?” I ask, eyeing the luggage. “Only if you count the six-block detour because your street is blocked for god-knows-what,” she mutters, brushing past both of us. He nods, then glances at me, something quiet hanging between us. “See you tomorrow.”
“Night,” I say. The door clicks behind him, and Julia immediately drops the bag in the entryway like she’s claiming territory. “You brought the big bag,” I say.
“Obviously. I’m moving in.” I blink. “I’m sorry, what now?” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “You think I’m going to let you juggle divorce, two kids, a full-time job,an ex, and a crumbling emotional core all by yourself? Not a chance.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re seriously moving in?”
“For a bit. Until you stop staring out windows like some Victorian widow waiting for her ship captain to come back from sea.”
“I’m not?—”
“You are. But it’s okay. I’ll keep the windows clean while you pine dramatically.” I laugh, even as tears start slipping out. I don’t want to cry again; this is not a breakdown, this is just a quick release. She wraps her arms around me, tight, no questions asked.
“You’re doing it, Liv,” she murmurs. “You’re actually doing it.”
“I’m scared,” I admit into her shoulder. “I know,” she says. “But you’re also stubborn as hell and a lowkey badass. You’ve got me. You’ve got coffee. And like... six boxes of expired Lucky Charms in your pantry.” I laugh again, because she’s right, and also because it finally feels okay to.
