What do you do when the scent of the woman you crave, love, need, and would do anything for, including letting her go, is driving you to the brink of madness?
You walk away.
A cold shower later, my heart still drummed so loudly I thought she could probably hear it over the walls. I almost prayed that she would.
Reminding myself that her kids were close by helped more than the cold shower had to remedy what my body craved. But the heart? It kept beating to the rhythm of her name.
Chapter 27
January
Took me a moment to realize where I was.
White chiffon curtains flailing in a tender breeze. Sunshine washing in through large French windows, one of which was open. A vanity with wildflowers in a pot. A queen-sized bed that felt like a hug. Me splayed at the center of it.
I squinted, and my eyes took in the rest of the details of the pretty room. I was in Oliver’s house. Inside. On his floor. Just a few doors from him.
My kids. Stephanie.
I threw my legs over the side of the bed and hurried to get ready, remembering the red summer dress I had packed and the jean jacket I thought would finish theWill’s cool, young momkind of look I was hoping to pull.
Oliver’s bedroom door was open.
I descended the stairs, heading toward the voices that came from the kitchen.
Realizing one of the voices belonged to Lennox and the other to Oliver, I stopped outside the kitchen to listen, my heart doing inexplicable somersaults.
“He can sleep through anything, but any food-related noise—you know, like a spoon on the counter, pressing down the toaster, even just the fridge door opening—he’ll be up, eat his weight in whatever I’m making, and then complain that I woke him up.”
That was a perfect description of Will, and I had to suck in both my lips to avoid laughing out loud.
“So, I hope it’s okay I came in here to check what’s in the fridge,” Lennox added.
“No need to explain. You’re more than welcome.”
“Thanks. Didn’t realize anyone would be awake this early.”
“It’s eight.”
“That’s what I meant—early.”
I could hear Oliver’s huffed chuckle. “Enjoy spring break, man.”
Lennox chuckled, too. “I forget not everyone is on break. Hey, listen, um, thanks for letting my mom stay here. I don’t fully believe this place costs the same as our old apartment in Riviera View. You must be giving her a friend’s discount or something. Thanks for that.”
I held my breath.
“It costs the same. I’m a businessman first,” Oliver lied. “I’m not doing her any favors. I hope everything was okay for you guys yesterday.”
“It was perfect. We took so many pictures. Thanks for making us feel, you know, at home. We moved several times, so we get used to places fast. Credit to my mom, though. Being with her feels like home regardless of where we are.”
There was a long moment of silence, and then Lennox spoke again. “The pool’s great.”
He began talking about the pool in school and how he had gone to a few swim practices, but my mind was ping-ponging between melting at what my son had said about me and what stood behind his words. My motherhood style was a complete shift from my mom’s. I struggled alone and didn’t let them in on it, thinking it’d be better for them. Pretending like everything was fine, that I was getting by. It was just as wrong as her involving us in everything, because my sons had seen the constant need to move, the lack of money, me trudging along. The result was that they sensed it but didn’t have a name for it.
Maybe being a mother meant to err. No matter what style I adopted, I was going to make mistakes, fuck up somehow. I couldn’t be the perfect mother because there are no perfect mothers. I could only be good enough, be there no matter what else was going on in my life. That was the most a mother could do anyway.
The sounds of cupboards and drawers opening and closing, clanking of dishes, and the smell of coffee drew me out of my own head. I decided to make my presence known and took a few steps back to make sure my arrival was heard. I entered the kitchen, and the two lifted their heads and looked at me.
