“Okay,” I whisper, slowly shimmying to the side of the counter so I can walk around his ridiculously hot body. For a moment, we lock eyes as I back away, but he stays by the counter. Only when I finally turn to head into my room does he step away.
“Okay, girls, show me what you’re playing!” I hear him exclaim. Two seconds later, I’ve closed the door of my bedroom behind me.
I collapse face-first into my bed. For a brief moment, I stay right there against the duvet, breathing in the clean laundry scent of the fabric. I revel in being completely alone and being touched by absolutely no one.
Although I have to admit, I’d like to be touched by a very specific someone. Someone who isn’t related to me in any way.
Once the overstimulation has dissipated from my body, I settle on my bed and doom-scroll through social media for a few minutes. From the kitchen, I can make out the sounds of the girls squealing and Will laughing alongside them. It feels strangely odd to be an outsider to this moment. But it is a relief.
Now that I think about it, I don’t know why I’m so surprised to see Will having fun with my girls. When I was still with Matt and Will came over, he’d play with Gwen all the time. He’d hold Heather when she fussed. Some days, it almost seemed like he was more interested in the kids than in Matt.
A trickle of doubt drops down my back, sending a shiver across my spine. But I push the thought away as soon as it materializes:What if Will cares about the girls more than about me?But it’s a completely ridiculous thought. If Will wants to be a father, all he has to do is stop jumping from one relationship to the next. Settle down.
A wave of disgust flows through me at the thought of Will with another woman. Yet another ridiculous thought. I don’t have any claim to Will. And even if I did? I don’t want it. I needsomeone who can commit. Someone who won’t run away when the dullness of my domestic life gets too overwhelming.
Does that man even exist?
After I’ve had a solid twenty minutes to myself, I return to the kitchen and join Will and the girls in their game of house. I even enlist Julian, who becomes the house cat; don’t ask me how Heather came up with that idea. The next hour whizzes by in a blur of laughter and play, and before I know it, it’s time to get the girls ready for bed.
Will takes care of Julian while I bathe the girls and guide them through their evening routine: brushing teeth, changing into pyjamas, and reading each of their favourite bedtime stories. Before Gwen agrees to close her eyes, she asks for Will to come tuck her in, which sends a strange flutter through my heart. Feeling unusually brave tonight, I decide to press my luck and attempt to put Julian to bed at the same time as the girls. After all, he’ll need to start sleeping earlier eventually.
Why not tonight?
After all is said and done, I’m exhausted. Letting out a long breath, I collapse on the couch, throwing my head back against it. From the kitchen, the familiar sound of the faucet running and dishes getting scrubbed filters in my ears.
Right. He said he’d do the dishes.
I close my eyes, allowing myself to feel the heaviness of my body. With a deep breath in and out, it seeps from my back to the couch cushions. It cleanses me of the day. As I’m lying there, revisiting every moment, the achiness and tiredness I feel in my body are worth it.
I wish every day could be like this.
If Will and I were to be a thing … if we were to take the leap and become more than friends … every day could be like today. This could be my new normal. My new family unit.
For the first time, I allow myself to fully feel what’s blossoming in my chest, its delicate petals fluttering against my ribcage with tenderness. But then my stomach sinks, leaving this flower to wilt.
Will doesn’t see me like this. I’m just a friend. Family. Like a sister, maybe. And to hope for anything more is setting myself up for heartbreak all over again. Because even if he were to feel something more than friendship for me—whether it’s lust, or something deeper—he’d get bored of me quickly.
That’s just how he is. I can’t ask him to change.
My train of thought gets interrupted by footsteps coming my way. I sit up just in time to see Will entering the living room. The sleeves of his black shirt are pulled back from doing the dishes, his forearms jutting out, tantalizing me. His dark hair is slightly mussed up from playing with the girls. It makes the sight of him almost unbearably hot.
“Dishes are done.” He’s holding a steaming mug, which he promptly deposits on the coffee table. “I went ahead and assumed you still drink this.” I lean over the table to see what’s inside the mug—it’s herbal tea. More specifically, licorice root. My favourite evening beverage. In fact, it’s been my favourite for almost five years.
Will used to tease me about it when I’d stroll into the living room while he and Matt were gaming.“Who chooses licorice root tea? Of all the options available?”
But he remembers. And there’s not a hint of teasing in his eyes now.
My heart skips a beat.
“So, what do you usually do with your evenings once the kids are in bed?” He walks around the coffee table and drops in the centre of the sectional couch, his knees only about an inch away from my toes. “And when you’re not sick out of your mind?”
“I take out the coke and meth. Invite twenty or so friends. Start blaring out EDM as loud as the speakers will go.” I roll my eyes, and the corner of his lips move up. “I’ll just zone out in front of the TV. Or, if I’m feeling particularly adventurous, I’ll read a book.” I raise my eyebrows in false shock, and he responds by faking an exaggerated impressed look.
“Is it okay if I tag along?” His eyes are hopeful. “Just do what you’d usually do.”
“It’s kind of boring.”
“That won’t kill me.”
