“Morning.” She smiled back and had no doubt hers was as wooden as his. Then she poured herself her daily mug of coffee and got busy buttering toast and helping the boys peel mandarin oranges.
They ate. Josh herded the kids upstairs to brush their teeth and grab their packs. Then he took them to daycare.
Once they were gone, Riley filled her coffee mug again. It was a good-size mug, and she probably shouldn’t drink more than one mugful a day. But without a little help from extra coffee, she might not make it through the morning.
Josh was back too soon. He wasted no time pouring himself more coffee and joining her at the kitchen table.
Dear Lord, he looked as exhausted as she felt. She wanted to reach across the table, lay her hand on his, beg him to…
What? Give her another chance? A chance at what? They both knew that what they had wasn’t going anywhere. She had made that perfectly clear. They were going to be raising a child together. And if they got lucky, someday they might move on from this awful place where he wanted everything, and she couldn’t go there. Someday, they might be friends again.
But this was not that day.
This was the day it all came crashing down.
“So,” he said and paused long enough to sip coffee. When he set down his cup, he added, “We should talk.”
She had to clear her throat before any words would come out. “Ahem. Sure. Go ahead…”
“All right, then.” He looked down into his cup as though the words he needed to say to her might somehow be written there. When he met her eyes again, he said, “I want to be clear about last night.”
“Okay…”
“Last night was beautiful. You didn’tlureme into your room. I wanted to go there—and that means last night and every night. I’ve loved every minute of it, of you and me, together. And I do understand how you feel. You’ve always been honest.” He shut his eyes, drew in a slow, careful breath. And then he continued, “But, Riley, I can’t do this anymore. I’m way past the whole friends-with-benefits phase. I can’t be with you every day and sometimes at night and know the whole time that it’s not going anywhere. Not anymore, not the way I feel about you now.”
She couldn’t bear to look in his beautiful eyes, so she tipped her head down and stared into her empty mug. This was bad. Worse than she’d ever imagined. Her heart was breaking, and the whole point had been for that not to happen.
He wasn’t finished. “I need some time to myself to…make peace with the way it’s going to be. I need to go back to my own house. If you can’t manage without me yet, we can—”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll figure things out. It’s not your responsibility to make arrangements for me. If you don’t want to be here, you shouldn’t have to be here. I can manage on my own now. I really can.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
His broad shoulders slumped. “Okay, then. Let’s think this through.”
Think it through? At the moment, she only wanted to bury her face in her hands and cry like a baby.
He went on, “First and foremost, there are the boys to consider.”
She nodded. “I agree.” The boys—and their unborn daughter—mattered most of all.
“They should have a little time,” he said, “to get used to the idea that Shane and I won’t be staying here anymore.”
“Okay. That…makes sense.” Did it? She wasn’t sure.
“Well, then how about if we tell them tonight that you’re getting to the point where you don’t need extra help around the house? Then Shane and I will stay here until Saturday when he goes back to Lenore’s.”
“Josh. That’s not right. You said you want to go. You should just go.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. A few more days won’t hurt. And if you need me, I’ll be here to—”
“No. That’s just not fair.”
He laughed. It was not a happy sound. “Who ever said that any of this was fair?”
“Okay, maybe ‘fair’ is the wrong word. But I meant what I said. I can manage. I think we should just tell the kids the truth—so far as it goes. That my ankle is better, and it’s time that you and Shane moved home.”
