Violet looks like she belongs here.
Like waking up, feeding our cat, and making breakfast is normal.
It turns me on more than it should.
Adjusting myself in my sweats, I continue toward the door, running a hand through my hair as I go.
The doorbell rings again.
“Alright, I’m coming.”
I open the door?—
And freeze.
“Well,” Julia says coolly, her eyes slowly raking over me. “That explains a lot.”
My stomach drops. “…Julia.”
My ex-wife stands on the porch like she owns it.
Perfectly put together.
Perfectly composed.
She takes me in—bare chest, sweats, messy hair—and her gaze sharpens. “I didn’t realize you’d moved on this quickly.”
“I—what are you doing here?”
“I was in the area,” she says, like that explains anything. “Thought I’d stop by.”
Of course she did.
“Now isn’t a good time.”
“No. I guess it’s not.”
Her eyes flick past me into the house.
Violet steps beside me, her body brushing mine, calm as ever.
Julia goes still.
And for the first time since I’ve known her, she looks unsure.
Violet doesn’t say anything. She just stands there, crossing her arms over her chest as her gaze rakes over Julia.
Julia stares back before her gaze snaps back to mine.
“This is… new,” she says.
“Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”
Violet steps closer, positioning herself slightly in front of me.
Claiming me.
Julia notices.
