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Suddenly too exposed, even with my clothes mostly on, I need to get out of this room. “You mind if I use your shower before I head out?”

The guy nods, and I avoid looking at either of them as I go to clean myself up.

The client’s comment reminds me that this was only supposed to be for show. Dean and I both know it wasn’t. And I don’t know how we fit back into the neat boxes we kept each other in before.

I don’t think we can.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Michael

There’s only one picture of my sister holding Ella before she died, and it’s in a weathered wooden frame beside Ella’s bed.

Whenever I’m here to tuck my niece in, I’m hyperaware of its presence. Billie’s not even looking at the camera. She’s staring down in wide-eyed wonder at the daughter I’m now helping to raise. Used to be, I’d “accidentally” turn it face down to avoid my own guilt, but Ella got upset.

So did Dean.

I settle myself on her bed, pulling a pink fleece princess throw over my lap. I’m not as relaxed as I seem, probably. These moments with Ella are some of my favorites, and they also make me the most nervous. If things between Dean and me ever changed, would I lose Ella too?

“Okay, Ella-bean. Are we reading about the penguin migrations again tonight?”

She’s freshly bathed, smelling of coconut and wrapped up in her favorite cloud pajamas. Currently preoccupied with arranging her stuffed animals. “Where’s Daddy?”

“Daddy’s working tonight. I’m going to stay here with you.”

She accepts the explanation easily. Of course she does. She’s six. One of these days she might question what kind of job means Daddy has to be gone all night. The flimsy lie Dean cooked up works for now.

Gently, I bop her on the head with the book. “So. Penguins?”

Dean’s been buying her middle school science books. It’s a challenge when she reads so well but doesn’t have the maturity for a lot of the books aimed at her reading level. It’s a good idea, honestly.

He thinks I don’t notice the hours he spends combing the internet for book recommendations, the playlists of songs that are empowering to young women. Not sure how he’d take it if said anything to him, but I do notice.

Dean approaches fatherhood more seriously than he ever approached training. Or anything, really. Billie would have, too. I know it, because she made endless lists and plans after finding out Ella was coming.

The year Dean tried to paint a cat face on Ella for Halloween? You’d have thought celebrities and foreign dignitaries were going to be seeing those whiskers he spent so much time on.

It burns me, knowing that when Dean struggles with what to do for Ella, he asks himself what Billie would have done. But then I look at this little girl hugging her stuffed giraffe with her missing front teeth, and I can’t help but be grateful that Dean is who he is. Otherwise, where would any of us be?

And Billie would’ve been a great mom. It’s not her fault I was jealous.

“Here. Daddy got a new one.” She holds out a hardback with one of those library stickers on it.

“The Mysterious Case of the Missing Mouse,” I read. “This looks interesting.”

Ella nods seriously. “Daddy said Miss Sheila called to let him know the library was having a book sale. We went after school on Friday.”

“That sounds fun.” My laugh is an attempt to shake off the sudden tension between my shoulder blades. Miss Sheila is the pretty young lady who works at the public library downtown.

My entire life, I’ve envisioned librarians as older ladies with powdery curls and a pair of glasses on a chain around their neck. But Miss Sheila is young, with raven’s-wing hair and tan skin. She wears combat boots, and her eyeliner’s so flawless even I find it hard to hate her.

That’s a fucking lie. Hating anyone who might take Dean away comes as naturally as breathing. Shouldn’t be, but it’s true.

I’ve seen the way she looks at Dean, though. All heart eyes and wonder at the young single father who so devotedly cares for his daughter. The young mothers at the school are one thing. Most of them, at least, are married. Miss Sheila has made it a little too well known that she lives alone with her cats over a collectibles shop downtown.

Would she be able to step up when Dean wakes up screaming at night? Be what he needed? That’s my nightmare.

Clearing my throat, I open the book. “You want me to start?”