Chapter 50 Ivy
CHAPTER FIFTY
Ivy
A few months in, and I’m still trying to wrap my head around this life.
It hasn’t been easy.
Small town gossip?
It’s a constant hum in the background, and no matter how many times I remind myself that I don’t give a damn, it’s hard to ignore when you’re living under the town’s microscope.
But hey, at least they’ve stopped looking at me as the walking scandal.
I guess that’s progress.
We’re in this beautiful house now, just on the edge of Coyote Glen. It’s big enough for me, Penny, the babies, and all three men who, for some insane reason, decided that being a part of my life was a good idea.
It’s quiet out here, and there’s something peaceful about it that makes me feel like maybe I can exhale.
The nursery is almost done, thankfully. Giraffes are everywhere. Timothy’s pick. I mean, I get it, the guy’s got a soft spot for animals, but giraffes? Really?
I’m almost positive I’ll end up staring at those goofy creatures more than I care to admit. At least they’re cute.
Penny loves it here.
She runs around as if she owns the place, which, given her personality, she does. I swear, the girl’s going to rule the world one day, and none of us will be able to stop her.
But what’s really getting to me is how right everything feels.
This is the calm I never thought I’d get.
A real home. It’s not perfect, sure. There’s still a lot of mess, physical and emotional, but it’s ours.
And for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m just passing through.
I don’t have to keep my guard up all the time.
And then, there’s them.
I don’t even know what to call this. Sometimes, we’re just figuring it out as we go. They all want me in different ways, and I want them, too. But it’s messy. It’s complicated. And maybe it’s a bit insane. But I wouldn’t change it. Not for anything.
Freddie, Mitchell, and Timothy… they each make my world spin in different ways. They bring things I didn’t know I needed. They make me feel seen. Whole. And I guess that’s the part I never expected. I didn’t think I could ever belong anywhere, with anyone. But here, in this house, with them, I do.
Jesse knocks before he even steps onto the porch, as if he’s still not entirely sure whether he’s welcome. He said he’d come, but I wasn’t sure he really would…
He stands outside for a long moment, just staring at the door, trying to talk himself into coming in.
The tension between us has been thick ever since that night he walked out, words left hanging in the air.
He’s tried, I know that. But there’s a difference between trying and truly accepting. And Jesse... he’s not the type to make peace until he’s ready.
When he finally steps in, he’s easing into a space he’s not sure he belongs. He doesn’t say much, just a grunt of a greeting, eyes flicking over the living room, still getting used to the sight of all of us in one place.
The men are scattered around the house, each of them in their own little world, not quite doing anything but just being here, in the background.
Pickle barks once when Jesse enters, but even he knows better than to get too excited. This isn’t a moment for jumping and wagging tails. This is a moment for careful steps.
Jesse hesitates for a second and then sits on the couch.
He’s quieter than usual, but the air between us feels less heavy.
Maybe it’s the soft hum of Penny laughing in the other room, maybe it’s the fact that he’s been here long enough now that the awkwardness has started to fade.
There’s still a distance between us, a space he’s unwilling to cross, but it’s not the chasm it used to be.
“How’s the house?” he asks curiously.
The words don’t come with judgment, though. They’re just... curiosity.
“It’s good,” I say, shifting on the couch to ease the back pain. I place my hand on my swollen stomach, a small smile taking over. “It feels... like it’s ours. You know?”
He nods slowly. It’s the first time he’s acknowledged the good in any of this without the edge of sarcasm or disbelief.
That’s something.
“I’m glad. You deserve that,” he mutters, glancing at Freddie, then Mitchell, then Timothy.
His gaze lingers on them for a beat too long, but it’s not hostile. Just... calculating. Testing the waters. He’s not fully on board yet, but he’s getting there. And for that, I’m grateful.
Freddie leans against the doorframe, casually watching the scene unfold. He knows what this means, too. Hell, they all do. This isn’t a moment of absolution, but it’s a moment of progress. The kind we’ve all been waiting for.
“Come on,” I finally say, getting to my feet. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“Alright, show me what you’ve got,” he says, sounding a little more like himself.
He stands up a little too quickly, trying to keep up, but there's a hesitant look on his face. The door to this new life hasn't opened wide for him yet, but I'm determined to show him that it can.
I lead him through the house, starting with the living room. It’s nothing fancy, just a big, open space with mismatched furniture, some half-finished artwork on the walls, and Pickle lounging on the couch, as usual, as if he owns the place.
“You’re still not getting a real bed, huh?” Jesse teases, nodding toward the couch where Pickle's sprawled out happily.
I laugh, shaking my head. “That boy sleeps anywhere. You know that.”
We move to the kitchen next. It’s bright, with an island that Freddie always insists on sitting at. The shelves are lined with mismatched mugs, and there’s a corner where Timothy’s been leaving unfinished projects. Pieces of wood he’s been carving when he has time to kill.
“This place definitely feels... homey,” Jesse remarks, eyeing the half sanded boards. “I think I might actually be able to get used to it.”
We move down the hall toward the nursery, and my chest tightens just a little.
This room has become a symbol for everything I didn’t think I could have.
The walls are painted in soft pastels, and the giraffes are, well.
.. ridiculous. But they’re somehow perfect for what this place is: messy, surprising, and real.
“Wow, giraffe wallpaper in the nursery?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t ask. I don’t know how he convinced me either. But it’s growing on me.” I give him a pointed look. “You’ve got a better idea for the nursery, feel free to step up. Otherwise, let it go.”
He chuckles under his breath. “No promises.”
We stop at the cribs, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. For all the mess of our lives, this room is the one thing that’s really, truly perfect.
“This place is something else,” Jesse says quietly, his tone softening. “You really do have a family here now, don’t you?”
I glance at him, surprised at the vulnerability in his voice. There’s no judgment, no sarcasm. Just... understanding.
“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “It feels like we’re starting to get it right.”
We stand there for a moment, just taking it in, the stillness of the room, the tiny little cribs that are about to hold our babies, the giraffes on the wall that will always make me laugh no matter how many times I see them.
Jesse shifts uncomfortably, his hands shoved in his pockets. “It’s not perfect, though, right?”
I look at him, realizing for the first time that he’s not just talking about the house. He’s talking about everything.
“No,” I say, the words coming out softer than I expected. “It’s not perfect. But I think that’s okay. I’m okay with it.”
He nods, looking around one more time. “I’m glad. I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but... I think you’re doing alright.”
It’s the first time in months that Jesse’s actually said something like that to me without the weight of disappointment or anger attached.
“Thanks,” I say, my voice rough with a mix of relief and exhaustion.
“I’m still not sure about this whole... thing,” he says, his hands back in his pockets. “But I’m trying.”
I stop in my tracks, my heart stuttering at his words. “That’s all I can ask, Jesse. That’s all any of us can ask for.”