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1. Summer

CHAPTER 1

Summer

I pull open the now-empty drawer and contemplate what to fill it with. It’s been seven years since I’ve had a dresser all to myself. The newly open space feels like a luxury. Can I have a separate drawer for socks and one for underwear? The thought pathetically excites me. It’s been too long since I was able to single-handedly make decisions about my own space.

“Summer?” A gruff voice that I’m all too familiar with pulls me out of my underwear reverie. I snap the drawer shut with a hollow thunk. Taking a second to look around the room, I realize that despite a few empty drawers, the room still looks remarkably unchanged. The same sage-green comforter, the same large window that lets in just a little too much light in the morning, the same mismatched furniture, which we pieced together over years looking for good deals. It feels like the room should look completely different, given the circumstances.

“Yeah, did you need any help?” I ask Jared, my very recent ex. It’s been awkward while we transition out of the life we built together and into the new one. It feels a little like wearing a new pair of shoes that need to be broken in. The heel chafes a bit, but you know if you walk around in them for a while, they’ll eventually fit the way they’re supposed to.

“Nah, me and Duncan got the last of the stuff,” he replies. I nod, giving him a tight smile. His best friend, Duncan, has always been a sore spot for us. It seems fitting that he would be here to witness this final end.

“Okay.” He sighs, running his hand through his short, dirty blonde hair. I used to thread my fingers through those same strands, and the act of him doing that reminds me of when we shared our first kisses in the halls of Lakeland High.

The memories make me wish that it could be different. That it didn’t end this way. I wish we had gotten our happily ever after. Although, that wishing is kind of what got us into this mess.

“Okay. Well, I’m going to go say goodbye to Emma. Will you walk me out?” he asks. I nod and we leave our— my room.

“Daddy!” Our six-year-old daughter, Emma squeals as we get to her room down the hall. I lean a shoulder against the door jamb as Jared walks in to hug her tightly. He pulls her onto his lap and sits on her twin bed, brushing aside the princess curtains that frame it. She curls into his chest, biting a tiny, pink-painted fingernail. “So, you’re really leaving?”

“Yes, Em. Remember, Mom and I just talked to you about this? Daddy is moving into an apartment in town where you’ll come to stay every other week. This week, you’ll be with Mommy, and next week you’ll stay with me,” Jared says, brushing her long, strawberry-blonde curls out of her face.

She sticks out her bottom lip, a trick she learned could get her almost anything from her dad, “I won’t see you until next week?” That pouty lip starts to wobble with unshed tears. It hurts to see her hurting, but she’ll have to get used to this. I know these first months will be hard, but I hope eventually it becomes second nature.

He looks down to see tears rolling down her cheeks. “Oh, sweetie.” He brushes them away with his thumbs. “I’m sure I can come by and see you a couple of times this week.” He looks to me for assurance. I nod and step away, wanting to give them a moment alone.

I head to the kitchen and pour myself another cup of coffee in my favorite mug; it’s decorated with little painted suns and was a gift from my mother who always said I was her sunshine. After dosing it with creamer and giving it a good stir, I take a sip, looking out the bay window of our breakfast nook. I’m only twenty-five, but at this moment I feel closer to the grave than the cradle. I guess that’s what happens when you have a child so young—you’re forced into a much older mindset, sooner than you’re ready for. I feel like I’ve already lived a full lifetime between having Emma, who just started Kindergarten the previous fall, and choosing to end my first and only relationship.

I take a seat at the little bench that borders the small round table nestled near the curve of the bay window. This bench has always been my happy place. I have multiple, thriving plants that hang in front of the large window, and built-in bookshelves stuffed to the brim with books for myself and Emma along the sides. I turn to look out the window where Duncan is outside in his truck, scrolling on his phone. I look away quickly when I see him shift in his seat before we can make eye contact. Duncan’s dislike for me runs deep and I’ve never understood why.

All three of us have known each other since high school. Duncan and Jared were best friends, even then. When I joined their group project in Spanish our senior year and Jared took an interest in me, Duncan seemed to resent the time we spent together. Maybe he felt I was taking him away from his best friend, or maybe he didn’t think I was worthy of him. Either way, he never moved past his dislike for me. It actually got worse when I got pregnant soon after graduation.

“I still can’t believe you got her pregnant, man. You could do so much better than an overweight chick with daddy issues.” My heart drops and I nearly drop my glass along with it. I hear Duncan’s voice clearly through Jared’s speakers on his gaming computer in the living room. It makes me stumble because even though they look very different, Jared and Duncan sound remarkably alike, especially when filtered through a speaker.

I have one hand on the doorknob of our bedroom and the other drops to my rounded belly. I’m eight months pregnant, and when I’m not working, I spend most of my time resting. I never thought this level of exhaustion was possible. I used to pull two all-nighters in a row to study for finals, and I still never felt this run down.

“Bro, shut up. Like you can do any better,” Jared retorts over the clicking of his keyboard. They’re playing some sort of online multiplayer, like usual. The dulcet tones of rapid gunfire explode in the silence. I know that Duncan is Jared’s best friend, but I can’t believe that Jared wouldn’t defend me. I feel the telltale burn in my sinuses before a tear rolls down my cheek. I quickly swipe it away, debating whether I should keep listening. It feels like an invasion of privacy, but I can’t pull myself away.

“You know she’s just baby trapping you. She knows you’re way out of her league and made sure you could never leave,” Duncan sneers.

Just like that, he hits on my biggest insecurity. Jared was popular in high school. He wasn’t much of a sports guy, but everyone liked him. Girls fell all over him and the guys wanted to be friends with him. He had that boy-next-door look and an easy charm that attracted everyone. He was muscled and tan from working on his grandpa’s farm on the weekends and during the long summers between school.

I, on the other hand, was a debate nerd with a small group of friends. While I’ve never been shy, I also never had people climbing over themselves to be my friend—or boyfriend for that matter. I was a size 14 by the time I was fourteen, and as my curves matured, my size continued to tick up. With the extra height puberty gave me, my belly flattened out a bit, but I was still plus-sized.

“Duncan. Enough,” Jared’s voice suddenly has a rough edge.

“What, can she hear me?” Duncan’s voice lowers enough that I have to press my ear to the cheap wood of the door to hear them.

“Nah, she’s sleeping, but you shouldn’t talk about her like that. I love her and she’s going to be the mother of my child.” Too little, too late , I think.

“Whatever, J. One day you’ll realize you made a huge mistake.”

I shake my head, dispersing the bad memory before it has a chance to grow claws. I never told Jared that I overheard their conversation, choosing instead to bury it. I didn’t want the conflict when we would be having a baby so soon. Moving on wasn’t hard to do, especially because Emma was born just three weeks later via C-section. The conversation got lost in the newborn fog and postpartum recovery.

I never forgot it though. With my insistence, Duncan didn’t spend much time around me after that. From what little I’ve gathered of Duncan’s past over the years, I know his parents were pretty awful and he doesn’t seem to have anyone but Jared in his corner these days. I have empathy for the guy, but I don’t want someone like that around my daughter.

Jared walks in scrubbing his five o’clock shadow, which makes him look older than he is. “She’s playing with her Legos now.” He looks like he wants to sit across from me on one of the stools, but chooses instead to lean against the small kitchen island.

“Okay, good. Did it take you long to calm her down?”

He shakes his head. “I told her I would call her every night before bed and I’d try to come by and see her at least once this week. I hope that’s okay with you.” He grabs his canvas jacket from the bench and slides it over his shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s fine. You know I don’t want you out of her life. That’s not the reason for all this,” I gesture outside to Duncan’s truck loaded with the last of Jared’s boxes.

“No, I know. It’s because I can’t be your perfect romantic hero.” He gives me a wry smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I never asked you to be perfect. I just wanted you to show me you cared. That you loved me, that you thought about me, even when I wasn’t directly in front of you.” I sit up a little straighter, the frustration like a steel rod in my spine.

“I did my best, but it was never enough for you.” His arms uncross and he grips the island so hard, his tanned knuckles turn white.

“What part of never setting a date for the wedding, never doing anything for my birthday or our anniversaries, and never taking me out says you ‘did your best’?” This is an old, tired argument, but we bait each other into it, regardless.

His brow creases in anger even though I see a flicker of what might be remorse in his dark eyes. “I’ve apologized a million times for those things! Sorry I was working my ass off to make sure Emma was taken care of. I didn’t have time for that stuff.”

I roll my eyes. “I was working, too! But I still remembered to celebrate your birthday. I still tried to do things that interest you. Hell, I even tried to fix our sex life.” I whisper the last comment, not wanting Emma to hear. “The point is, we both have a lot going on. We’ve both been stressed, but for the last five years, I’m the only one who’s been putting in any effort.” The anger deflates as quickly as it surged. I am tired of this argument. I take a deep breath and rake my fingers through my long auburn hair.

“I know,” he says quietly, “I really am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” He looks down at his feet, a line etched between his brows. His hands relax from their grip on the island and he shakes them out.

“I know,” I echo his words, peering into my half-empty coffee cup. I sigh and change gears to something we can agree on, “Look, just call me every night at eight. I’ll hand my phone over so you can talk to Emma. I don’t want this to affect her any more than it has to. We have to work together for her.”

He gratefully takes my opening to switch subjects, “Yeah, okay. On Wednesday, I’ll bring her by to show her the new place and we can have dinner. I’ll just pick her up from school and have her home by seven. Does that work for you?”

I nod, a small smile on my lips. Despite everything, I am so thankful to be co-parenting with him. He puts Emma above all else. We both want her to be happy. It’s such a switch from what I had growing up. I know firsthand how much separation can mess a kid up. I’m determined to make sure pick-ups and drop-offs don’t include shattered kitchenware and threats spit between clenched teeth. I won’t repeat the cycle.

He looks around the kitchen one last time, his jaw working. I wonder if he’s taking stock of everything he’s improved in here. The utensil drawer with its replaced track, the new hosing for the dishwasher, the replaced faucet…

Even though he’s technically just moving into his apartment today, he’s been sleeping in the guest room for the last month. He’s also been out as often as possible, either working more overtime or out with Duncan. This hasn’t felt like his home in a while, but today makes it feel more final.

I stand, ready to get this over with. “Okay, well, call me if you need anything. Maybe some decorating help so your apartment doesn’t look like a total bachelor pad, for Emma’s sake.”

He rolls his eyes with a smile. “Will do. I’ll call at eight tonight. See you later?” He starts to head for the front door.

“Sounds good,” I say, going to the door behind him. I watch him jump into the passenger seat of the truck, and wave goodbye as he closes the door, the midday sun glinting off the window and hiding him from view. I blow out a breath and lean against the door, yanking the sleeves of my shirt down to cover my hands from the early spring chill. I feel proud that I’m not repeating my parents’ mistakes, but nervous all the same. Now my new life begins.