Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
ALLEY
Five Weeks Later
I take a deep breath as Jensen pulls into his parents’ driveway. Knots twist in my stomach, nausea rising. I haven’t spoken to Christy in months, and when I did…
Well, I’m not proud of what I said.
Jensen throws the car in park, unclicks his seatbelt, and reaches for the door.
I don’t move.
He lets go of the handle, sits back, and drops his hand to my thigh, giving it a squeeze. “You okay?”
“No.” I take in a shaky breath. “I’m nervous. Your mom has to hate me. There’s no way she doesn’t. Not after the things I said and how I left it.”
His lips press together. “She doesn’t hate you. She made mistakes. You made mistakes. Don’t let this hold you back anymore. You used to love my mom. You guys were so close.”
“I know. It’s just…” Tears spring to my eyes, and I swipe at them fast. “God, I don’t know why I’m so emotional.
” My bottom lip quivers, and I hate not feeling in control right now.
Seeing Christy again is a big deal. “I just feel stupid, you know? I lashed out at her.” I shake my head hard.
“And I’ve been so stubborn. Like—I get it.
My mom did the same shit for my dad that Christy did for you.
I did the same shit with my dad. For years, I did. ”
He leans across the console and kisses me—warm, tender—replacing the fear inside me with the calm that always comes with him.
Then he takes my hand, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.
“It’s water under the bridge, babe. Just talk to her.
” His eyes lock on mine, earnest, steady. “She’s not mad. Promise.”
“Okay,” I whisper, nodding, trying to reassure myself. “Let’s go then.”
I push the door open and step out. We pass Megan and Kevin’s car on the way in, and Amber and Jeff’s is parked next to the curb. Thank God, we’re not the first ones here.
“Where’s Matt?” I ask, tugging my jacket tighter as we round the walkway to the porch.
“He had a meeting. He’ll be here in a bit.”
Jensen pushes the front door open, and I step inside. The smell of garlic and roasted chicken wafts down the hall. Grace, the oldest grandchild, is sprawled out on a sofa staring at her phone. She looks up, eyes going wide.
“Alley!” She springs to her feet and throws her arms around me.
“Hi, beautiful girl,” I say through laughter. “It’s so good to see you.” I pull back, grinning. “Look at you. When did you get taller than me?”
She smiles. “Your hair’s longer. It’s so pretty.”
“Thank you,” I say.
She gives Jensen a quick hug, then slumps back into her chair.
We walk through the foyer into the back of the house where everyone’s scattered. Jeff, Kevin, and Tom are at the table. Amber and Megan are chopping and stirring alongside Christy.
“Hey, guys,” Amber calls out.
Nerves creep up my throat as Christy looks up.
She smiles, sets the knife down on the cutting board, and comes straight at me, arms wide.
“Alley!” She pulls me into a hug, squeezing like I never left.
“It’s so good to have you here.” Her perfume, the softness of her sweater, the warmth of her arms—it steals the breath right out of me.
My arms circle her back, hesitant at first. Suddenly, being held by the only mom I have left hits me hard, and all my stubborn pride feels so petty.
God, she was dealing with the same shit I was.
Addiction.
Only it was her son and not her husband.
We all deal with it differently. There’s no right or wrong way. It’s sink or swim, and she tried to swim with Jensen. Tried to keep him afloat. Tried to save him. That’s part of it too—the codependency, the enabling.
My grip tightens automatically, and my voice catches as I manage, “Thank you. It’s good to be here.”
She lets me go and moves to Jensen, giving him a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. “I hope you’re both hungry.” Then, to him, “I made plenty of gluten-free options. I know you have dietary restrictions now.”
“You didn’t have to do that, Mom.”
“It was no problem.” She gestures back at the counter. “Alley, do you mind making the salad?”
A slow smile spreads across my face, tension melting. “Sure.” The simple normalcy of being asked to help is everything. So simple, yet it feels like I belong—again.
Matt’s voice echoes over the noise of conversation and knives against cutting boards. “Tell me the hockey game’s on. Why the hell isn’t the game on?”
“Because no one cares about hockey, Matt,” Megan shouts through the chaos.
“Bullshit,” Jensen and Matt shoot back in unison.
Megan eyes Matt. “Why are you dressed so stiff? It’s Sunday.”
“I had a meeting.” Matt unbuttons his collar, shrugs off his blazer, and tosses it over a chair before he and Jensen disappear into the living room to watch the hockey game.
I make my way toward the counter where Christy’s laid out all the salad fixings.
Megan glances up from the charcuterie board she’s arranging. Her voice drops, quiet. “You alright?”
She knows how nervous I was to come today.
I nod, grabbing a cutting board. “Yeah, I’m good. How was your weekend? What’d you guys do?”
“Nothing big. Basketball games and dance performances. The kids ran the show.” She smiles faintly, then tilts her head. “Is moving day still Saturday?”
“Yep. Movers are scheduled for the morning.”
“And how long am I allowed to stay mad at you?” Megan teases, though her watery eyes give her away.
“Six more days. I’m gonna need you on your A-game come Saturday.”
She mulls it over. “Fine. Until then, I’m still kind of mad. No, actually, I’m not mad at you. Only Jensen.”
I laugh softly. “Why only Jensen?”
“Because he’s the one who found the house.” She nudges my elbow, smiling through it. “I’m joking. You know I’m so happy for you. Just… gonna miss you guys.”
“I know.” My voice dips to a whisper. “I’ll miss you too. All of you.”
Our offer was accepted on the house five weeks ago.
We closed a few days ago, and now we’re officially homeowners, in Chicago.
It’s bittersweet. I’ve been there for seven months, but these last few I’ve come back here almost every other weekend.
Now it feels final. Like I won’t see my friends, this family that’s become my own, more than a handful of times a year—holidays, some birthdays, maybe once or twice in between. The thought cuts deep. It sucks.
But I’m excited, too. I love that house.
Every time we’ve gone over, whether to measure for furniture or just stand on the sidewalk and stare at it, the anticipation builds.
It feels right, moving forward with my husband, starting this new chapter in a place that’s ours.
Piece by piece, everything’s falling into place.
Jensen’s been incredible these past few weeks—months, really. My relationship with him is my number one priority, with my dad a close second. He’s been doing well, all things considered, and I pray he stays stable.
By the time I finish the salad, dinner’s ready and everyone gathers around the table.
“So what’s new with everyone?” Tom asks, glancing around.
“Jensen and Alley are moving in six days. So you’d all better be at their house to say goodbye, and bring booze.” Megan pauses, eyes flicking to Jensen. “Or maybe hold off on the booze.”
“Meg, you drink around me all the time. It’s fine. Just bring it. Everyone knows I love getting fucked up on Liquid Death.”
That causes everyone to laugh.
“Liquid Death?” Kevin chimes in. “Damn, Alley, watch out, you’re about to get railed Saturday.”
I shoot Kev a look, brows furrowed. “You have no idea, Kev. When Jensen’s had a few?” I pucker my lips and let out an exhale, like it’s the hottest thing ever.
Jensen chuckles. “I’m so glad you’re all comfortable making my weaknesses the butt of your jokes.”
I lean into him. “Ah, babe. We love you. I’m drinking Liquid Death, too. You’re not the only one.”
“Oh, two Liquid Death drinkers? You’re bound to have an unforgettable night,” Meg adds.
“Alright, alright. Take it easy, everyone,” Tom says loudly. He turns his attention to me and Jensen. “Do you two need any help this week?”
“Nah,” Jensen replies. “We hired a moving company, and as you all know,” he points to me, “Alley is a control freak. She’s boxing up everything that’s important, and everything else will be left for the movers.”
“Well, I for one am going to miss you both. But I’m very happy for you,” Christy announces.
Jensen grins. “Thanks, Mom.” He drapes an arm around my shoulder and presses a kiss to my temple. “We’ll miss you all too, but we can’t wait.”
“Your father and I plan to come visit once you’re settled.”
“That’ll be great.” Jensen shoves a bite of chicken into his mouth, chews, then says, “Maybe wait until summer when the weather’s better. Besides, we’ll be back in a month for Jordan’s wedding.”
Matt’s head jerks up. “What? You already got your invitation?”
“Yeah,” Jensen says slowly. “A few weeks ago.”
Matt turns to Megan. “Did you and Kev get one?”
She hesitates. “Yeah. Same time as Jensen and Al. You didn’t?”
Matt’s jaw tightens. “No. When were you all planning to tell me?”
“Honestly, man, I just assumed you had one, too. I figured we’d all go together,” Jensen says sincerely.
It’s a little harsh but not surprising. Jensen told me about his drunken text messages to Jordan last month.
“Fuck,” Matt mutters. “I can’t believe it.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “It’s like I never even existed.”
“I’m sorry,” Megan says softly. “It makes sense, though. You two have a lot of history. She’s probably just trying to do right by her fiancé.”
“Exactly. We have so much history, that I can’t fathom not inviting her to my wedding.”
“Oh?” Meg cocks a brow. “You getting married any time soon?”
He drags a hand down his face and groans. “Next topic!”
“Alright,” Megan smirks, stabbing at her salad. “Did you all see Matt in this month’s Town & Country? Made Manhattan’s Most Eligible Bachelors list.”