Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
ROWAN
“Don’t you dare slam that door again, young lady!”
Hayden’s voice cracks through the house like thunder, colliding with the sharp bang of wood, and I freeze inside the great room.
Lately, I’ve been starting my day on the front porch, but I knew today might be difficult for everyone, considering it’s Cora’s birthday. So I went outside to do yoga to give Hayden some space, all things considered.
And apparently walked in on World War III.
I have a pretty good idea of what caused it, too.
As expected, Hayden’s father-in-law has arranged another memorial service honoring Cora’s memory, followed by a luncheon. While I disagree with constantly having to attend these memorials, it’s not my place to say anything.
Although it’s been a struggle to bite my tongue. Especially with how Presley’s been unravelling all week. She’s been short-tempered and withdrawn. Hell, she hasn’t even wanted to help cook dinner, something that’s usually the highlight of her day.
I try to slip through the living room unnoticed, hoping to disappear into my bedroom and give Hayden space to handle it, but he storms down the stairs at the exact moment I pass them.
His jaw is tight, eyes on fire, muscles rigid with frustration. Grief. Helplessness.
He looks like the Hayden from months ago.
The one who lived permanently on edge.
But when he sees me, his expression shifts, the tension falling from his shoulders.
He crosses the space between us in three strides and pulls me into his chest.
Hard.
For a second, I hesitate.
We’ve been careful lately. No lingering touches in the open. No blurred lines in front of the kids.
But today isn’t a normal day.
So I wrap my arms around him and give him the comfort I sense he needs.
“Rough morning?” I murmur.
Hayden blows out a humorless laugh. “You have no idea.”
His hand slides up to cradle the back of my neck, thumb brushing beneath my ear.
“But it’s better now.” He tilts my chin up and presses the softest kiss to my mouth.
It’s barely there, but it melts something inside me all the same.
God, I love this man.
The thought sneaks in before I can stop it. I didn’t mean it like that. I care about him. Want him to be happy. But I don’t love him.
I can’t love him.
“Is Presley being difficult?”
On a long exhale, he steps back, still keeping one hand on my hip, as if he needs the reassurance I’m here.
“She doesn’t want to go today.”
“She hasn’t been herself all week. Even her teachers noticed.”
“I know.” He releases me and drags a hand over his face, fatigue etched into every line. “But I need to be there. And if I need to be there, she does, too.”
“Is this really the best thing for her?”
His eyes flick up to mine.
I normally don’t question his decisions as a parent. But we’re not talking about signing Presley up for art classes or letting Jemmy have a play date.
This is bigger than that.
And it’s been affecting Presley’s mental health.
“I’m not a professional,” I continue softly, “but reminding her of the accident and losing her mom as much as your father-in-law does can’t be good for her. She makes so much progress, then it’s like we rip off the scab and she bleeds all over again.”
Upstairs, there’s another muffled thud followed by an angry stomp.
Hayden squeezes his eyes shut, his frustration evident.
But it’s mixed with something else, too.
It reminds me of the despair I saw that first night.
When he absentmindedly commented how he thought he’d have his shit together by now.
“It’s her mom’s birthday,” I say, running a reassuring hand up and down his arm. “She doesn’t need church services and speeches. Maybe she needs something lighter. Maybe… Maybe I should watch them today.”
He shoots his gaze to mine. “It’s your day off.”
“I don’t mind. I love spending time with them. We could do something fun. A yes day of their very own. Let them pick what they want to do.”
He hesitates, and I expect him to say no. Remind me of Presley’s obligations. Of all the reasons why she needs to sit in a church today instead of being a kid.
“Actually… I think that’s a really good idea.”
I blink, surprised. “You do?”
“I do.” He chuckles. “Although their grandfather won’t be happy…”
“When is he ever?” I mutter under my breath, then wince. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes, you did. And it’s okay. I’m willing to bear the brunt of Robert’s ire if it means Presley can have a good memory of today. She deserves it.”
I touch a hand to his bicep. “You all do. You could have a yes day, too.”
A small smile tugs at his mouth as he pulls me back into his arms. “I wish I could.”
He lowers his lips to mine and kisses me again. There’s no urgency in it. Just the same connection I’ve grown to crave over the past several weeks.
“Maybe I can have a yes night with you later,” he murmurs against my lips as he tugs me closer, slowly circling his hips so I can feel his erection.
“What would that entail?”
“I’m not quite sure. But I have all day to come up with my list.” He waggles his brows, giving me a mischievous smile.
“When you put it that way,” I begin, hoisting myself onto my toes, “how can I possibly say no?”
He covers my mouth with his one last time, our tongues briefly touching. Then he steps back, already squaring his shoulders, preparing to face the storm.
As I watch him climb the stairs, warmth blooms in my chest, and I wonder how much longer I can keep pretending this is just temporary.
Keep pretending my heart doesn’t ache at the idea of not seeing these people every day.
Keep pretending I’m not in love with my boss.