13. Chapter 13
I smile at the baby monitor, watching Jamie hold Ella as they both sleep.
She’s curled into his chest, her small fingers still gripping the fabric of his T-shirt while Jamie’s head rests against the headboard, his mouth slightly open.
They look… right. As though this has always been their place, and damn, it aches because I never thought seeing them like this would hurt and heal me at the same time.
I’ve been the one to rock her to sleep through her nightmares.
The one who figured out how to keep going after my father slammed the door in my face.
The one who’s been scared, overwhelmed, and exhausted, struggling through a legal battle with people who aren’t even related to my daughter—and then suddenly all of that stops.
And now he’s here, and just… fits.
This should feel good, but then why can’t I shake the nausea rising up my throat? Maybe it’s because I’ve spent years convincing myself he couldn’t be this man—that he wouldn’t want to be—and now he’s here, actually showing up, it feels like the ground might split beneath me.
It’s only been one day. Don’t get ahead of yourself.
Anyone can handle Ella for half a day, but the meltdowns, the sleepless nights, the endless patience it takes… that part he hasn’t seen yet, and when he does… will he still stay? Or will he decide we were never worth losing everything for in the first place?
I sigh, leaning back in the chair at the kitchen table. None of these thoughts are going to help me pass my GED anytime soon, and worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet is pointless. So I let them have this moment because they deserve it.
Placing the baby monitor to the side, I force myself to focus on the last chapter of my book. I’m halfway through solving for x when I hear soft footsteps behind me, only to find Jamie standing in the kitchen doorway. His hair is mussed, and his eyes are a little sleepy but still sparkling.
“She’s out,” he says, his voice rough with sleep. “Barely made it to the end of the story.”
I nod, fiddling with my pen to give me something to do besides stare at him.
I swear it doesn’t matter how often he’s around, I’ll always find it hard to look at him without blushing.
He’s just so hot without even trying. “She does that when she’s comfortable.
It’s like her little body finally lets go. ”
Jamie smiles softly. “She’s everything,” he says in awe.
“She is.”
“I mean it,” he says. “She’s… so full of life. Curious and stubborn and funny. She’s got this little spark. You can feel it.”
“She’s also got peanut butter in her hair half the time and refuses to wear socks that match,” I say.
“That too,” he says with a low laugh. “But I’m serious, Tiff. She’s amazing, and it’s all because of you.”
I draw in a breath, caught off guard.
“You didn’t just keep her fed and safe,” he says. “You gave her joy, and security. You’ve helped her blossom into this beautiful little girl who has no clue what it means to be unwanted or unloved. She’s perfect, and I—I don’t know how you did it, but it’s kind of blowing my mind.”
My throat tightens. I set the pen down, suddenly unsure what to do with my hands. “I just did what anyone would do.”
“No.” He leans forward slightly, his voice soft. “You didn’t give up. Not for one second. You built a beautiful life for yourself and your daughter out of sheer willpower.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a good mom, Tiff. A damn good one.” I swallow hard, blinking down at the pages of my book. “And I’m so grateful that Ella’s had you this entire time.”
“Thank you,” I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t take all the credit. Without Zach, his parents, and my cousin, Madison, we wouldn’t be here.”
Jamie walks further into the room, leaning against the counter, his mouth twisting into a smirk. “Yeah, well... The Scholarship Kid’s kind of impossible to compete with.” He glances at me, then turns away. “I’m just hoping it’s not too late to do better.”
I swallow, letting the words settle for a second.
The silence stretches between us until all I can hear is the soft hum of the fridge. I don’t know what to say to that. Zach has been more than a cousin to me. He’s been a brother, and I can’t minimize his impact on my life without crushing Jamie.
Jamie glances at the table, then walks over and slides into the seat across from me. “What are you working on?”
Hesitating, I say, “Studying for my GED.” I can feel my cheeks flushing, knowing how pathetic it must sound. Everyone else around me is finishing their college degrees, but I’m still lagging behind.
His brows lift slightly, but there’s no judgment—just quiet curiosity. “Seriously?”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Didn’t finish high school. After my dad kicked me out in the middle of my junior year, I didn’t really have the time to keep up and graduate with everyone else. I’ve been chipping away at this for a while, but it’s slow.”
Jamie leans forward, placing his elbows on the table. “Can I help?”
I snort. “You want to help me study?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Come on. I’d love to.”
“I don’t need pity.”
“This isn’t pity,” he says, meeting my eyes. “It’s just me, offering. I might be terrible at throwing a ball, but I did graduate top of my class while burning my life to the ground. I can help. Let me.”
I stare at him for a beat. He looks serious. Sincere. Maybe even a little excited.
“You really want to help me with math?” I ask skeptically.
He grins. “Do you know how long it's been since I've solved for x? I miss it. I miss being useful.”
Something tightens in my chest at that.
“Fine,” I say, pushing the book toward him. “But if you start bragging about your SAT scores, I'm kicking you out.”
“No promises,” he murmurs, already scanning the page.
We spend the next hour hunched over the table, him walking me through formulas and showing me shortcuts I hadn't seen before.
He's annoyingly good at explaining things, breaking down problems I’ve never been able to solve in a way that makes me want to cry and hug him at the same time.
He doesn't rush me. Doesn't make me feel stupid.
Just waits and lets me get there on my own, nodding when I finally do.
Eventually, I solve a problem I've been stuck on for weeks, and he grins with pride.
“See?” he says. “You've got this.”
I shake my head, smiling despite myself. “Okay, tutor. Don't get cocky.”
He leans back in his chair and stretches, then looks at me with something softer in his expression. “You're doing it, Tiff. All of it. On your own.”
“Thanks,” I mumble softly.
His eyes flick to the kitchen table where my books are spread out, catching on a colorful flyer partially hidden beneath my GED workbook. Before I can stop him, he reaches for it.
“Salsa dancing?” he asks, eyebrows lifting as he examines the brochure.
Heat floods my cheeks as I snatch it back, shoving it under my textbook. “It's nothing. Just something Zach left out.”
“Zach wants to take salsa lessons?” He thinks about it for a second before smiling to himself. “I suppose he could use some help with his terrible footwork, but he’s predicted to be the top draft pick, so why bother now?”
“No. It’s for me,” I admit, ashamed.
“For you?” The amusement in his voice only makes my embarrassment worse.
“He says I need to 'get out more,'“ I explain, making air quotes with my fingers. “Do things that aren't just work, studying, and taking care of Ella. Be an actual human being occasionally.”
Jamie's expression shifts, his eyes going darker and his smirk dropping. “He's not entirely wrong.”
“Not you too,” I groan, burying my face in my hands.
“When was the last time you did something just for you?” he asks gently. “Something fun?”
I peek at him through my fingers. “I don't have time for fun.”
“Everyone has time for fun,” he counters, pulling the brochure back out. “Even single moms with GED exams to study for.”
“Right,” I say dryly. “I’ll just go and dance with some stranger while my daughter sleeps at home.”
“Or,” Jamie says, his voice casual though his eyes are anything but, “I could take you.”
I blink at him, certain I've misheard. “What?”
“To salsa dancing,” he clarifies, tapping the brochure. “I could take you. I'm not terrible at it, and I hope I’m little better company than a stranger.”
The image of Jamie in dance lessons, probably scowling the entire time, makes me smile despite myself. “You? Salsa dancing?”
He shrugs, a hint of color touching his cheeks. “Honey and I took classes when we were in middle school. Our mothers wanted us to salsa at our wedding.” He shakes his head, letting out a low huff of annoyance.
“I—” Words fail me. The idea of dancing with Jamie with his hand on my waist, moving together— “I can't. There's Ella, and—”
“I get it. I could always babysit instead,” he offers quickly. “You know, if you'd rather go with someone else… maybe Reese would take you. I haven’t seen much of his dancing skills, but he was pretty good out there on the field today.”
“Reese?” The mention of him catches me off guard.
“Yeah, you know, the guy who looks at you like no one else exists,” Jamie says, his tone suddenly tight. “He seems nice. Into you. Probably more respectable than to be seen with me.”
“Jamie—”
“I mean, I'd understand,” he continues, not quite meeting my eyes. “If you'd rather go with him. He's probably better company. Doesn't come with all my—complications.”
I stare at him, trying to process what's happening. Is he jealous? Of Reese?
“I don't want to go with Reese,” I say softly.
His eyes snap to mine. “No?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m not going to those classes.”
“Right. You don’t want to do them.”