22. Chapter 22
“So let me get this straight,” Madison says, looking equal parts impressed and appalled. “You went from salsa dancing with Reese to the bedroom bachata with Jamie in the same night, and I didn’t even get a text?”
I wince, folding Ella’s clothes upstairs while she hangs out with Zach in the playroom. “It literally happened last night. What did you want me to do? FaceTime you mid-thrust?”
She screws up her face in disgust on my phone. “Oh my God, Tiff! No. I don’t want that, but you could’ve texted me this morning. Maybe with something like: ‘Hey, just had the best sex of my life and it wasn’t with my date. Call you during laundry.’ That would’ve been enough.”
“I’m not texting you that.”
“Why not? I’ve texted worse.”
“I have boundaries, unlike you and your pizza-box-loving self.”
She doesn’t hide the grin on her face. “What can I say? Pizza boxes and danger are my things, but don’t try to change the subject.
We aren’t talking about me right now. We’re talking about the fact that you had sex with your baby daddy, who’s currently going for an interview because he wants to stick around. ”
“I know. I know,” I say more to myself than her. When she plays it back like that, it does sound insane. “It’s huge. I get it. That’s why I’m kind of freaking out about it.”
“Is it?” she asks with a cocked brow. “Huge?”
“I’m being serious Mads.”
“I am too. I know what huge feels like. I just want that for you.” When I glare at her with a frown, she stops smiling. “Okay. Okay, I’ll stop. I promise. I’m just teasing you because it’s nice to see you happy about something other than Ella for once.”
My smile falters a little.
I am happy, but the idea that it’s because of Jamie makes me feel a little nauseous.
“Earth to Tiff,” Madison says. “Please tell me you didn’t just zone out because you were picturing his abs.”
“What? No,” I say too quickly, heat creeping up my neck. “I was just—thinking about laundry.”
“Uh-huh,” Madison drawls. “Sure, ‘laundry.’ Is that what we’re calling it when someone leaves you with a full load?”
“You’re disgusting,” I say, tossing the pajamas over the phone so she can’t see me.
“Oh, come on. It was a lighthearted joke,” she says from underneath the fabric. I ignore her for a little bit. “Come on, Tiff. Let me out! I want to see you.”
I roll my eyes, take the top off, and put it in the laundry basket before picking up my phone and sitting on the end of the bed.
“What’s wrong, cuz?”
“I don’t know. It just feels like this could be too good to be true, you know?
This morning, I woke up to Ella yelling.
I ran to the door, already bracing myself for the mayhem—only to realize he was with her.
They were downstairs making Iced Out pancakes together, and it was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
” My eyes water just thinking about it. “She was sitting on the counter telling him what he was doing wrong, and he just nodded along, taking on her feedback.”
“Good. Glad to see he knows his place in the family hierarchy.”
I laugh a little at her comment.
“But it’s not just that. There were so many other things that happened.
He was writing notes on his phone, Mads.
He’d noted down her favorite juice, the stories she likes, the fact that she hates sandwich crusts, but only sometimes.
I don’t think he realized I saw, which made it even more endearing. ”
“Oh, Tiff,” she coos. “That man is not playing house. He’s trying to build one with you, and my romance-loving heart is already thinking of a ship name.
Jiff? Tamie?” She scrunches her nose. “You know what? I’ll keep working on it.
I need to make it something cute to match the two of you.
” Her eyes widen and she leans closer to the screen.
“Shit, am I Team Jamie now? Don’t tell Zach.
He’ll revoke my cousin privileges and convince you to stick me at the kids’ table at the wedding. ”
“You’re ridiculous,” I say, shaking my head. “A wedding? He just figured out Ella doesn’t like crusts. Let’s not skip to matching monograms.”
“Fine, fine,” Madison says with a laugh. “No monograms yet, but don’t act like you haven’t thought about it. I can see the smile on your face.”
“I don’t think we’re there yet.” I take a deep breath, pressing my palm against my chest. “He, uh, kind of told me he loved me last night.”
Madison takes a sharp inhale. “Hold up, back up, rewind,” she blurts. “He said he loves you, and you were just going to slide that in between pancake and laundry?!”
“I was getting there,” I protest weakly.
“When? After you sent out the wedding invites.”
“Stop talking about a wedding. It’s not going to happen.”
“Tiff! This is huge. Probably the biggest thing that happened to you last night.”
“Give me the details. How, when, where? I need to know.”
“During—when we were intimate.”
“Intimate? Tiff, I know you have a kid, but you aren’t a grandma. You can say sex every now and again, and it won’t be frowned upon.”
I roll my eyes, nodding. “I know.”
“So, he let it slip during sex. How did that make you feel?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
“Do you think he meant it?” she asks cautiously.
“Yeah, I do,” I admit, almost feeling ashamed.
“What did you say back? Or were you too busy screaming his name to notice?”
“Stop it,” I mutter. “I didn’t say anything back. I don’t know, it all feels a little too rushed, you know? How can he already know he loves me when we’ve barely spent any time together?”
“Sometimes you just know. I know I’ve admitted tons of things I wish I could take back with Dash.”
“I don’t think I’m there yet.”
“That’s okay. You’ve been through a lot. It makes sense. Did he get upset when you didn’t say it back?”
“No. He just kissed me.”
That’s the part that keeps replaying in my head.
“He stayed,” I add. “Even without hearing it back.”
Madison exhales. “Well, that’s huge. Are you happy about it?”
“I don’t know.” I bite my bottom lip, because I do know. I’m just too afraid to admit it out loud. “I'm scared, Madison. He’s saying and doing all the right things now, but what if he leaves?”
“Has he given you any indication that he's going to bail?”
“No,” I say quietly. “But that doesn't mean he won't.”
“Well, you can’t keep waiting for him to prove he won’t leave,” Madison says. “Love isn’t a hostage situation. At some point, you have to step into it without a backup plan.”
I frown. “It’s not like that.”
Madison snorts. “It’s exactly like that. You push people away before they can leave. Except for Zach. He’s got white knight syndrome so bad he’d probably try to save the Titanic with a bucket.”
“What if I'm not enough?” I ask so quietly, I’m not sure if she hears it. “What if Ella's not enough? What if he wakes up one day and realizes he gave up everything for a life that's just… ordinary?”
“Tiff.” Madison's voice is soft but insistent. “I get it. After what you’ve been through, it makes sense you’d be worried, but from what you've told me, but it sounds to me like ordinary is exactly what he wants.
He grew up with everything money could buy, but none of it made him happy.
You and Ella? You're not his consolation prize. When he finally got to make a choice for himself, he chose you.”
I swallow hard against the lump forming in my throat. “When did you get so wise?”
“Oh, I’ve always been this wise. You just never listened before.” She smirks. “But seriously, T—you need to be honest with him about how you’re feeling. Preferably when you’re both conscious and wearing pants. He deserves to know where your head is at.”
“You’re right. I’ll do it. I’ll speak to him.”
“Good,” Madison says softly. “You know, I’m really happy for you. You’ve been through so much, and you deserve this bliss. All of it. Even the kind that ruins your mascara and your back alignment.”
I laugh, because of course she’d end on something like that. “You’re the worst,” I say, even though my throat feels tight.
I do deserve happiness, but I won’t be able to feel it until I’ve told Jamie the truth.
That’s when I make a vow to myself that I will talk to him tonight.