Chapter 38
ADAM
One week after Billie left, our dinner routine had grown into something of a ritual, with each of us assigned a specialized role.
I’d chosen spaghetti for the night. Andi was the appointed garlic bread spreader, I mixed the butter, garlic, parsley, and salt together, and she spread it out over a half a French loaf, it went in the oven and then we took it out the final two minutes and added cheese to the top before she cut it.
Joey was in charge of the salad, she washed the lettuce, cherry tomatoes, and cut the cucumber and bell peppers.
I surrendered the Bluetooth speaker to the girls, and now the vocal stylings of Dua Lipa filled the kitchen.
They both took turns recapping their day at school, but their stories always looped back to Billie in some way. “Ms. McDonald says we get four tickets to our spring concert in two weeks,” Joey announced. “Can Billie come? Can she wear her sparkly jacket?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, giving the noodles a stir and trying to keep my voice neutral. “It depends if she’s busy at work.”
I doubted Mrs. McDonald wanted to see Billie again.
Not after their last encounter. But I knew how much it would mean to the girls if she went.
I hadn’t spoken to Billie since she moved out.
Even though I knew it was for the best, it was killing me.
I actually felt weaker. More tired. Not because of the girls. They were no problem at all.
Especially compared to Luke and Leo next door. Those boys were wild. Joey and Andi would color for hours, or make charm bracelets, or read. They were angels. The boys never sat still. They were supercharged humans.
My exhaustion was emotional. I missed Billie. It felt like a part of me was missing. She was my other half. My phantom limb. I didn’t feel whole when she wasn’t around.
The first few days she was gone, I honestly thought I’d come down with the flu.
My body ached. I had headaches. I wanted to be in bed.
I had zero appetite. I even had them run blood work at physical therapy because I didn’t want to spread anything if I was contagious.
But nothing was wrong with me, physically.
It was all in my head. I felt like I was going through withdrawal symptoms. I was going through withdrawal symptoms. Billie Bliss withdrawal.
So the best thing to do was to go cold turkey. No contact.
Andi piped up from the kitchen table, where she was lining up Parmesan cheese shavings in neat, mouse-sized piles. “Maybe she can come to the conservatory with us on our field trip.”
“We’ll have to see.” I was fully aware of how evasive I sounded, I just wasn’t sure I should tell them she wasn’t going to be around anymore, at least not like they wanted. They didn’t have an all-access pass to her, not after they’d already lost so much.
“Can we FaceTime her tonight?” Joey asked. She’d abandoned her cutting board post and was now standing directly at my elbow, peering at the sauce.
“Not tonight, she’s working.” It was the excuse I’d made up four nights in a row. I was going to have to come up with something else soon, which would probably be having an honest conversation with them.
But not tonight. I could put it off for another day. Or two.
Dinnertime was more of the same, a minefield of Billie references.
Could we cook her zoodle recipe tomorrow?
Could we watch her favorite movie? What was her favorite movie?
Wasn’t it funny how she pronounced toilet, toe-let?
Didn’t she look like a real life Barbie doll?
By dessert, the ache in my chest had sharpened from longing to something closer to grief.
After baths and wrangling them into pajamas, Joey insisted on wearing her “ladyboss” pajamas that, you guessed it, Billie had bought, there was the nightly drama of brushing teeth and picking the right bedtime story. When it was finally quiet, I kissed them both on the top of the head.
“Do you miss Billie?” Joey asked, voice already heavy with sleep.
“Yeah, I do,” I answered honestly.
“I wish we could be a forever family with Billie.”
“I know.” I turned on the noise machine and their star night-light and whispered, “Me too.”
I headed out of the girls’ room and for the first time since she left, went into her room. I walked inside, and it still smelled like her. I inhaled deeply, and that’s when I saw it, sitting on top of the dresser. My mom’s ring.
My heart sank as I walked over and picked it up.
She’d left it here. Part of me understood why, but it still broke my heart a little that she didn’t have it.
I put it into the pocket of my sweatpants, feeling even more depressed than before, and padded down the stairs.
On the way, I was thinking maybe I’d grab a beer, put on SportsCenter, or even tackle the mountain of laundry that Billie had always nagged me to fold, anything to try to distract me.
I was halfway down when I heard it, three crisp, assertive knocks at the door.
Immediately, my heart did that thing where it leaps up and forgets it’s not supposed to hope. Billie? Had she forgotten something? Or maybe she missed us, too? I almost tripped over the last stair in my rush to the door and flung it open, adrenaline singing through my veins.
It was not Billie.
It was Genesis, her manicured fist still poised to strike the door again.
She looked good, better than I remembered, but in fairness, I hadn’t seen her in person in over two months.
Tonight, she was glowing. Her jet-black hair was pulled back into a perfect ponytail that highlighted high cheekbones.
Dark, thick lashes framed bright blue eyes which contrasted her flawless olive skin, and her lip-gloss emphasized her full, pouty mouth.
The khaki trench coat she wore over her form-fitting white tank top, and jeans was simple and casual, but she looked elegant, stunning, sexy, just breathtakingly beautiful.
I was so thrown, I just gawked for a second before finding words. “What are you doing here?”
Without waiting for an invitation, she swept inside, her perfume making my head spin. She breezed into the foyer, trailing her wheeled suitcase and a designer duffel. She dropped both, then threw her arms around my neck and kissed me.
It was a practiced, perfect kiss, like she was performing it for a movie. I just stood there, arms limp at my sides, letting it happen. She let go, blinked at me, just the faintest flash of disappointment passing across her features.
“You’re surprised to see me. In shock?” she said, tilting her head. Her tone was teasing, like she was already forgiving me for something.
“What are you doing here? You said—” I began.
She held up a hand, cutting me off. “I know what I said. I needed time to think. And I did. I thought a lot, Adam. I missed you.” She walked into the kitchen like she owned it.
Dazed, I closed the door, and as I moved her bags to the side, I felt the weight of them, they were filled with something more than clothes. Maybe regret, or old arguments, or the kind of baggage you inherit from years of trying to be the version of yourself someone else wants.
I trailed behind her and found she’d already helped herself to a bottle of still water and was leaning against the counter with her arms folded, watching me.
“I realized I overreacted,” she continued, not bothering to apologize.
“I mean, children? It’s not the ideal, obviously, but I can be flexible.
I’m a flexible person.” She sipped her water, eyeing me over the rim.
“I even looked into school options. I have found some amazing boarding schools for kids with challenges.”
My jaw flexed. “Challenges?”
She waved it away. “You know—transitions, trauma, whatever. They’re resilient. Kids bounce back.” She set the water down. “I was upset, Adam. I want you. I never wanted kids. But if you want to keep them, fine. We can make it work.”
“We?” I repeated.
She stepped closer. “Yes. I love you. You know that. I want a life together. A real one. I’m not going to let a couple of mistakes ruin everything we planned.”
“They’re not mistakes, they’re my daughters,” I said, amazed that I even had to clarify.
“Semantics.” She waved her hand dismissively then reached for mine, but I pulled it away before she could touch me.
“I’m not putting them in boarding school, Genesis,” I stated, voice low and steady.
Her smile didn’t budge. “No one said you had to. But if you want to give them opportunities, real opportunities, you know what we need to do.”
I shook my head. “I’m not moving to London.”
She shrugged, as if this was just a minor inconvenience, something she could work around. “Fine. We’ll do long distance. We already know it works.”
I looked at her, really looked at her, and wondered if she was even hearing herself.
She took another step, her hand resting lightly on my chest now. “Come on, Adam. This doesn’t have to be hard. I’ve already booked a table at The Water Grill tomorrow. Just us.” She smiled, softening her eyes. “Let’s start over.”
I searched her face, trying to find the woman I’d fallen for, a woman who had been, at one time, as wild and honest as Billie, but who’d swapped all that for ambition and image.
There was a time when I thought I was lucky to have her.
Now, standing in my kitchen, I felt like I was her prop for her brand, not her partner.
“You’re not listening to me.” I removed her hand from my chest.
She pouted, like a child denied a toy. “I am. You’re upset. But this is all an adjustment, for both of us.”
I folded my arms. “Why are you really here, Genesis?”
She blinked, surprised by the question. Then she laughed, as if I was the one whose behavior was odd. “What do you mean, why? I’m here for us.”
“Okay, what do you love about us?”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not, name one thing you love about us.”
I let the silence stretch. She didn’t like silence. She filled it, every time. When she couldn’t, it said something.
Her inability to respond force me to examine the reason.
“You’re scared of your image if we break up, aren’t you?” I said, with a sudden clarity that made the words taste metallic in my mouth.
She squared her shoulders, defensive now. “Don’t do that. Don’t make me the villain. You knew what this was. You knew what I did.”
“You need to go, Gen.”
“Adam, we don’t have to decide anything tonight. I’m here for a week.” She picked up my mail off the counter and started flipping through it, I grabbed it out of her hand. She used to go through my post all the time when I lived in Virginia. It never bothered me then, now it did.
“A week?" I repeated.
“Yes, I’m here on a shoot.” She started to walk to the couch.
“You’re not staying here.”
She froze. “What?”
“You can’t stay here.”
Genuine shock registered on her face. “Why not?”
“It will confuse the girls.”
“Confuse them how?”
“You need to leave.”
“You’re kicking me out?!” she raised her voice.
“Shh.”
“Don’t shush me.”
“You’ll wake up the girls.”
“Billie?” Joey called out from upstairs.
Fuck.
“No, sweetie,” I shouted up the stairs before instructing Genesis, “Stay here.”
She glared at me.
I found Joey coming down the steps holding her unicorn. “Is Billie here?”
“No, it’s daddy’s friend. She’s gonna leave in a few minutes. I’m sorry we woke you up. Go back to bed.” I ushered her back into her room and tucked her in, kissed her on top of her head. “Go back to sleep.”
I waited at the door for a few minutes after I closed it, just to make sure I didn’t hear her getting out of bed. When I came downstairs, I found Genesis sitting at the kitchen table.
“Gen, you need to leave. Now.”
“You’re married?”
“What?”
She was staring down at an opened envelope. I walked over and saw that Genesis had gone through my mail. Our marriage certificate had arrived today.
I tried to pick it up, but she grabbed it. I sighed. “You need to go.”
“You’ve been cheating on me, this whole time, and now you’re married?”
“I never cheated on you. And this is not what it looks like.”
Huge tears were in her eyes. “It looks like you’re married to Billie Joelle Bliss.”
As much as I didn’t want to explain myself, I didn’t actually want to hurt Genesis. I walked over and pulled out the documents from my lawyer and handed them to her. “I had to get married to get my inheritance. Billie was my neighbor—”
“Wait, you have an inheritance?”
“Yes, and a trust, and Billie lived next door growing up and she agreed to marry me so that I could have access to the money.” She read them as I explained more.
“We didn’t have a wedding. We haven’t told anyone.
We’re getting divorced after ninety days.
The girls don’t know. Her sisters don’t know.
The only people who know are you, now, and my lawyer. ”
Her eyes shot up to mine. “You swear you didn’t cheat on me?”
“I didn’t cheat on you.”
We didn’t sleep together until an hour after you broke up with me.
She sniffed. “I want to meet her.”
“No.” I grabbed the marriage certificate and the documents from my lawyer. “You need to go, Genesis.”
“I want to meet her,” she repeated.
“No. I haven’t even spoken to her in a week. Okay. She just did this as a favor for me. You and I aren’t even together. You’re not going to bother her.”
“Well, your daughters have obviously met her. One of them thought she was here.”
“And?” I didn’t see how that was relevant.
“Why can she meet them and not me?”
“Because she would never call them mistakes or suggest putting them in a boarding school.”
Her mouth opened then closed, then opened and then the tears were back. She stood up and pushed my chest. “You don’t have to be a dick.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. Just go, please.”
“But you’re not even giving me a chance. It’s not fair, they already know her, and you won’t even let me meet them.”
“This is not a competition. They are people. They are my daughters. You need to go.” I walked to the door, and thankfully, this time she followed.
She picked up her bags and walked out to the porch.
“Goodbye, Gen.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “This isn’t over.”
I shut the door. Yes, it is.