Chapter 19 #2
“But,” Hallie says, giving my daughter a bit of a side-eye.
She rolls her eyes, and I want to tell her to drop the attitude, but it seems Hallie has some balance of her own on what she calls out and doesn’t.
“But like I said, when he texted that he would be late, there’s a chance your dad wants you to go to bed.
” Emma opens her mouth, but Hallie keeps talking.
“And like we talked about and like you agreed to thirty minutes ago, if that’s the case, we will save it for tomorrow night. ”
There’s a mini staredown between Hallie and Emma before my daughter turns to me, her face sweet as the cake sitting on the dining room table, as she smiles up at me.
“Daddy, can we please eat cake tonight?”
I hold it in for all of ten seconds as I stare at Emma, whose eyes are comically wide, her hands slapped beneath her chin like a caricature of someone who is well-behaved. I let out a loud laugh soon, though, shaking my head and scrubbing a hand over her hair.
“Dad!” Emma whines as I walk away, moving to the kitchen to open a drawer where the lighter is, then turning to the girls with it in the air.
“Do we need candles for a half-birthday cake?” There’s a squeal of excitement and a yes! from the dining room, and I can’t help but laugh. I might be bone tired, but somehow a slice of cake with my two favorite girls feels like exactly what I need right now.
“What were you guys watching?” I ask an hour later as I sink into the couch beside Hallie after getting Emma to bed. A movie is paused, with a familiar set of actors I can’t quite place on the screen, but it looks much older than anything Emma enjoys watching.
Hallie laughs, then shakes her head. “I found out today your daughter has never seen the classics.”
I lift an eyebrow at her. “The classics?”
“Mary-Kate and Ashley movies.”
I blink at her, then let out a laugh. “I don’t know if those are considered classics.”
“Excuse me, they absolutely are. Wren and I watched them a million times. Hell, one year we made an entire vision board based on them,” she says with an amused laugh. “We made this whole plan, basically Around the World in 80 Days, but with Mary-Kate and Ashley.”
I wonder momentarily if it’s in that pink box with the rest of her vision boards.
“You know, I remember Wren loving them, but I don’t think I ever watched one.”
She looks at me, her jaw dropping and her eyes wide. “You’ve never seen one?”
“Hallie, in what universe would I have watched a Mary-Kate and Ashley movie?”
“You have a little sister. You have a daughter!”
“My sister is five years younger than me, and I hate to tell you, Hal, but kids these days aren’t sitting around watching Mary-Kate and Ashley movies.”
“Maybe it would solve a lot of the youths’ issues if they did.”
“Did you just say the youths?”
She rolls her eyes at me, then reaches for the remote.
“Okay, which one do you want to watch first? We’re going to start your education now.
Honestly, it should be a required watch for girl dads.
” She expects me to argue, raising an eyebrow at me, anticipating the impending challenge, but I just sit back and smile.
No way am I missing out on an opportunity to sit with her for two hours.
“Whichever you suggest.”
Ninety minutes later, after watching blond twins evading mobsters in Australia, the credits are rolling, and a yawn escapes Hallie’s lips. She sighs, sitting up from her slouched position on the couch, and turns to me, biting her lip. “I should get home.”
“You could stay here,” I murmur without thinking, but don’t take it back. Her eyes scan my face, looking for jokes or maybe waiting for me to take it back, but I don’t.
Each day, I become more and more deluded in my thoughts of Hallie. More and more lost in the idea of her, of having her, I almost can’t remember why I decided I couldn’t in the first place.
After a moment, she stands up, gives me a soft, tired smile that makes me want to kiss her, and shakes her head, yawning again.
“No, I shouldn’t. My house isn’t too far.”
For the first time, I regret her living so close, if only because if she didn’t, I might be able to convince her to stay tonight, to sleep in my bed. Even if I took the couch, I’d get the perk of my sheets smelling like her again, the scent having faded two days ago.
Knowing there’s no use in arguing, I stand and follow her to the mudroom, where she slips on her shoes, and I’m grateful I spent a few extra minutes slating and plowing the path to her place.
We stand in the mudroom, and after she slips her jacket on, she tugs a dark green Three Kings beanie over her head, and suddenly, an unignorable thought slams through me: I want to kiss her.
So fucking badly.
I take a step closer without thinking, closing the gap between us until it’s barely a foot.
My eyes move from hers to her full, pink lips, and they part, a tiny breath leaving.
When my eyes move back to hers, I see it there: that wall is down, one I didn’t realize she had erected sometime between Saturday night and Sunday afternoon.
Need.
Want.
Disappointment.
That’s when I realize I’m not the only one struggling. Hallie is facing the same problem I am; she’s just far better at burying it than I seem to be.
She wants me to kiss her as much as I want to kiss her.
With that knowledge, I almost do it.
I almost lean in, nearly pull her into me. My hand reaches out with a mind of its own to grab her hip and pull her into me, but then she shifts, looking away, tugging her full bottom lip into her mouth and biting down on it.
“Oh, uh, remember, I won’t be here for dinner tomorrow,” she says, and the moment is broken.
“What?” I ask, confused. The only thing keeping me going these days is knowing I’ll get her at night and get to steal these precious moments with her.
“I’m going to The Mill,” she whispers, apology in the words, and I know why instantly. She’s going back out with that fucking guy.
“Oh, yeah, of course. No problem,” I lie. “I can also get her off the bus if you’d like.”
She shakes her head. “No need, just wanted to remind you. I probably won’t be making dinner, since I won’t have time to help her finish.”
I shake my head, waving a hand as if it’s really no big deal, then tuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans to avoid doing something incredibly fucking stupid.
“All good,” is all I can say, and she stares for a moment before nodding.
“Okay, well…night, Jesse,” she says, stepping back and heading out the door.
I wait by my phone for her to text me, staring at it like a madman. When it dings minutes later, I jump and read the message.
Made it home! Night, Jesse. I had fun tonight.
I smile at the message before getting ready for bed. The sheets no longer smell like her when I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, long past when I should be asleep.
I tell myself I won’t do it.
I tell myself I’ll let her live her life and stick to the plan.
But the next morning, I still find myself texting Madden and asking if he wants to get drinks that night.