Chapter Twenty-One
Jess
Once Logan said okay, I honestly didn’t believe it.
After months of uncertainty, it feels surreal. Just yesterday I was browsing apartment listings. Today I’m standing in Simone’s living room, waiting for her and Darren to get home with their newborn.
I hadn’t planned on coming.
But Darren called late last night and asked me to be here. He said Simone needed me. And despite her jackassery these past few months, I couldn’t stay away.
Logan stayed home with the kids. His mom dropped the boys off early this morning. Things between the two of them felt frosty, even after she told me she was “happy to see me.”
The last few times I’d seen her, she’d been cold. Honestly, I’d expected that. I broke her son’s heart. As a mother myself, I wouldn’t have blamed her for calling me a whore.
Logan’s therapist wanted him to talk to his dad, not fight with his mom.
Not that it matters. He seems done with therapy altogether.
Individual. Marriage. All of it.
Last night he announced he no longer wants or needs it. It came wrapped in a mini lecture about how therapists use vague techniques to keep couples hooked.
I bit my tongue.
Orange Cove Therapy Center rarely has immediate openings.
But sure. They’re conspiring to trap us for profit.
Still, given the precarious position I’m in, I’ve chosen not to meddle. Not to push.
Would you look at that. Therapy actually works.
Someone tell my husband that.
A car pulling into the driveway snaps me out of my thoughts.
I grab the muffins, brownies, and cookies I baked and set them out on the counter. Then I fluff my hair and immediately throw my hands up at myself.
Why am I acting like I’m sixteen and my crush is coming over for a study date?
Trying to appear casual, I lean against the breakfast bar and wait for them to come inside.
Any other time, I’d be outside already, insisting on carrying the baby. But after how vague Darren was yesterday, I don’t want a yelling match or a crying session happening in the driveway.
The door opens.
It takes Simone less than a second to spot me standing awkwardly in her kitchen.
Her head snaps toward Darren, who’s carrying the car seat in his lap.
“What’s she doing here?” she hisses.
He shushes her immediately, gesturing toward the baby.
“Please,” Simone snaps. “If she didn’t wake up to you yelling at the student driver, she’s not going to wake up now.”
He grits his teeth. “You were the one who honked for twenty seconds.”
“You’d know about that,” she mutters under her breath.
My brows shoot up, and I can’t stop the smile that breaks across my face.
Simone catches it. For a split second, her eyes twinkle.
Then they narrow.
I narrow mine right back.
She looks shocked for a second before scowling. “Why is she here?”
“He called me and begged me to come help you,” I say.
“I’m not talking to you,” she fires back, holding up her palm. Then to Darren: “And you.”
“Thanks for that,” he mutters to me before turning to her. “You cried for an hour last night because you missed her. This silly little feud needs to end. Since neither of you will apologize-”
“Why would I apologize?” I cut in. “I didn’t do anything to her.”
“Yeah,” Simone shoots back. “You only do things to strangers in bars.”
My mouth drops open.
“You know what? I’m going to leave.”
“No, wait,” Darren says quickly, setting the car seat down beside the sofa. The baby, whose name I still don’t know, sleeps peacefully, completely unbothered by her mother’s cackling volume.
“Jess,” he says gently, “she misses you.” Then to Simone: “And honey, Jess is moving out and she could probably use her best friend.”
“Actually,” I say, raising my hand like a first grader before Simone can explode, “Logan and I made up. We’re good.”
“You are?” they both exclaim.
“Yup.” I nod. “We talked. Logan forgave me.”
“Just like that?” Simone says skeptically.
“What?” Darren adds at the same time.
I keep nodding. “Yeah. I totally believe him.”
My voice comes out less confident than I’d like.
Simone’s eyes soften just slightly.
Darren, on the other hand, studies me carefully.
“So,” I say, clearing my throat, “can I at least look at the child before I go, or are you going to throw holy water at me?”
“You can look,” Darren answers quickly before Simone can say no. “I’m gonna put these in the nursery.” He grabs the bags from the counter and wheels off, completely missing the death glare his wife throws at his back.
I, however, know better.
I slowly raise my eyes to Simone.
She rolls hers dramatically, but after a second, she nods, still scowling and lowers herself onto the sectional.
“Don’t wake her,” she mutters.
“I raised two,” I remind her.
“I raised two,” she does a horrible mimic of my answer.
I step closer and gently peel back the blanket covering the car seat.
Inside is the tiniest little face, fast asleep.
I’d love to say she looks angelic. Ethereal.
Alas she looks like a potato. A very small, slightly wrinkled potato.
Just like my boys did.
I’m still leaning over her when her face scrunches. I don’t know if it’s the shift in light or the sudden silence, but her mouth opens-
And she lets out a loud, newborn wail.
My eyes swing to Simone just as she throws a hand in the air. “Unbelievable.”
I shrug. “I didn’t even touch her.”
She gestures sharply with her hand. “You woke her. Now pick her up.”
“Really?” I ask, making sure I heard her right.
“Just do it.”
“Hi baby, whose name I don’t know,” I baby talk, sliding my hand under her butt.
Simone narrows her eyes when I straighten. “You know you’re not supposed to do that.”
“What?” I mutter. “Breathe.”
“Baby talk,” Simone deadpans. “It’s bad for their development.”
I give her a tight smile. “I baby-talked to both of my kids.”
She smirks. “And which one of them barked until he was two?”
“Still your godchild,” I say, offended.
“Sorry,” she winces, and there’s real regret in it. Then her eyes drop to the way I’m gently bouncing her daughter in my arms.
“Her name’s Penny, by the way.”
I blink. “Penny?”
“Penelope,” she clarifies.
My chest tightens just slightly.
Penelope was the name I’d always said I’d give a daughter. After River was born, I’d laughed and told Simone she could steal it if she ever had a girl.
“Don’t be flattered,” Simone says quickly, holding her hands out for the baby. “I just liked the name.”
I carefully pass Penny back to her, trying to ignore the strange, tender ache in my chest.
“Sure you did,” I murmur.
Simone narrows her eyes at me, but there’s warmth there now.
“How are we doing in here?” Darren asks carefully as he rolls back into the room.
“She just called me a bitch,” Simone says calmly.
I open my mouth to protest, but she lifts a brow to silence me. The corner of her mouth twitches, and I realize she’s baiting him.
Catching on, I shrug and play along. “Well,” I say lightly, “you are.”
Darren looks between us carefully. “In a good way?” he asks, hopeful.
Simone rolls her eyes giving up. “Thanks for butting in. I guess I did miss her.”
Darren shifts his attention to me. “So does this mean I can go interrogate my brother now?”
“It’s fine,” Simone answers for me before I can speak.
I bite my lip, tempted to ask him to tell Logan to go back to Dr. Brett. The urge sits on my tongue, but I swallow it. It feels like overstepping. Logan chose me. I can’t start managing him now.
So, I stay quiet and watch Darren leave.
“He really forgave you?” Simone asks once his car pulls away.
“He says he did.” I drop down onto the sectional, suddenly tired.
“You don’t believe him?”
“It’s not that,” I say slowly. “It just feels fragile. Like one wrong move and it’ll shatter. I mean…” I glance at her. “You’re still pissed at me. How could he not be?”
Simone adjusts Penny against her shoulder and begins gently patting her back. “I’m not pissed about what happened,” she says. “I’m pissed that you lied to me. I was worried about you. And the whole time you were looking me in the eye and letting me believe something that wasn’t true.”
Guilt tightens in my chest.
“Once I calmed down,” she continues, “I didn’t know how to apologize. I didn’t want to admit I’d made it about me.”
“You still haven’t,” I point out quietly.
She gives me a look just as Penny lets out a loud, impressive burp.
I can’t help it, I laugh.
“How about this,” I say gently, reaching for the baby. “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”
Simone hesitates for a beat, then carefully transfers Penny into my arms.
“Only if you put her in the nursery,” she says. “And don’t wake her.”
I grin, already heading down the hallway.
“Best deal I’ve had all week.”