Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
TIMBER
Amanda stands there with effortless grace, somehow making old jeans and a man’s suit shirt, tied neatly at her waist, look like they belong on a runway. The casual outfit, meant to be simple, on her looks intentionally stylish, her sandy blonde hair perfectly tousled as if she's just stepped out of a fashion magazine’s “effortlessly chic” spread.
I catch myself stealing a glance down at my own attire—comfortable, practical clothes that now seem plain next to her curated casual look. My curves, which I usually embrace, are overly pronounced, and so different from her lithe figure. I’m suddenly self-conscious, the familiar weight of insecurity settling in my stomach like stones.
“Hailey, sweetie, come to Mommy!” Amanda calls out with a tone that seems both heartfelt and rehearsed.
But Hailey doesn’t move toward her. Instead, she tightens her grip on my hand and ducks behind my legs. Her little body pressed against mine sends a wave of protective affection through me, mingled with a spike of anxiety. I wonder, will Hailey’s reluctance reflect badly on me in Amanda's eyes? Does she see me as an obstacle?
I glance down at Hailey, whose eyes are wide with a mix of confusion and caution. I try to offer her reassurance, but my nerves are frayed.
“It’s okay,” I whisper down to her, as her fingers clutch at me. Her response is to cling even tighter, seeking comfort in the familiar.
Amanda’s smile wavers as she watches this interaction, then quickly recovers. She straightens and, with a quick, confident step, approaches Kane.
She kisses his cheek as if she had never been away, treating it like the most natural thing in the world to do. The others pause, but Amanda doesn't seem to notice their reaction. She greets Kane warmly, lingering just a moment with her hand on his arm, showing how comfortable she is with him.
“It's good to see you,” she says cheerfully, her demeanor relaxed and familiar. Watching them, I’m uncomfortable. They have a past that doesn't include me. The others look on, exchanging glances, clearly sensing the change in the air but saying nothing. Amanda's friendly manner, however, leaves an undertone of tension.
“You could have called,” Kane says.
“I never do. You always liked my unpredictability.”
“That was before you gifted me with a child and left. ”
Amanda rolls her eyes. “It’s been years, Kane. Let it go.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t and I won’t.”
Amanda then turns her attention to me, her gaze curious yet measured. "And you are?" she asks, her tone friendly but with a hint of surprise. The way her eyes scan me makes it clear she's trying to place me in the context of her daughter's life—a puzzle piece she hadn't expected to find.
“I’m Timber,” I say. My voice is steady despite the churn of emotions inside me. “I've been ... helping out with Hailey.”
“Helping out?” Amanda echoes, a slight tilt of her head suggesting she's piecing together the information. Her look is not unkind, but it's analytical, as if she's reassessing the scene before her based on this new data.
“Yes,” I continue. Hailey's grip tightens further, a plea for security in the midst of uncertainty. “I’ve been filling in temporarily for Eliza since she had Cody.”
The mention of Eliza’s baby doesn’t seem to register with Amanda. She doesn’t even look to see the baby Eliza is holding.
"Timber belongs here," Kane says. His tone is brusque yet protective, leaving little room for doubt. He glances my way, trying to reassure me. Despite his efforts, a sudden mix of emotions—jealousy and insecurity—unsettles me.
Kane clears his throat, gently pulling away from Amanda's lingering touch. “You've actually walked into a family send-off,” he informs her, his voice carrying a hint of firmness.
Amanda's brows lift in mild surprise. “Oh, I see. Then, I'll catch up with you at home later,” she responds casually, assuming that the familiarity of their past gives her the same privileges as before.
Kane shakes his head, the lines of his face hardening. “You can’t stay there, Amanda. It’s not just my place anymore.”
“Why not?” Amanda’s voice sharpens. “Hailey is there, and I’m her mother. I need to be by my daughter.”
From the side, I watch the exchange, a knot tightening in my stomach. The way Amanda asserts her role strikes a nerve, reminding me of the temporary nature of my own position within this new family dynamic. How much I'll miss being part of this household tugs at my thoughts. Even though Kane is not welcoming her with open arms, I wonder if in my absence they will bridge this gap between them. Maybe it would be good for Hailey, I tell myself, trying to find consolation in the possibility.
Kane looks visibly conflicted, his eyes flicking toward me briefly before returning to Amanda. “Things have changed, Amanda. We need to talk about arrangements that work for everyone. You can’t assume things will go back to how they were.”
The tension between them hangs in the air, and I'm both protective of our shared life with Hailey and deeply anxious about the impact of Amanda's return .
Kane turns to Finn. “You got any space in your cabins?” he asks.
Finn rubs the back of his neck, looking apologetic. “Not for a few weeks,” he responds, his tone indicating he wishes he could do more.
Kane scans the faces of his family, pleading for help. It’s Eliza who speaks up, her voice gentle but firm. “Amanda, you could stay with us for a few days. We've got the room.”
A wave of relief washes over me at Eliza's offer. The thought of Amanda staying with us makes my stomach roil but knowing there’s another option eases some of the tension.
Amanda’s face contorts. “Thanks, but I really don't like ki—” She cuts herself off abruptly. “I mean, babies.” The words hang awkwardly in the air, and she quickly waves off the offer. “But thank you.”
I glance down at Hailey, who has stayed unusually close during the exchange, her small hand clutching my sleeve.
Bending slightly, I whisper, “You okay, Hailey?”
Hailey nods, but she doesn’t let go of my sleeve.
Amanda, seemingly oblivious to her child's discomfort, brightens considerably as she turns back to Hailey. “Hey, sweetie, when you get home, I've got presents for you,” she says, her voice lifting in a cheerful lilt.
At the mention of presents, Hailey peeks out from behind my legs, her earlier apprehension replaced by the gleam of curiosity typical of a five-year-old. “Presents?” she asks .
“Yes, lots of fun stuff!” Amanda assures her, then turns to the rest of us. “I'm just exhausted from the trip. I really need a nap,” she announces and walks away as if it’s all settled. And maybe it is because no one stops her. But if Amanda is staying at the house, where does that leave me?
I'm compelled to offer a solution. “Eliza, maybe I should stay with you,” I suggest, trying to sound as helpful as possible. “I can help with the baby. It might make things easier for everyone.” I glance at Kane who is shaking his head.
“No, Timber, you belong with me,” he says, leaving no room for argument. “We’ll figure it out.”
A whirlwind of thoughts races through my mind. What does “figuring it out” really mean? I know he’s in a tough spot, caught between past commitments and current realities, and I don’t want to add to his stress. I nod, happy for his decision, but I feel a heaviness with the implications of what lies ahead. Amanda’s return has stirred up a storm of uncertainty, and I question the universe’s intentions.
I see the road ahead, fraught with challenges and tension.
As the time comes to say goodbye to Matt, the farewells are filled with hugs and well-wishes, but also a sense of loss. Eliza, teary-eyed after hugging Matt, turns to me with an open, earnest expression. “If things get to be too much, you’re welcome at my place, anytime,” she whispers, giving me a tight squeeze.
I’m touched by her kindness and the safety net she offers is like a ray of hope in a suddenly uncertain future. “Thank you, Eliza. That means a lot,” I say, my voice thick with gratitude.
I find myself reflecting on the life I’ve come to cherish at Kane’s. The joy of our days together, the laughter of Hailey that fills the rooms, the peace of knowing I belong somewhere—it’s been close to perfect. But with Amanda’s return, the perfect little world we’ve built is about to change. I'm left wondering how much of that tranquility we can preserve, or if I’ll need to consider taking Eliza up on her offer sooner than I’d like.
We wait until the plane is a mere speck on the horizon and we know Eliza will be okay.
In the ATV, Kane, Hailey, and I make our way along the path that leads back home, with Hailey blissfully unaware of the grown-up complexities swirling around her.
Hailey sits in the back. She chatters away about everything from the bumpy ride to the butterflies she spotted earlier.
Kane's knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel, his eyes fixed ahead. He leans in close to me, his voice low. “Operation Home Front might encounter some ... unexpected weather,” he says.
“You think?” I stifle a chuckle, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. “Do we have a storm shelter prepared?” I ask, playing along with our coded conversation.
Kane nods solemnly. “We might need to reinforce the walls. Maybe build a new addition,” he says, implying the need to accommodate Amanda without disrupting our current family dynamics too much.
“What about the chicken coop?” I suggest.
Kane laughs. “It would never work. Animal rights activist. She’d set them free.”
Hailey, catching only bits of our conversation, looks at us with a puzzled frown. “Are we getting a new room? Can it be purple?”
I exchange a quick, amused glance with Kane. “Well, we might consider some new paint,” I tell her, grateful for her innocent interruption.
“And maybe some sparkles?” Hailey suggests enthusiastically, completely oblivious to the actual topic at hand.
“Definitely sparkles,” Kane agrees, his tone serious, but his eyes laughing.
“Sparkles that can withstand all kinds of weather,” I add, ensuring our “code” remains intact.
Hailey nods, satisfied with our plans for hypothetical renovations.
As we pull into the driveway, Hailey unbuckles and jumps off the ATV first, excited and bursting with energy, racing toward the house. Kane and I follow more slowly. I steel myself for what lies ahead.
“I’m sorry,” Kane says. “I should have set boundaries, but I didn’t expect this.”
I’m not sure what he means by “this.” Is it Amanda showing up, or the emotions between us? We enter the house, and everything looks normal, but the air is different—heavier. Hailey calls out, “Mommy?” and we hear movement from down the hallway .
“Stay here,” Kane says quietly as he walks away. I listen, hearing muffled voices.
After a few minutes, Kane comes back, looking tense. “She’s in my bed like she belongs there.”
A cold wave of shock washes over me, but I force myself to stay calm. I think about Amanda being in his bed. The image stabs at my heart. I want to scream, to demand she leave, to make it clear that she no longer belongs here. But I know I can’t give in to those emotions. Instead, I steel myself, taking a deep breath and clenching my fists at my sides.
What does this mean for us? The questions swirl in my mind. I fear this will complicate everything, that Amanda’s presence will resurrect old feelings and create a rift between Kane and me. But I also fear looking weak, like I’m not strong enough to stand my ground.
I meet Kane’s eyes, trying to mask my turmoil. “Let her stay there. You aren’t sleeping there, anyway.” My voice comes out steadier than I expect. Inside, I’m imagining the worst—Amanda trying to reclaim her place in Kane’s life.
As Kane walks away, the weight of the situation presses down on me. My mind is a storm of conflicting emotions. I know I was supposed to leave after the summer, that this was meant to be temporary. But somewhere inside, I want to stay. Kane said I belonged here with him, but was that just a statement for now, or did it mean something more? Was he thinking of a future with me, or was he simply trying to manage the chaos of the moment ?
My thoughts spiral back to my past. My husband left me, and the wound is still fresh. Now, faced with Amanda’s unexpected return, old insecurities resurface.
I fear history repeating itself, losing Kane to someone who fits better into his past and maybe his future.
But then it hits me, like a bolt of lightning—I’ve spent so much time trying to be enough for others, to be wanted and needed. All I ever wanted was for someone to want me and only me. To choose me, not because of what I could give them, but because of who I am.
The tears well up, but I blink them away. I can’t show weakness, not now.
A few minutes later, Amanda arrives wearing nothing but my favorite flannel shirt of Kane’s. The sight of her in his shirt is like a punch to the gut. Seeing her in it, so casually claiming something so personal, stirs a storm of emotions within me.
My mind races, anger and jealousy bubbling up, battling with my resolve to stay calm. I clench my fists at my sides, struggling to maintain my composure. Amanda's audacity is infuriating, and the way she flaunts her presence is like a deliberate challenge. My chest tightens. This isn’t just about a shirt—it’s about territory, about boundaries that are blurred and violated. And yet, this isn’t my house. It’s Kane's job to set those boundaries. And Kane, is he mine?
Before anyone responds, Amanda calls Hailey from the living room where she was watching cartoons. “Hailey, sweetie, look what I brought you!” she says, holding out a package for Hailey to see .
Hailey's eyes widen with excitement as she looks at the present, but her excitement quickly fades when she sees what's inside—a set of jumbo building blocks. She frowns. "Those are for babies," she says, her disappointment evident.
Amanda’s smile tightens. “But I thought you’d like them.”
Hailey looks up at me, seeking my reaction. “Why don’t you thank your mom, Hailey? It was very nice of her to bring you a present.”
Hailey hesitates but then mutters, “Thank you, Mommy,” before turning back to me. “Can we go play with the sparkles now?”
I shake my head. “In a few minutes. Why don’t you finish your cartoons first.” Hailey happily skips away.
Kane shakes his head. “Amanda, we need to set some boundaries,” he says. “You don’t belong in my bed or my clothes.”
Relief floods through me, mingling with an unexpected sense of validation. Kane is choosing me, asserting our relationship in front of Amanda. But almost immediately, doubt creeps in. Is this just a passing defense, or does it signal something deeper?
She sighs and brushes her hair back. “I didn't think it would be such a big deal.” She looks at me. “Aren’t you temporary?”
I stand there, speechless. Amanda’s words pierce the fragile bubble of relief, bringing back the nagging uncertainty about my place here. I am like a ping pong ball, bouncing between moments of clarity and confusion, security and doubt.
Kane claimed I’m more than just help, but what does that even mean? More than help but less than a partner? His words felt comforting in the moment, yet they lack a clear definition.
I hate being at the mercy of someone else’s decisions. The fear of losing Kane is gnawing at me, growing with each passing moment. Seeing Amanda here, so comfortable and confident, makes that fear seem more real than ever. What if Kane realizes he still cares for her? What if I’m just a temporary distraction in his life?
The thought of losing him to Amanda, of being pushed aside again, is almost unbearable.
Needing to escape the tension, I get Hailey and lead her out of the room. “Let’s find those sparkles now,” I say.
Walking down the hall to my room, I replay Amanda’s words in my mind. “Aren’t you temporary?” It’s not what I want, but the truth is I am temporary.