26. Coraline
26
Coraline
I have to remind myself to breathe and act like a normal human being tonight. My stomach has been in knots just thinking about all that could go wrong.
I haven’t heard anything from Nash lately so that’s a plus. I think. He must be behaving for now.
I’m starting to think that he triggered my PTSD when he left me all of those voicemails the other day. I’ve been way more anxious and on edge ever since. I started having nightmares again too.
Jesse showed up about an hour ago and not only did he bring Harrison and Michael each a small gift, he brought me flowers too—peach-toned daisies, soft pink roses, and tiny white flowers are woven throughout the arrangement.
I don’t think he realizes how much it means to me. My stupid heart needs to calm down. Maybe he's just trying to set a good example for the kids? I need to stop reading into it.
Jesse’s been playing a racing game on the TV with Harrison and Michael for a while now.
Harrison, surprisingly, hasn’t stopped talking—he’s been chatting Jesse’s ear off the whole time they’ve been playing. Normally, he just glares at anyone who so much as looks in his direction, so this? This is excellent progress.
My heart feels a little lighter just watching them.
Lucy is laying beside Jesse and the kids on the floor. She let both of the boys waller her and attempt to rile her up. She's been an excellent dog this evening but, I have a feeling she always is.
I’ve tried my best not to hover but it’s hard not to. I've genuinely enjoyed being a fly on the wall and just being able to observe them interact. It helps ease my anxiety.
Jesse's made a point to include Michael just as much as he includes Harrison, something that Nash never did. It warms my heart to see both of my kids having so much fun. I could easily get used to this and that’s the part that scares me.
Harrison lets out a loud, joyful laugh when he beats Jesse in the race. Jesse throws his head back, laughing right along with him, and I don’t even try to hide the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
I’ve missed that sound—Harrison’s real laugh. I didn’t realize how much until it was gone. God, I just hope Jesse stays true to his word. I hope he sticks around, for the kids of course.
His eyes meet mine from across the room and soften. My mouth curves up into a smile. I swear it's like the entire room is charged with energy between us.
We hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, until the tension feels too tight in my chest. I look away first and start to fidget with my hands to distract myself.
The playdate is over, and I’m walking Jesse and Lucy out to the truck.
“I feel like that went fantastic!” I exclaim. “I haven’t seen both of my kids that excited or happy about something in a long time.”
“I think it went well too.” Jesse looks down at his feet, kicking a few pebbles as he speaks.
“Thanks again for the flowers, Jess,” I say, giving his shoulder a brief, friendly squeeze. His blue eyes catch mine, and my stomach flutters in that familiar, electric way.
I pull my hand back, needing to put a little space between us.
“You don’t have to thank me, Cora.” His voice is light, with a smug grin creeping onto his face. “I’m just glad I could buy a pretty girl something that makes her smile.”
He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing against my skin. I feel my cheeks heat, and I bite my bottom lip to steady myself. My heart races, thudding in my chest like it’s trying to break free.
His face is so close now, and he smells incredible. When did we get this close?
My mind starts spinning a thousand miles a minute, I’m terrified. If I let something rekindle between us, not only will he break my heart—but he could break theirs too.
I push the thoughts away, forcing myself to focus. I know I’m overthinking it, but I can’t help it.
He stares at my lips and then he looks back up at my eyes. I swear he’s leaning in, or did I imagine it? Nope, he’s definitely leaning in.
“Lucy!” Michael yells as he bursts out of the house.
I jump back a couple of steps, and so does Jesse. It feels like we’re two preteens caught by their parents, even though nothing happened. Just an awkward interruption by my son.
Michael is half-dressed—one shoe on, one shoe off, and already down to his boxers. “I forgot to give you a goodbye hug!” he says, wrapping Lucy in a vice grip. The poor dog just sits there, letting him shower her with affection.
“Alright, Michael,” I say, walking over to him. “Leave the poor girl alone. Let’s get inside and get ready for bed.”