Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Delaney
I should’ve known volunteering for the zoo field trip meant spending the day herding a group of first graders who act like caffeinated squirrels.
“Two feet on the ground. We can’t climb the fence!” I call to Matty for the tenth time in five minutes. He’s going to end up being one of those stories where the kid falls in the exhibit with the gorillas.
Bennett chuckles beside me, holding a wrinkled map of the zoo. “Gotta have a sharp eye on Matty at all times.”
He looks far too good for someone surrounded by shrieking children and the smell of animal poop. His gray shirt strains along his biceps, and he’s wearing shorts and gym shoes. Sunglasses block his gorgeous brown eyes, but I still feel them on me every once in a while.
Meanwhile, I’m a mess who can’t stop sweating and heaving from making sure no kid gets out of my sight.
Wren’s skipping ahead, her pigtails bouncing. Leia walks beside her quietly, holding her zoo scavenger hunt sheet as if it’s the winning lottery ticket, wanting to make sure she turns it in and gets that prize she was promised, even though it’s probably nothing big.
We pass through the reptile house, and I walk in the middle of the aisle, avoiding getting close to any glass case.
Bennett comes alongside me. “Trying to pretend they aren’t there?”
He’s been cordial with me today, and I wonder if we can turn things around again.
“Aren’t you doing the same?”
“Hell yeah, I keep checking the ground to make sure one didn’t escape.”
I laugh, and his arm brushes along mine. I deny the pull to move closer to him.
“Delaney?” Wren says, voice shaky.
I look down.
She’s holding her stomach. “My stomach hurts.”
I crouch in front of her, Bennett right next to me. “What kind of hurt?”
She glances down, toeing the ground with her sneaker. “Like… sick.”
“You didn’t eat anything weird. Just snacks from home.” Bennett’s brow is furrowed.
I gently rub Wren’s back. “Sometimes when you’re excited or walking around a lot, your tummy acts up. Want to go outside with me and sit for a second?”
She nods, and I scoop her up in my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist.
“I can take her,” Bennett offers.
“Nah, I got this.” I smile playfully that I get to escape the reptile house, and he’ll have to stay with the kids.
“She’s my responsibility,” he says, holding his hands out to take Wren, but she lays her head on my shoulder.
“Oh no, they’re all our kids today. We’re the chaperones, so you get to watch Matty.” I pat his chest, laughing and walking away.
“Matty, stop banging on the glass!” Bennett calls right before I push the doors open, smiling to myself.
We find a quiet bench outside, and I pull a water bottle from my bag and hand it to her, brushing a damp strand of hair off her temple. “Slow sips, okay?”
Wren nods, blinking at me with watery eyes. “I don’t like being sick.”
“No one does, sweetie. But we’ll get you better soon.” I shift on the bench, letting Wren lean into my side. Without thinking, I rub slow circles on her back. “Just relax.”
Wren leans into me, the tension in her shoulders easing. Something that’s been coiled up tight for weeks in me loosens too.
“My grandma usually gives me ginger ale,” she says. “But I like this better.”
“I can get you some—”
Her arms tighten across my stomach. “No, I like the circles.”
“Okay then.”
I’ve almost dozed off when I hear Bennett’s voice telling the kids to stay together. When I look up, Bennett’s stopped and watching me. His jaw tenses, but his eyes are soft. As though he’s seeing something he’s not sure he should enjoy.
He breaks the distance, and Leia trails beside him.
“Is she okay?” she asks.
“Just a tummy ache.”
“Oh.” Leia frowns.
“It’s time for us to go anyway. We need to make our way to the bus.” Bennett checks his watch.
He picks up Wren with ease, and she lays limply in his arms. He whispers something to her, and she winds her legs and arms around him like a little koala bear.
“This leaves you in charge of the map.” He hands it to me.
We all fall in line toward the front entrance, stopping at the gift shop for everyone to turn in their scavenger maps and get their prizes.
Bennett and I wait at the side, Wren still fast asleep in his arms.
“Thank you,” he says, voice low.
“It’s nothing. I feel bad for her.” I run my hand down her back, and he watches the movement, then inhales a deep breath.
“She has a habit of over-exhausting herself. We couldn’t be more opposite in that way. You’d think she was Emmett’s sometimes.”
I smile and look at Wren’s angelic face. Without her big blue eyes open, you see more Bennett than Kristie. “Maybe it’s that nature versus nurture thing. She gets it from being around Emmett, not from her genes. But regardless, she’s amazing, Bennett. You’ve done a great job with her.”
We hold each other’s gaze, and the world of the shrieking kids and squawking birds fades away.
He steps closer, just enough that his knee brushes mine. His voice dips. “You’re really good with her.”
I feel that old, familiar pull. Gravity, like no matter how many years have passed or how many lies have been told, is dragging us together.
“I could say the same about you,” I whisper.
His eyes drop to my mouth, and my breath catches.
Then he blinks, and his expression is neutral as he steps back.
He nods, and his gaze searches out Leia. She has a toy in her hand and is turning in another form, pointing at Wren. Wren didn’t care about the scavenger hunt earlier, and I thought she had lost her sheet in exhibit two.
“You’ve done a good job too. Watching her take in the world around her, the way she doesn’t rush to react and… she’s something… special.”
“I’m sorry.” I’m guessing the guilt of keeping her from him will never go away.
“I know.” Our eyes meet, and I remove my hand from circling Wren’s back. “I know you are, Delaney.”
He might know I’m sorry, but he’s not understanding or forgiving me. I can’t blame him though.
Leia walks over holding small plastic figurines in her palm. “A butterfly for me and a flamingo for Wren.”
“You got Wren one?” I ask. “She didn’t have a sheet, did she?”
“I did both of them. She said she didn’t care, but I knew she would have when everyone was getting their prizes.” She shrugs and sandwiches herself between Bennett and me. “Is she okay?”
“She just has a tummy ache. She’ll probably feel better when she wakes up.” Bennett’s hand falls down to touch Leia’s back, but he hesitates for a second before he rubs his hand there. “Let’s get to the bus.”
I hang back with the other kids, watching Bennett holding Wren in his arms and Leia’s hand in his, and the familiar anxiety of being abandoned resurfaces. They’re a family. Blood will bind all three of them. Will we share holidays where he’ll have both of them, and I’ll be by myself?
Nausea washes over me as I imagine the future he once saw with me in it might now only be as a coparent and nothing more.