4
Maeve
Present
“Fuck!” I screamed, stepping on one of Kelsie’s Legos littered on the ground.
“That’s a dollar for the swear jar,” she exclaimed and pointed at a small jar overflowing with dollars on the counter. I grumbled as I pulled a bill from my wallet and handed it to my six-year-old. She proudly walked over to the jar and deposited it.
“Dad is coming to pick you guys up, so please grab your backpacks with your work from Kinder.” I dug through the front closet to find her pink unicorn backpack way in the back of the overflowing closet.
“What about my work, Mommy?” my five-year-old, Kinsley, asked.
“Kelsie, go throw some papers and crayons in a backpack for Kins, please.” I looked around my house and cursed in my head yet again. After the divorce was finalized, I moved out of our fancy La Jolla house and was forced to live in my parents’ guesthouse. It had a small kitchen, one small bedroom, a bathroom, and a living area.
My parents have been amazing since the divorce. I had to start working at a brunch spot after I dropped off Kelsie at school and Kinsley at daycare in the mornings. It was the perfect job because I could pick them up in the afternoon. They offered to let us move in with them and made an entire little bedroom for the girls in the main house, giving me the space to unwind in the backyard. I always had a baby monitor on me, so if I needed to run in and grab them, I could.
My little guesthouse was an absolute mess. I wouldn’t say I have always been known for my organization, but since becoming a single parent and working full time, organizing isn’t my strong suit. In the midst of juggling work, parenting, and trying to keep our lives afloat, the state of my guesthouse continued to deteriorate. The lack of time and energy left me with little motivation to tackle the mounting clutter and disarray. Each day seemed like a never-ending cycle of exhaustion and overwhelming responsibilities. It wasn’t like it was dirty, just full of toys and clutter.
To make matters worse, my ex-husband, in an act of heartless spite, had kicked me out of our shared home with nothing to my name and quickly moved his boyfriend in. It was a painful blow, leaving me feeling betrayed, abandoned, and broke.
Despite the financial strain and the constant struggle to meet all the bills on my own, there was one glimmer of relief: Tyler continued to contribute to the girls' school expenses. It was the one area where he fulfilled his responsibilities, and for that, I was grateful. We also alternated every other week at each other’s houses. For the most part, our divorce was somewhat civil. I didn’t fight him for child support or alimony even though I knew I was entitled to it. However, the weight of all the other financial obligations was becoming increasingly overwhelming.
I relied heavily on the support and generosity of my parents, who had opened their doors and their hearts to shelter me and the girls during this challenging time. Their unwavering love and assistance helped alleviate some of my burdens. I was also grateful for my small group of friends. Tatum, Chelsea, and Gianna were always willing to step in if I was in a pickle.
We had all met working at the brunch spot, but I was the only one still there. Tatum was ten weeks pregnant with her first and working on finishing her debut novel. Chelsea lived in Sacramento with her fiancé, Alex, who happened to be Tatum’s husband’s brother. Gianna, who used to be known as Daphne, was married to Alex and Julian’s dad, Elio, and was about to give birth in the next couple of months.
Because of them, despite the chaos and uncertainty that defined my life at the moment, I clung to hope and resilience, determined to create a brighter future for my daughters and myself. Deep down, I knew this chapter of struggle would eventually give way to a new chapter of strength and triumph. I just somehow had to find my way to that spot.
I needed to focus on the task at hand… getting the girls ready for their dad and Stephen’s house. It was my only day off, and I wanted to finish cleaning once they left, so getting them out of the house was my main goal. Plus, it was already almost noon, and I was still in my pajamas.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the little door of the guesthouse.
“Daddy!” Kelsie and Kinsley both ran toward the door. I opened the door, and Tyler stood in a full navy suit. It was Saturday. The courts weren’t open, but I’m sure, as they always do, Tyler will be at work while Stephen watches the girls. Stephen was a full-time stay-at-home dog dad and stepdad, so he watched the girls every other week. There had been times that I wanted to pull him aside and say, “That was how he trapped me! Run!” But I was a bigger person…sometimes.
“What are you looking at?” I barked at Tyler while the girls were grabbing their backpacks I just had finished packing.
“The girls are getting older now, Maeve. You should probably start wearing a…” He trailed off, and I looked down at my shirt where my nipples were on full display underneath the very light cotton shirt.
“Fuck off,” I quipped. “We’re raising young girls who shouldn’t ever feel ashamed about natural body parts.”
He looked away and grabbed the two little girls' hands, leading them to his car.
“You need to really move into your own place,” he said, barely over a whisper. “This is embarrassing. If you cannot take care of the kids financially, I said Stephen would be happy to step in full time.”
This time, I stomped over to his car, and when he shut the door after buckling the two girls into their car seats, I glared in his direction.
“Do not ever fucking threaten to take my children away from me again and shove them off to your little stay-at-home pet.” I stormed away on my heels, not letting him see the tears threatening to form. I listened as the rumble of his car finally left the driveway.
Fuck, I needed to see my best friend. Sitting in this godforsaken quiet house and cleaning it all day while I mulled about my thoughts would only fuel the raging depression that threatened to explode inside my brain.
I quickly called Tatum, and she answered on the first ring.
“What are you doing?” I asked, forgoing the formalities. Tatum and I had connected naturally in our friendship group the quickest. She was the newest member of our group, and being a motherly figure, it was nice to take her under my wing.
“Hanging out at home. Are you good?”
“I need to come over,” I simply responded.
“Please! Tyler has the girls?” Yup, the tears were coming, and I had to take a centering breath before answering.
“He is such an asshole when he picks them up. I don’t know what went wrong. We went from having holiday dinners together in Aspen to fighting over weekly pickups or whether I have enough money for Kinsley’s soccer camp this year. No matter how hard I try, it always ends with Stephen being the perfect parent.”
“No, he did not.” The shock in her voice at my confession was evident.
“Where is she?” a voice in the background piped up.
“Who is that?” I asked.
“Sorry, you are on speaker because I’m currently puking. Julian, Christian, and James are here doing some work, so it was Christian.” Fuck. I had hoped the familiar voice wasn’t him.
Christian was a walking human god. His chest was large and thick. His shirts always pulled tightly against his chest. He had dirty-blond hair and thick stubble that sometimes could be considered a beard. He had piercing blue eyes similar to mine, but somehow his were always darker and…sadder. Man, though, he was messy, gorgeous, and ten years older than me.
He was Julian’s best friend and personal bodyguard, but I knew he worked closely with Julian on their business. Since Alex had been elected governor, the amount of laundering they were doing with gangs and Mafias through the government had exploded. We had figured out all of this when Tatum was kidnapped by her ex and taken to Mexico. Julian and Christian had to go rescue her.
While they weren’t actually brothers, they often referred to each other as “brothers.” Ironically, Christian moved into the casita that Tatum had once lived in. We were alike in the sense that we both lived on someone else’s property. That was the only way we were alike, though. To my mess, he was military trained and organized. To my bold loudness, he was an introvert. We were opposites in every way, and we never got along. Our friends hated putting us in the same room because we always went at it with each other.
“Tell him I don’t want him coming to get me. I will come there myself when he and James leave,” I barked through the phone.
“No can do. Julian has us working on surveillance, so we’ll be reviewing tapes for a minute. Tatum cannot pick you up.” I heard her heaving through the phone.
“And if you plan on driving, you’ll never actually make it out of your house, getting distracted by your mess.” I huffed. He had a point. I hated that he did. I was such an open book, and when I felt shitty, all I wanted was to be surrounded by my friends and family. Christian, on the other hand, was a closed book. I tried to ask him about his military service, and he gave me the quickest one-word answers. It drove me fucking insane.
“Fine. I’ll bring the leftover ginger chews I have from the girls,” I announced and then hung up.
I started to pick up the house because I knew I needed to do some cleaning before Christian came. He was twenty minutes away, so I had some time. I just needed to finish picking up the Legos. It wouldn’t take THAT long.