Ivy
Hampton, Virginia
“Kyler, I don’t think you realize—”
And now he’s wearing it in my kitchen over preschool enrollment.
My fingers curl into fists, more to ground myself than to fight.
Because the worst part isn’t the argument.
The worst part is the way he’s standing there, like some carved-out statue come to life.
His muscular arms are crossed over his chest, left arm painted in colorful tattoos.
A black T-shirt is stretched across a torso I still see in my dreams. His jaw is sharp, unshaven.
Hair regulation-short but still messy, like he ran a hand through it in frustration.
And his eyes—dark brown, piercing, frustratingly beautiful—are locked on mine like I’m a puzzle he still intends to solve.
It makes me angry. How attractive he still is. How my pulse still jumps when he steps closer. How my stomach flips like I’m twenty again in that nameless bar in North Carolina.
“You can’t just bulldoze me,” I snap. “We’re not married anymore, remember? You don’t get to make unilateral decisions.”
He flinches, just barely. A muscle tics in his jaw. “I have never made unilateral decisions for our family. And trust me,I know we’re not married, Ivy.”
Good. I want him to feel that.
“Then act like it,” I say, my voice lower. “You don’t get to throw my life into upheaval and then pop in barking orders like we’re still playing house.”
“I’m not barking orders. I’m protecting our daughter.” He takes a breath, like he’s trying not to lose his temper. “You know what being on base offers. Secure entry. Real-time alerts if there’s a breach. The CDC preschool has DoD-trained teachers, full oversight. If anything happens—”
“She’s not a mission, Kyler!” I yell. “She’s not some op you need to plan around. She’s three. She loves her school. She has friends. Teachers who know her. Stability.”
“And she’ll have all of that on base,” he says, quieter now. “But with more protection.”
I shake my head, because it’s too much. His presence. His reasoning. The way my body still remembers everything about him even though my heart isn’t supposed to.
“You left, Ky.” My voice barely scrapes out. “You’re the one who asked for the divorce.”
He starts to say something, but I barrel past it, hands trembling as I twist my blonde hair into a low bun just to keep them busy, because my heart is anything but.
“And now you’re back living under my roof because there’s some shadow threat hanging over me that might turn out to be nothing.” I laugh, but it’s brittle, sharp at the edges. “And you know what the worst part is?”
He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t move. Just watches me like the words are already slicing him open.
“I still want you,” I whisper. “God help me, I still want you. And I can’t. I can’t want you, because do you know what’s worse than needing someone you can’t have?”
I meet his eyes because if I’m going down, he’s coming with me.
“It’s knowing they had you...and still didn’t want to stay.”
That does it. His expression softens just for a second, like I cracked something in him. But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.
The silence stretches.
“I’ll think about the preschool,” I say finally, swallowing hard. “But you don’t get to make that call without me.”
He nods once. “That’s fair.”
This is anything but fair.
I move past him toward the fridge, needing space, needing something to do with my hands so I don’t slip them under his shirt and trace the muscles I know by heart like my body’s begging me to.
“I’ll let you know what I decide,” I mutter, pulling out two bottles of water and shutting the door harder than necessary. I set one on the counter beside him, then twist the cap off mine and gulp down half of it.
I put the bottle down and attempt to move back around him.
“Do you still want me?” he asks, quiet. Low. The kind of voice that used to make me drop everything and follow him upstairs without a word.
I freeze. “Don’t,” I whisper, but my voice lacks conviction.
“Baby…” His hand comes up slowly—he’s always been careful with me, like he knows exactly how to handle my fire without putting it out. His fingers brush a piece of hair behind my ear, then linger along my jaw. “You think I left because I didn’t want you?”
I swallow. “You did leave.”
“I left because I didn’t know how to stay without hurting you and Hadley.” His voice drops another octave, raw now. “But I never stopped loving you. That didn’t go anywhere.”
My breath catches. My heart thunders. My knees nearly give out.
He steps closer, chest almost brushing mine, and I can smell his soap, clean and familiar, like it never left our house. My hand somehow ends up on his chest, palm flat, feeling the steady thump of his heart through his shirt.
“Baby,” he says again, softer now. “Tell me to back off. Right now. And I will.”
I should.
I really should.
But my fingers curl into the cotton stretched over his muscles, and I tilt my head up, eyes locking on his.
“I hate you for making me love you this much,” I breathe.
That’s all it takes.
His mouth is on mine in a second—hot, urgent, desperate. Like a man who’s been starving and finally got a taste of what he’s missed. He kisses me like it’s still his right, and the worst part is, my body responds like it is.
I melt into him, my back hitting the counter, his hands on my waist, under my shirt, thumbs brushing bare skin. My fingers tangle in his hair as he deepens the kiss, and I let him because I can’t not.
He lifts me like I weigh nothing and sets me on the counter, stepping between my knees like he owns this space, owns me.
And for one breathless, blazing moment, I let him.
But then I remember.
“Kyler.” I press my forehead to his. “We can’t. We’re living together again. It would be too easy.”
He stills.
Only for a second.
Then his hands slip under my thighs and he lifts me just enough to pull me closer to the edge of the counter, his mouth brushing the corner of mine, soft now, coaxing.
“Since when is easy a bad thing?” he murmurs, trailing light kisses across my cheek, the line of my jaw, back to the edge of my mouth. “You think this feels easy? Because I’m standing here losing my mind over you.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, willing my heart to stop beating so hard. “Kyler—”
He leans in again, his mouth barely skimming mine in the softest, most deliberate kiss yet.
When he pulls back, his voice is low, wrecked, but steady.
“You say we can’t,” he murmurs, gaze locked on mine.
“But the way you just moaned my name…” He trails off planting a kiss on the sensitive spot on my neck.
My fingers grip the front of his shirt again, uselessly trying to gather some kind of resolve. “Kyler, you didn’t want me anymore. This” —I gesture between us, our bodies flush, my legs around his hips— “this doesn’t make that go away.”
His expression softens, the cocky edge fading, replaced with something vulnerable and earnest and so Kyler it cracks me open.
“I never stopped wanting you,” he says, quiet. “I just didn’t know how to be what you needed without bringing every piece of my job into our home. But I’m here now. You don’t have to let me back in, Ivy. Just...don’t push me away when you still look at me like that.”
I stare at him, breath shallow. “Like what?”
He smiles faintly, brushing his nose against mine. “Like I’m still yours.”
The silence stretches, and I hate how right he is. How every cell in my body is still calibrated to him.
His hand cradles the back of my neck now, and he kisses me again, slow, unhurried, the kind of kiss that sinks its teeth into your soul. Not about lust. Not even about need.
I sigh into him, my heart breaking and blooming at the same time, and for a second, I forget every reason I shouldn’t let this happen.
But then the front door clicks open.
“Daddy, are you here? Grandma said you’re still here.” Hadley’s voice, high and happy, filters in from the entryway.
Kyler freezes, forehead still against mine, eyes fluttering closed.
We both exhale.
Then I slide off the counter and press a hand to his chest.
“That never happened,” I whisper.
He surprises me with one more heart-stopping kiss. His smile is maddening. “Mhmm.” He steps back, adjusting his shirt like he didn’t just kiss me breathless. “Whatever helps you sleep tonight.”
I readjust the clip holding back my long hair as Hadley races around the corner and launches herself into Kyler’s strong arms.