Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
Jess
Four Months Later
“We’re home!” I call out like I always do. I haven’t walked in on them…yet, but it’s bound to happen. I’m just trying to prolong the “yet” for as long as possible.
“Hi, babes,” Jamie says while he walks out of the kitchen, wiping crumbs off his mouth.
“Eden, go see Daddy.” I set her down on the ground and she bolts straight into her dad’s arms. I drop the swim bag in the coat closet, digging out our wet towels and swimsuits from our Mommy and me lessons.
“How was it?” Jamie asks, holding Eden under one of his arms as she flails and giggles uncontrollably.
“It was fine.” He follows me to the laundry room. “It was the snarky instructor today. You know, the one with the nose ring?” I roll my eyes and he does, too.
“God, she’s such a little bitch, right?” he asks, bringing a smile to my lips as I no d in agreement because he took the words right out of my mouth.
“Like how did she get a job working with babies?”
“I’m writing an email.” Jamie’s our keyboard warrior, I just laugh.
“Where’s Tommy?”
“Having lunch with Damian.” Oh. Cool. Cool.
“Fun. Hey, I’m craving pasta for dinner. I think I’m going to head to the store. Are you good to stay with Eden while she naps?”
“Yep. Take the day. Or whatever. We’re going to eat lunch, nap, and then watch the Great British Baking Show until our eyes bleed.”
I laugh. “Good God, man. I don’t care about your eyes, but let’s protect the baby’s. But it sounds fun.”
“It’s gonna be a blast.” He smiles at me. And I smile back.
Jamie passes me the other half of his sandwich once we’re in the kitchen, then I swipe the running grocery list off the fridge, and head to the backdoor for my car.
“Text me if you think of something else we need,” I call out.
“Will do, love you!” Still weird.
“Uh huh, bye!”
Jamie has decided to tell me he loves me, much in the same way you’d tell a sister. (Duh.) I’m not sold, but I’m also not not sold. Some day Eden will probably think it’s amazing that all her parents loved each other. So I tolerate it because I love Jamie in that same entirely platonic way, too. I just don’t want to tell him every time I go to the supermarket.
We’ve been cohabitating for two months now. And honestly, no complaints. Going from single parenting to having three committed p arents feels like a vacation. There’s always an extra hand, there’s always someone willing to tag in when you want to tap out, and the free nights are actual bliss.
I don’t even feel anything when I watch them kiss or cuddle anymore. It’s all just very…normal. And Eden is happy. So I’m happy.
Maybe I’m not the happi est . But I’m happy. To be working for Liam still. To not feel maxed out on life every day. To not be shackled to a man who still resents me. Also not shackled to a man who doesn’t love me. It’s all good things. Honestly. And I’m even making my kale and walnut pesto tonight. Like, we are living. We are good . (Are you convinced yet?)
The Whole Foods gods have even smiled upon me today because I get first-floor parking in the garage. Yes!
I’m still pulling out my grocery tote (filled with more totes) when my name gets called out across the garage. I don’t really have friends here anymore, so it takes me by surprise.
“Jess!” I turn towards the voice to see a cute-as-pie Summer in her spring best bounding toward me. Oh .
“Summer.” My cheeks flush when I notice the bump she’s rocking. Ohhhh . “Hi and, um, congratulations.” She sets a hand over her little bump proudly. Very awesome .
“Thanks! Um, I haven’t seen you in forever!”
“Just busy mommin’ , you’ll know.” God, could I be any more awkward? “Well, Damian and the girls must be so excited. I can’t believe I haven’t heard about this until now!”
Her face falls a fraction. “Oh, no. Damian broke up with me six months or so ago. This,” she pats her belly, “isn’t Damian’s!” Oh, lord. Thank you. I want to visibly sigh with relief, but I try to roll with it .
“Oh! I just thought you two reconciled…" The cogs in my brain start turning. “Well, he told me you broke up with him?”
She rears back slightly. “No, he definitely broke up with me.” She sort of laughs, “Because he couldn’t get over?—”
“Brit?” I cut her off expectantly, already nodding my head like, Girl, I get it.
“Well, no…” Huh…
“Weird! I don’t really keep up with him anymore, so it’s news to me!” (I don’t and it is.) “I should let you get going, but umm, congrats to you and your lucky someone again!”
Summer looks back over at her Lexus SUV where a tech bro is waiting for her. (Makes complete sense.) I smile and she smiles back.
“Nice to see you, Jess.” I nod and she flounces away, her Ganni dress flapping against the April breeze.
I’ve kept my distance to mostly everyone except Tommy, Jamie, and Brit. And Liam. (Because he’s my boss). I haven’t talked to Damian since that night, and certainly not Alex. (Definitely fucking not.)
Jess
Hey, it’s been a while. How are you?
Caroline
First home game of the softball season is next Saturday. Can you come?
You betcha. But you didn’t answer, how are you?
Better every day.
Okay, love you.
Love you more.
I pocket the phone and head into battle at Whole Foods on a Saturday, on the first nice day of spring.
When I get home from the grocery store, I find a priority mail envelope waiting on the eat-in table, and it’s addressed to me.
“What’s this?” I ask Jamie, presuming it’s something divorce or custody related.
Jamie walks up, taking a tote bag out of my hands.
“No clue, honestly. Never even heard of the law firm before.”
The return address is some generic-sounding Smith & Smith & Smith bullshit. Weird . I drop my other totes on the ground and start by opening the envelope. It’s a stack of paperwork that resembles the now defunct prenup I signed.
There’s a post-it note on top in a writing I don’t recognize that simply says,
“I’ve always and only ever loved you, Jess.”
I suck in a deep breath. The waves of emotion that radiate through my body make me want to faint, cry, keel over and die, all at the same time.
But there’s no apology. There’s nothing else. And I do look, quickly, flipping through each and every page hoping for some other nugget or message. But there isn’t. Just paperwork and instructions on how to access a trust established in my name .
Did he? No. But maybe he did…maybe he broke our contract on purpose.
Is that why he got married?
Fuck you, Alex. For haunting me still.
“So, what is it?” Jamie asks, picking up the other grocery totes, scattered and spilling out on the floor.
“It’s Alex.”
Jamie’s hackles immediately raise. His eyebrows shoot up, and he looks at me with shock and concern. In a haze, I pass the paperwork over to him. He drops all the groceries back on the floor and immediately scans and flips through the document with expert precision.
“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say he really loved the fuck out of you,” Jamie says when he gets to the page where the trust balance is displayed. “Or he feels really fucking guilty about marrying someone else.” Yeah, that’s probably it.
I still struggle to comprehend the amount of wealth swimming around Northern Virginia. That is until I come to Caroline or Elodie’s school events, and then it becomes crystal clear. I am poor and they are not. (But I guess I’m not entirely poor anymore, am I?)
Still haven’t decided if I even want to touch what Alex gave me. It’s mine, free and clear, but it feels dirty. Like he’s paying me off. Or like he’s buying a clean conscience. And I don’t know that I want any part of that.
And I’m not thinking about Alex today. That’s not what today is about .
The campus where the girls attend boarding school looks like an English manor, if English manors also had sports complexes that were funded by the Kennedy family and rivaled NCAA fields.
Stepping out of my car, I feel it. It’s butterflies, and a dry mouth, and an uneasiness I just can’t shake. I slam the car door shut and dust off my trusty AGOLDEs. Like my pants are dirty and not that my hands are clammy because the nerves are getting the best of me. (It’s definitely the latter.)
I may have given myself a blowout. And done my makeup well. And worn good underwear. Because, I mean, you never know who you’ll run into, right? But if all this is is an outing to see one of my best girls (childfree, I might add) then I’ll be content. (I left Eden with the dads so she could do swim class and nap uninterrupted. Really, this three-parent thing is so clutch sometimes.)
After the second inning, it becomes clear that he won’t be here, which is why Caroline probably wanted me to come. Right . I don’t let it get me down, I just cheer her on. When she gets an out at second, I’m screaming. When she makes it home, I’m crying. And when the game is done, I wait for her outside the locker rooms.
“Hey.”
I turn around to the voice that used to be my safety net, and is now just a stranger’s.
“Hey,” I say back, trying my best to mirror his tone.
“Thanks for making it today.” Polite . He’s being very polite.
“Oh, sure. Caroline asked, so here I am!” Awkward . I am being awkward. We both stare at each other for a second too long. “Well, since you ’re here now, I should go. Tell Caroline I said she played awesome today.”
“W-wait.” He reaches for my hand as I’m leaving.
“JESS!” The high-pitched squeal from the parking lot has me shaking his hand off. Elodie runs over and jumps right into my arms. “I didn’t know you were going to be here!” She’s still got her knee pads on from volleyball. “We just got back from our game in Pennsylvania. We won.” She does a little happy dance. “Did Caroline win?”
I give Elodie a big hug back, then release her. “Yup, 5-2. She got an out and scored a run.”
“Woo whoo, now I have to pee. brB.” Then Elodie bounds off into the locker rooms.
I smile at Damian and he smiles back, and with a wave, I turn to leave again.
“Would you go out with me?” he asks my back. “On a date that is. Would you go out on a date with me?”
I turn back around to find him with his hands in his pockets, rocking against his heels nervously. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?” I ask.
He starts, “I mean?—
“I actually ran into Summer,” I cut him off, “and she told me there was someone else, and really, I’ve done that before and I’m only interested in being with someone who is only mine . ”
“The someone else was you, Jess.” He pauses. “I am only yours.” His mouth sort of twists nervously at his confession. Oh .
“Umm…” is all I can get out at first. I’m speechless. “But what about Brit? The love of your life?”
“She can’t be the love of my life if I’ve fallen harder for someone else.” My chee ks flame, and my body thumps with each beat of my heart. “Do you ever wonder about what could have been…between us, Jess?” He finally asks the question he started in Spearhead. Yes. I nod in response, but I’m still speechless.
He takes a tentative step closer. “So, I’m asking again. Jess, would you go out with me?”
“You ran away from me…after Christmas…” That stung. More than I’d expected it to.
“I just couldn’t be around you and act normal anymore.” He pushes his moppy hair back. “Didn’t think you were ready for that.” I wasn’t. Probably. “And you were still married.” I was. I’m not now. “And I spent a lot of years pretending to be fine around you, and I was just done pretending.”
If we weren’t at a kids softball game I would kiss the absolute shit out of him. “How long, Damian?” I ask quietly, curiously.
“Since I checked yes. Since…always.” He says with a smirk. Fuck it. I launch myself into his arms and he catches me. PG, keep it PG. I drop my legs so it doesn’t look quite so bad, and instead of molesting him with tongue, I give him a safe-for-work kiss.
“One date,” I tell him. “You get one date. We’ll see if you can make it to two.”
He laughs this big laugh that never fails to warm my insides. “I’ll win you over.”
“Did you just say you’re going to bend me over?!” I ask in mock shock.
He laughs again and says, “Well, that, too.”
I stopped counting after the sixth date because after that, he was just always around. Or I was always with him. We just never really wanted to not be with one another.
We started taking turns with who went to whose sporting events. Most of his clothes were now hung up in my closet. He even got a bigger car to fit Eden’s car seat.
Then we told the girls, and Brit, and our families. And at that point, we’d already talked about all the biggest things.
Marriage: Sure. Kids: Done. We were both done. Houses: Not in the city, but next door to the dads. Wedding: Small. Honeymoon: Big. Ring: Bigger.
And then one night, I woke up with a strange sort of unease that I just couldn’t shake.
“Babe.” I nudge him awake with a hand on his chest.
“Mmm,” he rouses sleepily.
“I don’t think you’ve ever made me cry.”
“Oh…” he says, running a hand down his sleep worn face. “Wait, are you breaking up with me?”
I laugh at him. “Oh my god, no.”
“Okay…do you want me to make you cry?” He reaches out for me, letting a hand drift into my hair.
“Maybe…” I trail off, then move to straddle him. “Babe?”
“Yeah, sweetheart?” he asks, already moving his hands to my hips, one of them roaming up to my breast then back down again, slipping a finger through my damp folds.
“I love you.”
He breaks out into the biggest grin. So big, he forces another dimple into existence.
“I love you more, Jess.” He pulls me forward for a kiss that’s deep and long a nd it’s like your soul meeting its other half and it’s a fusion. His life with mine, his love for mine. It’s a trade, and he gives himself to me, again and again. Just like he has since our first date. “Took you long enough, baby,” he says with a quick nip at my lip.
I nod, knowing he’s right. “It’s time to make me cry,” I push back and trail down his muscular frame until my mouth hovers over his hard cock.
“Jess, you’re my fucking dream,” he tells me as a hand weaves into my hair to grip the back of my neck as I lower my mouth around him.
And I do cry. When his cock hits the back of my throat and I start to gag, happy tears expel from my eyes.
When he pulls me up, flips us, and enters me he says, “I’ve loved you for a long time, Jess.” And another happy tear falls.
When he brings me to climax three times and swipes another finger across my overly sensitized clit, I cry but beg for more.
When he comes in me and rests his forehead against mine and tells me, “You’re my person, Jess.” I let one more tear fall.
“Love you, babe,” I tell him.
“Mmm, love hearing you say it,” he bites my shoulder, as his dick twitches inside me. “Are we busy tomorrow?”
“Nope.”
“Great.” He slides out of me, leaving a gushing trail of cum in his wake, and he stares at me intently. Torn between my face and my pussy.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I tease, but he whips his phone off the nightstand and snaps a picture. Or two. Or five. I love when he does that . I love that when he’s away for work, he looks at me. He wants to look at me still.
I smile, and he smiles back giving me a quick kiss, then asks, “Are you satisfied?”
“Five stars,” I say, holding up a hand. “Would come again,” and give him a wink.
“Are we going to see the girls?” I ask once we pass the furthest point of civilization. (Not really.)
“Yeah, after.” He slides a hand on to my thigh as he drives and it’s completely non-platonic the way it nestles right up against the v between my legs. I put my hand over his, and just settle in. Relaxed. Happy.
“Love you.” I love to just say it. I’ve said it maybe ten times already this morning. He’s going to be so sick of hearing it.
“Mmm, never gonna get tired of that, babe.” He smiles, still facing the road.
We turn off about 15 minutes short of the girls’ school and into a private enclave of custom homes. We drive until we hit the furthest reaches, then pull into a cul de sac and park.
“Are you moving?” I ask, looking around at the lots marked sold around us.
“There’s something in the trunk for you. Why don’t you go get it?” he asks, leaning forward to give me a quick peck.
“Okay…” I unbuckle quickly, and walk around to the back of his SUV where he’s popped the trunk already for me.
And there, sitting in an acrylic framed box like it’s an artifact of great value, is Rudolph, the thrifted sweater from my literal worst day ever. A sweater that has been meticulously and professionally pinned into linen to be on display and preserved for all of time. And I laugh.
Beside the most ridiculous looking piece of art is a card.
Sleepovers forever?
That’s all it says. But when I turn around, he’s already there, down on one knee with a massive rock in hand.
“It’s two lots, actually. Right beside each other. And you can choose whatever you want. I don’t care, just as long as it’s us. As long as you’re mine”
“Y-yes!” I blurt out my answer mindlessly, then throw myself at him on the ground. He catches me, pulling me up into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist as he stands.
“Promise it’s just me and only me?” I ask. It sounds a bit desperate, I know, but with Damian, I don’t care. He never makes me feel less than for any of my worries. And in turn, it has the effect of making me completely unworried. About him, our future, or who I am to him.
“Haven’t been in love with anyone else since our night, J.”
“Really?” I pull back, holding his face in my hands.
“Really.” He has tears in his eyes. “I’ve loved others, but never in love . Never obsessed, never not thinking about you .” Fuck, I love him.
“Do the girls know?” I ask, nodding towards the ring on my finger, then wiping a tear off his face with a thumb.
“You’re kidding, right?” Yeah, the girls know. They exploded when he told them we were dating. (In the best way.) I think they described it as the ‘step-mom jackpot.’ (Even Caroline came aroun d to the idea pretty quickly.) “They’re waiting for us.” He drops a kiss on my lips and his short stubble slides against my skin deliciously.
“Well, that was a mistake,” I laugh, “because all I can think about is staring at the rock on my hand while fisting your hair as you eat me out.”
“Goddamnit, babe.” He drops his forehead to mine and I laugh at his groan.
“Kidding, but later. Promise?”
“Promise.”