Marissa
The rap on the front door startles me. Jesse and I shared a lazy morning together, and he only left to pick up lunch ten minutes ago. I’m not sure why he would knock.
“It’s still open, you goof,” I call out from the sofa.
The front door creaks open and I hear a familiar giggle followed by two shrieking voices.
“Mommy!”
I leap up from the sofa and stumble toward the front door. It couldn’t be. They weren’t supposed to be back for three more days. Yet here they are, freshly tanned and racing toward me.
“Mommy!”
My eyes swell with hot, unexpected tears as I squat down and scoop them both into my arms. I press my nose into their hair, inhaling their sweet scent.
“My babies.” My severed insides fuse together, newly repaired, as I hold them tight. I’m so happy about being reunited that I temporarily forget to wonder why they’re back early to begin with. That is, until I hear the low rumble of someone clearing their throat.
Straightening, I see Rocky standing in the foyer, hands jammed into the pockets of his signature black skinny jeans. The sun has turned his skin an even darker shade of caramel, making it pop against his tight white T-shirt, and I’m momentarily reminded of what I saw in him all those years ago.
“Hey, Rissa,” he says, calling me by the nickname I’ve never warmed to.
His eyes drop from my face to sweep appreciatively over the length of my body, drinking in the lace chemise I’d completely forgotten I was wearing.
It makes me feel gross. I cross my arms over my chest, covering the most revealing parts of my ensemble, and the corners of his mouth curl in amusement.
Rocky’s personality never fails to cancel out his good looks.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. His smirk fades a decimal and his dark brows lower.
“Good to see you too,” he says. He reluctantly drags his eyes back to my face. “We decided to come back early and surprise you. I thought you’d be happy to see us.”
My insides clench. How does he always turn everything around to make it my fault? My ex-husband is a master manipulator. But I’m no longer interested in playing his games.
I give the kids a squeeze and plaster on my best smile. “Of course I’m happy. What an unbelievable surprise.”
The front door opens behind him and Jesse steps inside.
He’s carrying a brown takeout bag and freezes when he sees my family in the foyer.
Rocky looks back and forth between us, amusement creeping into his features as he puts the pieces together.
“Well, well. I guess this day is just full of surprises.”
Jesse’s eyes are wide, and I give him a tiny shake of my head, which I hope communicates that I’m just as caught off guard by this turn of events as he is.
“Rocky, you remember Jesse. My … carpenter.” Shit, am I really doing this again?
Jesse’s mouth tightens into a hard line, while Rocky’s smirk grows.
I wish I could tell him that I’m doing it to protect him, that the best way to keep him out of Rocky’s crosshairs is to minimize his importance to me.
But based on the look on Jesse’s face, I’m worried I’ve done more harm than good.
“Oh, I remember,” Rocky says. “It seems your services are invaluable around here. You must be great with your hands.”
Jesse’s jaw twitches but before he can say anything else, my kids dash over to hug him.
“Jesse!” They wrap their arms around his legs, and his expression softens. He reaches down to ruffle their hair.
“Hey guys. How was your trip?” he asks softly.
“It was the best!” Isla exclaims. Then she turns back to look at me, and I can see her recalibrating.
“But we missed you, Mommy. I wish you had come with us.”
Rocky nods in agreement. “She’s right. It would have been better with you, Rissa.”
My fingers curl into a tight ball at the second use of that nickname.
Rocky redirects his attention to Jesse, studying him with fresh eyes.
He’s probably wondering why our children seem so attached to our handyman.
His gaze drops to Jesse’s fist, which is still awkwardly clutching the bag of sandwiches, and I notice his knuckles are white.
“I hope I’m not interrupting your lunch plans. ”
Jesse’s words are flat. “Not at all. I was just about to leave.”
“Jesse, please. You don’t have to go.”
“No, I have some paperwork to get to. Enjoy your family time. I know you need it.” His tone is softer now, but he’s refusing to meet my eye. He presses the takeout bag into Rocky’s hands.
“The team will be out tomorrow,” he mutters. Then he steps through the front door, pulling it shut behind him.
Rocky looks as smug as a cat that caught its prey. He peers into the paper bag and grins.
“Who’s hungry?”
“So, this is where you vacationed as a kid?” Rocky stares out at the lake. Our own children are standing barefoot at the edge of the dock, skipping stones in the water. Sunlight reflects in golden ribbons off the top of their heads.
“Yep. Every summer.”
Rocky nods sagely. “Not exactly Lake Como, but it’s cute. A simpler way of life.” My nails dig into my palms. It’s not that I disagree with his evaluation. The quiet simplicity of the mountains largely makes up its charm. It’s just so belittling when it comes out of his mouth.
I stare out at the horizon, refusing to give him the satisfaction of meeting his eye.
“I can’t help but notice you are without your betrothed again.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Rocky tense.
“She decided to fly straight back to LA,” he says lightly. “Had a lot on her calendar for this week.”
I loll my head to the side and give him a hard look. “You might be able to float that bullshit with other people, Rocky, but not me. I know you too well.”
Rocky drags a hand through that luscious head of hair.
“I know. That’s just the problem, actually.” He levels me with those jade eyes that have made audiences swoon for over two decades now. “Rayna, she … doesn’t get me the way that you do. When we were on the trip, I realized that I was there with the wrong woman.”
I blink once and then again, so surprised by his words that I can’t find my own.
He takes advantage of my silence and leans closer, like the camera is panning in for his big line. “We’re a family, Marissa. It should have been you with us. Not her.”
I intake a sharp breath as a flurry of mixed emotions washes over me.
On the one hand, I almost feel vindicated.
Of course our relationship is less shallow than the one he has with Rayna.
There’s more to our life together than red carpets and photo ops.
We’ve seen each other at our best and our worst. We’ve raised children together.
There’s just no competing with that sense of shared history.
On the other hand, I’m pissed. Livid, even. How dare he try to come crawling back to me, after everything he put me through. After what he put the whole family through. After a decade together, he discarded me as easily as an old bag of lettuce. And now he wants a second chance?
“This is so like you,” I say. I had meant for the words to be venomous, but they just sound tired. “You can’t just swap women in and out like they’re actors in one of your movies. These are real lives you’re playing with.”
“You’re right.” Rocky looks uncharacteristically chastised.
“I’m well aware that I screwed up, big time.
Maybe it was a midlife crisis, maybe it was the Pacific air.
Maybe it was the fact that without you there, I realized you’re the linchpin holding this family together.
Whatever it was, I had an epiphany on this trip and realized you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I never should have let you go.”
His words are exactly what I would have wanted to hear two years ago. Now they’re hollow, meaningless.
“But you did let me go,” I remind him. “I loved you, Rocky. I always, always had your back. And you threw it all away, like our relationship meant nothing.”
Rocky’s features contort into a look of pure agony. A wrinkle forms above his brow and his eyes are wide and pleading.
“I fucked up, okay? And I regret it every day. I know how much of my success I owe to you. You were there for me, celebrating the highs and coaching me through the lows. I miss having you in my corner. Rayna is not the kind of woman who supports you. The only career she cares about is her own. And frankly, being with her is exhausting, because she’s a bottomless well of need.
She’s a taker, not a giver. Not like you. ”
Being a giver has always been my best and worst quality. And Rocky has always been happy to receive. I was like his own personal Giving Tree: He used me up until I had nothing left to offer, and by the time our marriage ended, I was just a sad little stump.
Rocky places a hand on my knee. “Over the past two weeks, I had a glimpse of what the rest of my life would be like with Rayna, and I realized it’s never going to work. She’s never going to make me happy. Not like you did. Remember how much fun we used to have together?”
Unfortunately, I do. It’s one of the reasons it was so hard to walk away from Rocky to begin with.
My brain cues up a carousel of memories: Flinging handfuls of flour at each other during a pasta-making class in Italy.
Trying on the matching bracelets he’d picked out in a Paris flea market, with the magnetic, heart-shaped charms that drew our wrists together.
The tender way he’d cleaned me up after I nicked myself slicing apples.
I still remember the way he held my hand in his, the way he traced his thumb over my bandaged wound.
But it doesn’t erase all the ways he broke my heart. All the ways he violated my trust and proved he had no real intentions of loving me forever.
“Listen, I’m thrilled that you’ve had some major epiphany or whatever,” I say, my words clipped. “But you don’t just get to throw away the life we built together on a whim and then jump back in when you realize you made a mistake. Your actions have consequences. Our relationship is over.”
Rocky tilts his head to the side, and his woeful pout shifts into bemusement. “Is this about the carpenter?”
My cheeks go hot. There is no way I’m giving him the satisfaction of answering that question.
But the truth is, being with Jesse has changed me. It made me realize that I don’t need to make myself small to fit into someone else’s life. And even though this is nothing more than a summer fling, I’ve realized I’m no longer interested in settling for less than I deserve.
“I’m sorry, but my answer is no,” I say firmly. “Our relationship is over. It has been for a long time.”
Rocky gives me a long, hard stare, searching my expression for weak points. When he finds none, I see a flash of surprise flit through his features before he nods in glum resignation.
“Okay,” he concedes. “But if you ever change your mind, just know that I will be right here, waiting for you.”
Isla and Levi are making their way over to us now.
“Hungry,” Levi says. Isla nods. “I’m starving too.”
“Well then, we’d better get you kids something to eat,” Rocky replies. “What do you say we go grab a bite? All together as a family, just like old times?”
Isla’s face lights up with hope. Then the corners of her mouth fall slightly as she glances over at me, a question in her eyes.
She’s watching my reaction, wants to see if I’m going to reject the idea.
As badly as I’d like to, I can’t stand the thought of breaking her heart.
Besides, it’s just one night. Rocky is heading back to LA in the morning and then we get to enjoy our last two weeks here in peace.
“Sure,” I say, acquiescing, and Isla’s smile reignites to its full luminescence. “Dinner sounds great.”
“Perfect,” she says softly. “As a family.”
Something in my chest twists at her words. I have no interest in reconciling with Rocky. But it hurts to know my daughter is still clinging to the fantasy of our family becoming whole again. And worse, that I just turned down his offer to make it happen.
For a moment, I can see us all from the outside.
The sun starting to set, the lavender sky reflecting off the water like a pool of melted sherbet.
It’s all so picturesque, the perfect closing shot.
In another world, this moment would be one of reunion.
Things set back the way they were, the way they should be, with the four of us as one again.
Am I selfish to deprive my children of a stable home with the classic set of two loving parents?
Rocky and I don’t agree on everything. He has made countless mistakes—of course I have too.
But how much of that is life? And how much of that is the kind of thing you’re supposed to work on?
Couples therapy is a thing for a reason.
Rocky gave up on us first. Then me. Do we owe it to the kids to try harder? Especially now, when I’m the only holdout?
Rocky claps his hands together, the sound of it clearing away my reverie.
“Why don’t you guys go inside and get changed? We can leave in ten?”
Isla and Levi beam and run inside. I look to my ex, see the love there in his eyes for those two perfect kids, and something in my heart aches like a bruise being pressed.
He turns to me and gives me a flash of that smile that has gotten him so far in this world. So far with me.
“I better get changed,” he says. “Thanks for hearing me out.”
“Of course.” My voice comes out like gravel. I clear it. “I’ll be inside in a sec.”
He nods and then presses himself off the rail and goes inside, leaving me in the waning sunset to wonder just how much my happiness should cost.