19. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Andre
Each day gets easier. Not only our routine, but the emotional part of it too.
I haven’t traveled in so long that I was used to having Rylee around all the time.
Her starting school has been an adjustment for us both.
Thankfully, Paul has already been through this and has been a rock for me, and has helped so much with Rylee.
Not only with her adjusting, but with picking her up from school and even bringing her in some mornings.
If I wasn’t working right now, I don’t know what I’d be doing.
Going crazy, that’s what. Working during the day helps keep me sane.
I’m too busy dealing with these kids to sit and worry about made-up scenarios in my head.
I have to remind myself that Rylee is safe where she’s at and if anything is wrong, they’ll call me.
Her being with strangers is what’s getting to me the most. When she wasn’t with me, when I had to travel, she was with my parents.
That’s it. There was never anyone else. Never any babysitters.
Nothing. She never went to preschool or daycare.
Victoria always stayed with her. Taught her everything.
And she did a good job because Rylee is smart as hell.
And those aren’t only my words. I’ve received multiple updates from her teachers already, and they even spoke to me a few times to tell me how impressed they are with her. She’s thrilled. She loves school. I can hardly get her to sleep at night because she’s so excited about going back.
Keeping busy is good. I think the busier she is, the more friends she makes, the more things she does that she enjoys, she’ll be able to process and move on from the loss she’s experienced.
Of course, she will never forget her mother, the same way I’ll never forget her, but it’s true that time heals all wounds.
It’ll always be sad thinking about her, but the sadness isn’t all-consuming as it once was. And I've realized that it’s okay.
This stuff with Paul, however, has messed me up a bit. I haven’t said anything to him, and I don’t think he has noticed. Mostly because I didn’t want my trauma and my own insecurities to mess anything up between us.
At first, everything was great. But then one day I realized what was going on between us was… different. Because somehow it got pretty serious, and I don’t even know when that happened.
We have this perfect familial routine with us and the kids.
I’m at the point where I’m wondering if we should tell people what’s going on?
I mean, I’m not sure I even know what’s going on.
It’s not something we’ve talked about. I’m not sure if he’s avoiding it, or maybe I am?
I don’t know. I just feel like I know what we’re doing, and I can’t say I don’t like it, because I do, but is that all this is?
Are we just messing around for the hell of it?
It doesn’t feel that way. It feels pretty serious.
Obviously, before we talk to anyone else, though, we need to talk to each other. Get on the same page.
So it’s a good thing the kids are going to my mom’s tonight.
It’s the first night they’ve both slept over her house again since school has started.
We’ve all just been so busy, and with Amelia and Paul back to their normal schedule, Maddox isn’t around as much anymore.
Which is good, in a way. He should be with his mother.
That’s important. But I see how torn he is to go back and forth sometimes, and how much Paul misses him when he’s gone. Rylee, too.
I blink and realize the light in front of me is green.
I hardly remember getting to this point, I was so in my head about everything going on.
I glance at the clock. I left school about twenty minutes ago, hitting unexpected traffic.
It never happens this late at night, but of course tonight it did.
The kids will likely already be at my mom’s by the time I get home.
They were anxious to head over there, and even though I wanted Rylee to wait so I could see her, she was happy to go, so I didn’t want to make her wait. I’ll see her tomorrow.
Paul’s car isn’t in the driveway when I get home. It’s about eight, and I’m sure he’s on his way back from dropping the kids off.
I find a plate of food in the microwave for me, so I heat it up and sit down to eat, noticing Rylee’s newest project hanging on the fridge.
It’s a calendar with the days of the week, all colored in with pinks and purples.
On each day is what I assume are different foods, because that does look like pizza on Monday.
Though it could also be a sun with weird eyes. Who knows.
The microwave beeps, and I sit at the island, staring at the drawing and getting that weird feeling in my chest again.
Whenever Rylee does something new, I feel this awful sense of guilt that Victoria is missing out on it.
I try not to; I know she wouldn’t want that, but it’s not always easy to control your emotions.
The front door opens and closes.
“Hey,” I say. “How was your day?”
“I’m exhausted,” Paul answers as he hangs up his keys and toes off his shoes, leaving his beat-up sneakers by the door. He comes over to sit beside me, resting his head on my shoulder and sighing.
I eat as he rests against me, neither of us saying anything else. And we don’t have to. It’s not weird to just sit here like this with him. It’s relaxing. Comfortable.
When I’m done, he sits up and I wash my plate in the sink.
“Is this a menu?” I ask, pointing to Rylee’s drawing.
Paul huffs. “Yeah. They were practicing the days of the week, and she was told to draw something she wanted to do every day. Her answer was eat.”
I laugh. Only my kid.
“I guess that’s smart. Eating is a necessity.”
“That’s what I told her. She’s a smart girl.”
Paul gets up and comes over to me. I step back and he boxes me in against the counter.
“How was your day?” His voice is low, gravelly.
“Good,” I answer, swallowing hard. “I was hoping we could talk though.”
His brows shoot up. “You want to talk?”
“I mean, there are a lot of things I want to do, but yeah, I want to talk.”
His gaze narrows at me for a moment, then there’s a slight frown on his face as he steps back. I note the momentary flash of panic on his face, so I grab his arm, pulling him to me.
“It’s nothing bad.”
He nods against me. He seems tired as hell today. More than usual. It’s the end of the week, so I get it. Being a gym teacher and coaching three nights a week is hard work. We’re moving all day, and trying to keep kids in line is a full time job on its own. These kids are ruthless.
I take Paul’s hand and lead us back to the stools at the island, and we sit, facing each other with our knees brushing.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Just tired,” he says.
“That’s really all?”
“Yeah, really. I’m just really feeling it today, I guess.”
I nod in agreement. I’m tired too, but it seems to be hitting him harder than I thought.
“What do we need to talk about?” he asks. Though his words are simple, I hear the edge of concern in his voice.
“You ever have those moments when you’re driving and suddenly you realize that you’ve been zoning out for ten miles and it’s a miracle you didn’t get into an accident?”
He laughs. “Yeah. Happens all the time.”
“Happened to me on the way home,” I say with a smile. “Just thinking about us and this.”
“This?”
“Everything we’re doing.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Do you ever think about it?” I ask, feeling uneasy. Which is something I don’t normally feel. Especially around Paul.
“I think about it all the time, Andre,” he says seriously, though he doesn’t look at me directly.
“What do you think about it?”
He grins. “No, we’re not doing that.”
“Doing what?” I ask.
“You wanted to talk to me, and what? You don’t know how to start the conversation, so you’re putting it on me? Slick. But no. Say what you have to say.”
I didn’t even realize I was doing that, but I guess he’s right.
I scratch the back of my neck.
“I was just thinking about everything we’re doing, and how we have this routine. With each other and the kids. Living here, us…together. All of it.”
“And?”
“I’m just wondering if it needs to be talked about?”“In what way?” he tenses, his eyebrows narrowing in on me once more, like he’s waiting for me to drop a bombshell.
Maybe I am. But I know one thing for sure is that he’s right. I need to say what is on my mind… what’s been on my mind since that first time we kissed. So, I take a deep breath and answer.
“In the way that I really like what we’re doing here, and it feels like things are getting more serious, and I hope I’m not the only one who feels that way.
And that maybe we need to talk to the kids.
Or my parents. Or Amelia…” Paul stares at me, unblinking.
“Or I’ve lost my mind and misread the entire situation and—”
I get off the seat, already regretting this decision, but Paul grabs my arm.
“Hey, you’re not misreading anything,” he says firmly. His touch is warm, but not harsh. It’s surprisingly soft. Like he’s afraid I’ll disappear from his grasp. “This definitely feels like it’s becoming something pretty serious.” He licks his lips, his voice dropping an octave.
“Like we are something…more than what we should be.”
I blow out a breath of relief and sit back down.
“Do you want that?” I ask carefully. “For us to be something serious?” The words are unfamiliar, and I’m dancing around the truth, but the moment feels slightly delicate and the last thing I want to do is turn this upside down and break it because of these unrelenting thoughts and unexplained feelings.
For a moment, Paul is quiet, his gaze searching mine.
“Maybe,” he says carefully.“It’s… confusing but not at the same time.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Which doesn’t make sense.”
“No, it doesn’t. Like.. I know how I feel about you, and in some ways, it’s not all that different, but…
” He twists his lips, letting out another sigh before he continues.
“I also know how I feel when I’m with you.
I know being next to you feels different than it used to, and I’m fine with that.
I know that I like kissing you—a lot more than I probably should.
” He lets out a nervous laugh, and I don’t miss the blush staining his cheeks.
Something about it makes me feel less worried, less scared.
“When I’m with you…” He huffs out a low breath.
“When we’re together, everything feels good. But it’s just…”
“Weird?”
He chuckles. “Maybe a little, yeah. Because it’s… unexpected. I never thought… you know…”
I nod. “Definitely unexpected. And I get it. I never thought we’d be here either.”
“But you’re okay with it? Being here, I mean.”
I think about his words and answer him truthfully because this is Paul. If there’s one person in the world I can be honest with, it’s him, and this—what’s happening between us—doesn’t change that.
“I think so, yes.”
The kitchen goes quiet for a moment, and I move into his space, barely an inch. Wordlessly, he looks up at me, his thumb rubbing circles on my wrist.
“Me too,” he says firmly, taking my hand.
“Which is why we need to figure something out. We can’t keep hiding it, and honestly, there is so much going on I don’t think hiding it is even smart.
” I link my fingers between his, focusing on the warmth of his skin; the way his fingers lace between mine.
I squeeze them softly, if only to reiterate to myself they’re real. That this… us, is real.
“I can agree with that. So… who do we tell first?” he asks, his thumb brushing over my knuckles slowly.
Shaking my head, I think over our options and the best way to do this.
“I’d say either my parents or Amelia. I think the conversation with the kids might be a little more difficult, so telling the others first will give us some practice.”
“That makes sense, but I don’t want to wait forever to tell them. I think if we’re going to be open about this, then we need to just do it. Not make a big deal out of it.”
“Rip the Band-Aid off.”
He nods.“Let’s flip a coin,” he says, standing up and digging in his pockets. He frowns. “You got a coin?”
I dig around in the junk drawer and find a quarter. I hand it over. He rubs it between his palms and goes to toss it up.
“Wait!” I say. He startles “Sorry, but who is heads and who is tails?”
“Oh. Good point. Uh… you pick.”
I roll my eyes and say, “Fine. My parents are tails.”
He tosses the coin in the air, and we watch it fall to the floor. When it stops moving, we stare at it for a minute before looking at each other.