34. Chapter 34 #2
His eyebrows rise. “Wait, what?”
“I think she’s planning on leaving.”
It’s Q who chimes in at that. “I told you, she’s not going to up and walk out.”
“Yeah, man,” Cody agrees. “I don’t see her leaving.”
“I don’t think she wants to.” I swallow hard. “I think she thinks I’ve been thrown into her mess. That the only reason we got married was to protect my job.”
“Which is furthest from the truth?” Q supplies, crossing his arms.
“No shit,” Cody says, voice firmer than usual. It’s almost as if he’s getting offended for me. “You married her. You put a ring on her finger and offered to be her baby’s daddy. That’s not something you do out of guilt. You chose to do these things. You chose her.”
“I know that, but she believes I deserve better. As if there’s anyone out there better for me.”
I rake my hand down my face as Q glances between us, but Cody speaks first. “How can we help?”
I shake my head. “By being here. Letting her see she has people in her corner besides me. She needs to see that she’s still her and she doesn’t have to carry the weight alone.”
“I’m sure it feels like a lot. Hell, moving to Cleveland has felt like a lot and I don’t have a newborn.”
“I’ve never seen her look this lost. It’s terrifying.”
“Alright,” Q says, clapping his hands. “Let’s get this game over with and find our women. We’ll show her we’re here.”
“Thanks, guys. Seriously.”
We take a moment and clap hands, pulling each other in for a quick hug.
It’s not much, but it feels like everything.
These guys have been like my brothers. When they graduated and moved to different states, I admittedly was terrified they’d forget about me.
I was the one who stayed behind. The one who wasn’t moving on to the next level.
Hell, I wasn’t dating anyone. I felt so alone, but this right here, this proved that they’ll always have my back.
These guys have their own lives, significant others, and grueling sports schedules, but damn, it means everything to know they dropped everything to show up for me. For her. For us .
I didn’t realize how badly I needed the reminder that I’m not doing this alone. I don’t have to white-knuckle my way through life, because we have people who care and who will help carry the load.
They’ve got my back, and it gives me hope I can be strong enough for Savannah.
Bret’s townhouse smells like freshly baked cheesecake, thanks to Chloe and her idea to whip up some dessert.
Brynn, Chloe, and I walked down the street to Bret, Crew, and Tyler’s townhouse thirty minutes ago when the guys texted, saying they were bringing home an early dinner.
I watch Chloe move effortlessly around the kitchen as if she’s never left.
“Can you fly down and cook for me?” Bret whines from her barstool.
“I can teach you a few things,” Chloe answers, stirring a strawberry reduction in a saucepan.
“Really?” Bret’s voice doesn’t conceal her excitement.
Chloe chuckles. “Yeah. Or I can have my dad teach you a few basics?”
Bret’s eyes widen. “He’d do that?”
“He loves teaching the basics, especially for people who over salt their food.”
Bret groans. “You heard about that?”
“Yeah, the first time you cooked for the guys, you put so much salt on the asparagus they thought their kidneys were going to shut down.”
“Tyler is so dramatic,” Bret grumbles.
“If this cheesecake doesn’t slap, we’re revoking your food blog,” Brynn jokes, taking a sip of her margarita.
She made a pitcher of her famous lime margaritas when we arrived.
Lennon is nestled in the travel bassinet we’ve been carting everywhere, while Cleo sleeps in their pack-and-play, both girls tucked in Bret and Crew’s room.
Crew and Tyler are playing a video game in the living room, giving the four of us a chance to catch up. Bret transferred last year, but she was able to form a quick friendship with Chloe and Brynn before they graduated. With the girls sleeping, the energy in the kitchen is calm.
But with the sound of the front door opening, the energy shifts.
Brynn’s margarita sloshes as she straightens her spine like a lioness ready to pounce.
She doesn’t miss a beat, pointing a finger toward the entryway as the golfers spill in.
Their laughter fills the space, and my heart warms at seeing Grant so carefree.
“I swear to God, if any of you wake the babies, I’m leaving you with mine for the next forty-eight hours.”
Bret chokes on her sip. “Straight to the point. I’m here for it.”
“I give Cody five seconds before he forgets the warning. He has no clue what parenthood is like,” Chloe whispers.
I watch from my seat as the guys walk into the kitchen. “Wildflower, this isn’t your kitchen anymore.” He pauses, pressing a kiss to her temple before looking around the room. “Riggsby!”
“Jacobs!” Brynn hisses. “You wake them, you take them.”
Cody mimes zipping his mouth shut as Crew and Tyler join the group.
My eyes land on my husband as he claps Crew’s back.
He’s still in a CTU football polo, khaki shorts, and tennis shoes.
His hat has been flipped backwards, and I fully take him in, how sexy he is.
Our eyes meet across the kitchen, and my thighs clench at the sight of him.
His lips lift, but it’s not a full smile. It’s not the same smile he had when the three idiots came barreling through the door. It’s not the same smile he used to give me, before the baby, before this anxiety has me wound so tight.
“Hey,” he says softly, eyes flicking over me like he’s checking for signs of distress.
“Hey,” I echo. “Did you have fun today?”
He nods and leans down to kiss my cheek. The contact is brief, gentle, as if I’m a fragile sculpture waiting to break.
“Where do you want these?” Quinton asks as he raises the large paper bags from his favorite barbecue restaurant.
Bret looks around. “Wanna eat outside?”
“Let’s do it,” Crew answers, sliding open their patio door.
We spill out into the backyard, and nostalgia hits me.
When Brynn and Chloe lived in this townhouse, they’d host Sunday dinners—a way for all of us to gather throughout the school year over home-cooked meals.
I didn’t attend many, but I loved the ones I could make.
Paper plates are passed around the table while Quinton pulls out to-go containers.
My eyes widen at the amount of food he’s ordered.
Pulled pork, brisket, and pulled chicken.
Mashed potatoes and gravy, macaroni and cheese, baked beans, fresh green beans with ham, and sweet corn.
A huge container of cornbread. It’s a feast, but I guess we are feeding five athletes.
“How was golf?” I ask, scooping out a serving of macaroni and cheese.
Grant, Cody, and Quinton’s eyes bounce around each other before bursting into laughter.
“That good?” Brynn muses.
“I finally found Quinton Boyd’s weakness.” Cody chuckles. Heads whip in Q’s direction, and he shrugs.
“I don’t believe it,” Crew chimes in. “Q doesn’t have a weakness.”
“Years later, and you’re still obsessed with him,” Brynn jokes with a roll of her eyes. Crew had a little bro crush on Quinton during his freshman and sophomore years. He was like Q’s little puppy, always at his heels, watching everything he did.
Our conversation dies down as everyone eats. It’s always a good sign that the food is good when no one wants to pause their eating. From the corner of my eye, I watch as Cody leans into Brynn’s space. With his thumb, he dabs at her mouth.
“You’ve got a little sauce…right here,” he says, wiping it away from her face. “Can’t take you anywhere, Wilder.”
She blinks, then quirks her eyebrow at him. “Did you seriously just wipe my face with your thumb?”
He winks at her. Brynn laughs, and Quinton groans. “That better be the last time you touch my wife, or it’ll be the last thing you touch.”
“You’re so touchy, Q,” Cody says, totally unfazed. “I’m just keeping her looking like a smokeshow.”
Brynn blows him a kiss, and Quinton growls. “Watch it, Jacobs. You’re lucky I know your shit is harmless.”
“Mostly.” Brynn smirks.
Their banter is flirty and chaotic. It’s oddly comforting. I’ve missed this. The ease, the noise, the way we all pick up right where we left off.
Eventually, we clear the dinner table, and the girls wake up.
They’re passed around while we carry on with margarita refills as we watch the guys pull out cornhole boards.
Crew and Cody against Quinton and Grant.
The two grumps versus the two golden retrievers.
Tyler disappeared after dinner, claiming he had a new pregame ritual he had to do.
I think he’s off to get laid, and I’m disappointed he hasn’t brought her around to our chaos. But I’ll respect his privacy.
I wish I could feel that light again. But even in a room full of people, I feel heavy. The weight of the world is crippling me with unbearable pressure. One of these days, I’m going to snap and bring down everyone in my wake.
Brynn slides beside me, nudging a glass of water into my hands.
She must’ve sensed I was at my tequila limit, which is funny, because a few years ago, we didn’t have a limit.
We’d walk around parties with a bottle, dancing our hearts out.
I think that’s what happened the night we broke Quinton’s coffee table.
“You doing okay?” she whispers, eyes fixed on the yard.
I nod quickly, but she doesn’t call me out on it, just squeezes my arm. “We’re here. You don’t have to hold it all tonight.”
My throat tightens, and I nod again.
Laughter swirls around us as the guys joke. Bret talks about how excited she is for graduation and to see where Crew ends up. She’s already decided she’s going to follow him wherever he gets drafted. They’re planning a trip to Silo Bay, his hometown, for the summer.
“Wait, is that in Ohio?”
She nods. “Have you been?”
“No, but my aunt and cousin moved about an hour from there last winter when she got married. He has a boat that they take to Lake Drummond.”
“It’s beautiful. We should all plan a getaway.”
“A boat and a cold drink? Count me in.” Brynn laughs.
“I think that’s only a few hours from us.” Chloe smiles. “Look at us, planning our next trip.”
Bret asks Chloe what living in Ohio is like, and I listen in. We’re laughing again, and for a second, I almost feel like myself.
But when Brynn leans close, I can sense the dread forming before she opens her mouth.
“Grant knows about the house search,” she whispers, worry and care in her eyes as she searches mine.
My stomach sinks.
Everything was almost perfect.