Chapter Twenty Two #2
I lean back in the chair. “Seriously, though, Sera being around helps. Rhyan loves having someone close to her. And it helps Saint see her making those connections. Based on little things he’s told me, I don’t get the impression she had many friends outside of school.”
“Sera’s friends are pretty much players' kids or kids of staff here though. Once they go to school, it’ll be different.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“And you?” she asks.
I blink slowly. “What about me?”
“How are you doing, Pres?”
I don’t know why, but the question, even though my dad just asked me twenty minutes ago, makes me want to cry.
Maybe it’s because most people want to know about Saint and the kids. I’m the one usually answering for them.
“I’m okay,” I say.
Alie gives me a soft smile.
“I am,” I insist.
“Okay … ”
I hate that my sister knows me as well as she does. At least right now I do, anyway.
“Fine, I’m tired.”
“Understandably so.”
I tilt my head back and close my eyes. “And sometimes I feel like I’m living three lives at once.”
“That seems accurate.”
I laugh softly.
She shifts in her chair and picks up a pen, tapping it against her desk.
“What’s going on with the foundation?” she asks.
That question sends a small spark through me. Not an anxious spark, more like excited.
“I’ve had a few short meetings with the attorneys so far and have scheduled a meeting with them for next week,” I say. “I want to start the process of accessing the funds. Also, I want to have a clear understanding of the one-year part of the marriage clause.”
Alie’s face lights up. “Pres.”
“I know.”
“That’s going to be amazing for you.”
With everything going on, I sort of forgot about it until we were talking to some parents at Remy’s last game, and they were talking about hockey camps. I scheduled the meeting for the next day.
“It is pretty amazing, isn’t it? I can’t wait to start planning—maybe not the construction part of it, but the athletics.”
I glance down at my ring.
The foundation wasn’t the primary reason I married Saint, but because of it, my own dreams are becoming a reality.
I look up and see Alie watching me.
“Does that feel weird?” she asks.
“What?” I ask like I don’t know.
“That the marriage helps with the trust too?”
I answer honestly. “Maybe a little, but not in a bad way, if that makes sense.”
“No?”
“No.” I turn the ring slightly on my finger. “It’s not why I married him. You know that.”
“I do know.” She nods.
“I think …” I pause, searching for the right words. “I think Savannah would have liked the idea.”
Alie smiles softly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, I think she would have. And her kids being part of it one day, Saint helping. It feels … connected somehow.”
“I never really talked to her all that much when she came for games, but I’ve also been chasing a toddler around the last few years. And I was in school, then college, when Saint started playing for us. But she seemed really nice.”
“She was. God, she was just a kid when I met her. Even though I know it’s real, it’s hard to believe she’s gone.”
Alie lets the moment sit for a minute.
“And how are things with Saint?”
I smirk. “You couldn’t wait to ask me that.”
“I waited until it fit into the conversation.”
“Heroic restraint.”
She grins. “Stop stalling.”
“It’s good.”
“Just good?” she deadpans.
“Yes.”
“So you marry the man you’ve pretty much been secretly in love with for years, and it’s just good?”
“What are you talking about? I haven’t been secretly in love with Saint.”
She raises her brows. “Oh, really?”
I glare at her.
She leans forward. “I’m not wrong.”
“You’re annoying, is what you are.”
“Maybe, but I know I’m right.”
I look away, which probably tells us both more than anything coming out of my mouth right now.
“Fine.” I sigh. “It just all feels so natural.”
Alie’s teasing fades into something gentler. “How so?”
“I don’t know. Everything happened so fast, and I think I’ve just been on autopilot,” I say. “Maybe it should feel strange. Being married, living there, sharing his bed, helping with the kids … but it doesn’t.”
“You haven’t second-guessed your decision at all?”
I shake my head slowly. “No.”
I think this might be the first time I’ve given it much real thought, and definitely the first time I’ve put it into words.
“Do you think about the fact that things might change once all your funds are distributed after the year is up?”
I just stare at her, not really sure how to answer. So, I settle on, “I know it’s part of the trust, but I don’t feel like I need to hand him divorce papers after the year is up.”
Alie smiles.
I look down, feeling suddenly exposed.
“Why are you smiling like that? Don’t make that face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you’re pleased with yourself.”
“I’m not pleased with myself. I’m pleased for you.”
“Worse.”
She laughs, stands, and rounds her desk. “Come sit on the couch with me.”
I roll my eyes, but there’s warmth in my chest.
When I sit, she turns her body toward mine, tucking her feet under her legs.
“And you two are …” she asks carefully. “Are you … actually together?”
“You mean, sleeping together?”
She puts her arm on the back of the couch and touches my shoulder. “That’s part of my question, yes.”
“Then that answer is yes.”
Alie’s eyes widen slightly.
I shake my head. “There you go, making things weird again.”
“I do not make things weird.”
I laugh despite myself.
“No details?”
“You don’t give me details about your and Liam’s sex life.”
“Well, no, but you’ve seen Liam naked. You know what’s going on down there.”
“If you’re only asking if he’s as gorgeous naked as he is in person, then yes. But I knew that before I started sleeping with him.” I wink playfully.
“So I bet it’s mindblowing?” She drops her head back and sighs. “God bless football players.”
“Indeed. Their stamina is unmatched.”
We look at each other and laugh.
“I’m happy for you, Pres.”
“For having a good sex life?”
“Well, yes, but you deserve this. And so does he.”
I suck in a deep breath, taking in her words. This marriage could end in a year. And the thought of that makes my stomach sour.
Alie brightens. “You guys should come over for dinner tonight.”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I need to run by my place. Now that the weather is getting warmer, I need to get some more clothes.”
Her brows lift. “Mmhmm.”
“What now?”
She smiles wide. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Alie.”
“When was the last time you slept in your own bed?”
I open my mouth. Then close it.
“Interesting.”
“That’s not—” I stop.
Because I don’t even know what I was going to say to that, honestly.
It’s not what it looks like?
It’s exactly what it looks like. I’ve been living with Saint for months. Sure, at first it was because he needed comfort. He needed me. And then the kids, and now we’re married.
But now … it’s because I want to be there. I can’t imagine not being there.
Instead of telling her that though, I answer simply, “I still need clothes.”
“Right.”
“And shoes.”
“Naturally.”
I give her a flat look.
She holds up her hands. “What? I didn’t say anything.”
“Your face did.”
“Okay, fine,” she says. “Go get your spring wardrobe from the apartment you haven’t stayed in since January.”
“Glad you’re keeping track for me.”
I stand, grabbing my tablet and the folder of medical notes.
Alie stands to walk me to the door. “Pres.”
I look at her.
She pulls me in for a hug. “I’m really glad this is working out. Despite the loss, you both seem happy.”
Alie’s not wrong. Yes, I’m tired and get overwhelmed sometimes. And Saint and the kids are still grieving, but in quieter ways.
But I guess we’re all … happy. Which feels strange to say.
Instead of answering her, I squeeze her gently.
“I’ll call you later.” I open the door. “Love you.”
“Love you more, Pres.”
It’s four o’clock by the time I leave. The ride to my apartment isn’t long, but it feels strange to be going in the opposite direction. Like I’m going backward or something. Or like I’m returning to a place that still belongs to me on paper, but no longer matches the shape of my life.
The building looks the same. My key still works.
Because of course it does.
Inside, everything is exactly like I left it in January after I packed up and went to Saint. Anything else I’ve needed, I just bought.
There’s still my coffee mug from that morning in the dish rack. A stack of medical journals on the side table. My bed is made. My closet, half open from my rushing. It looks like my life was put on pause.
I haven’t slept in my own bed in months. Months.
Somewhere along the way, needing to be there for Saint and the kids turned into choosing to be there.
I walk slowly into the bedroom and straight to the closet. I find one of my Louis Vuitton suitcases, open it, and set it on the floor. I pull out warmer-weather clothes—blouses, shorts, lighter pants, and a pair of sandals.
I’m going through the motions, but my mind is on Saint.
The way he reaches for me in his sleep.
And the sound of Remy knocking on the door early on Saturday mornings.
Rhyan busting in without knocking because she has no boundaries.
I move to the bathroom next, but realize there’s nothing I need in here. My toothbrush already sits beside Saint’s. My shampoos and soaps are in his shower. The small amount of makeup I wear is in a drawer I’ve claimed as my own.
This isn’t my home anymore, and it hasn’t been for a while. I look around the room and appreciate the beauty of it. It’s clean, organized, and … mine. But I feel like a stranger in my own home.
My life is at Saint’s now.
I press a hand to my chest.
What did it mean that I have built my whole adult life around independence, and now the place I want to be most is in a house full of people who need me?
Pretty sure I know the answer, but I’m not sure I can say it.
Because then it would be real. And real means vulnerable. It means that if something goes wrong, I have more to lose than I’ve ever allowed myself before.
I look at my ring and smile, thinking about our courthouse wedding and the vows and the pact and … the foundation.
Maybe this is it. Standing in my old life and realizing I’ve already left it.
Not because Saint asked me to. But because my heart has moved.