“Worth every penny if it means more cookies.” He winks, then points to a breakfast nook tucked into a bay window. “Perfect spot for morning coffee, don't you think? The sun hits it just right around seven.”
I walk over, touching the small round table. “It's nice.”
It is nice.Toonice. It feels like something perfectly crafted to lure me in.
I can picture Zach here, sure, but me? Would I be repeating the same patterns, letting a man define my existence?
Jamie’s voice echoes in my mind, sharp and uninvited.
“Do you ever stop and think, ‘Is this it? Is this all we’re supposed to wish for in life?’”
He said it once, so casually, over one of those stupid dinners our fathers insisted we attend. It was back when I still believed we were happy. At the time, I’d brushed it off as him being philosophical. It was the kind of fleeting thought you throw out there when you’re bored or restless.
Now I wonder if it was a warning. That he was already halfway gone, and I wasn’t enough. That the life our parents built for uswas never his, and I was too busy pretending not to notice to actually see it for what it was.
“Through here—” Zach says, opening a door off the kitchen, “—means no more fighting for machines in the dorm basement.” It’s a laundry room with not one but two washer-dryer units.
“You mean I won’t have to worry about someone leaving my wet clothes on top of the machine?” I ask, pretending to be shocked.
“Unless I’m the reason those panties are wet, then no.”
He grins wickedly, his eyes gleaming as he gently guides me back into the main hallway. We walk in step, and he pushes open a door to a spacious bedroom with pale blue walls and a bay window with a cushioned seat. There's a queen bed and a dresser, but otherwise it's mostly empty.
“This is going to be Tiff's room,” he explains. “Thought I'd let her pick what she wants to do in here.”
I walk to the window, gazing out at the quiet side yard, knowing Tiff is going to love this room when she gets here.Ifshe gets here.
“How’s she holding up?” I ask, turning back to face him.
Over the past year, Tiff has slipped into my life without even trying. She and Zach are connected at the hip thanks to her daughter Ella, and I can understand why he’s so protective of them. Tiff’s had it rough with her parents, and she’s still managed to keep fighting through everything.
“She’s okay,” he says, his jaw tight. “The court DNA tests came back and proved Jamie is Ella’s father. Not that we didn’t already know that.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Ish. Gets the case moving, but now they’re using it to try to get full custody of Ella.”
I blow out a breath, shocked. “But Ella’s never even met them.”
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Zach's phone vibrates in his pocket, but he ignores it. I try not to think about who might be texting him.
“Yeah. Her lawyers say it's just a power play. They’re hoping to pressure her into signing an NDA and taking a payout, but she’s not going for it.”
“But if she signs it, then she’ll be able to move on from the Nicks’ family and completely forget about Jamie.”
Zach gives me a look. One I feel all the way in my chest.
“If she does that, then she’s legally never allowed to mention Jamie to Ella. Ever. His name would be sealed in court, so when Ella’s older, if she wants to find her dad, she won’t be able to. Not legally, anyway.”
My brows knit. “That makes no sense. Wouldn’t she still be able to figure it out? Through another DNA test or… I don’t know, the internet?”
Zach shrugs. “The Nicks had their DNA records blocked. They paid someone to scrub their info from any of those databases. Didn’t your parents do the same thing?”
I nod slowly, realizing how weird that actually is. My parents paid for privacy. For protection. For control, and I never questioned it, until now.
“So… Jamie doesn't want anything to do with Ella?” I ask quietly, still in disbelief.