Is it pathetic to think that yesterday was everything I didn’t know I needed from a guy I never thought I could trust?
The thought settles heavily in my chest, followed by a wave of anxiety.
He didn’t just wreck me physically; he wrecked me emotionally, too.
Jamie said he loved me, but I’m not sure if he meant it or if it was just in the heat of the moment.
I can admit last night felt like way more than sex. Jamie and I have this undeniable connection which goes deeper than just having a daughter together. I felt that same spark when we were in the library before Ella ever existed.
It’s the only reason I threw caution to the wind and slept with him that night.
But to call it love? That feels too much, too fast, and I worry the only reason he thinks that is because I’m the first thing he’s experienced since getting away from his father.
What’s going to happen when he really experiences freedom? The kind that doesn’t involve his daughter?
I bite my bottom lip, hoping the pain from that will stop the anxiety churning through my brain.
Can I trust him?
I blow out my breath and shake my head.
Why am I always so hell-bent on being unhappy?
Here I am with a guy who is doing everything he can to prove that he wants to stay, and I’m still waiting for him to leave.
Is it me? Can I not be happy?
Madison and Zach would say yes, but they haven’t been through what I have. Their family never left them. They’ve both been supported and are thriving.
I’m just a girl with a kid who is living with her cousin because she can’t afford to live on her own.
How can Jamie want that?
With a deep breath, I push all those thoughts aside and head out the door. There’s no point in dwelling on feelings and things I can’t change.
As I step out of the room, I freeze, cursing Zach under my breath for installing a giant-ass mirror right in front of my door.
I look like shit.
Messy hair, swollen lips, and eyes so wide, I look like I’m caught in headlights. I guess that’s how I feel after last night. A date with Reese, ending with Ella in a bath, and then being intimate with Jamie. It’s all too much for me.
Wrapping my hand around the banister, I head down the stairs, only to stop mid-track when I see what’s going on.
Jamie stands at the stove with his back to me, flipping what appears to be an animal-shaped pancake. He’s wearing Zach’s clothes, and his hair is still rumpled from sleep.
Meanwhile, Ella’s sitting on the island counter with syrup smeared across her cheeks as her feet dance against the cabinet. Her smile is wide as she watches him with rapt attention.
“You have to flip it really fast,” she's instructing seriously, “or Mr. Nibbles’ whiskers will get stuck.
“Like this?” Jamie asks, executing a perfect flip that has Ella clapping her hands in delight.
“Yes! You did it!”
“All thanks to your excellent teaching,” he says, sliding the pancake onto a plate already stacked with others. “Now, should we make one more for Mommy, or do you think she's going to sleep all day?”
“Mommy never sleeps all day,” Ella informs him with certainty. “She says sleeping is for people who don't have things to do.”
Jamie's shoulders stiffen slightly at that, and I can imagine his expression even though I can't see his face. It's another reminder of how much he's missed; how much he doesn't know about our daily lives.