Rules for Dating Your Ex

by Piper Rayne

  “I’m so sorry.” The words tumble out on their own.

  “You need to stop saying that. I know you are, but it changes nothing. I can’t be with you again.” Sedona braces her hands on either side of the chair and rises slowly as though every inch of her hurts.

  She disappears into the kitchen. It’s not like we can have a conversation between rooms, so I rise from the couch and join her. She’s pulling out a bag of her favorite potato chips from the cabinet.

  “I am though, and just because I say it doesn’t mean I’m asking for a second chance.”

  She chomps down on a chip and raises her eyebrows.

  “Well yeah, I’d do about anything to win you over, but I’m saying it because I honestly am sorry. If I could turn back time…” I shake my head, listening to Merrick’s words in my head about how we can’t go back and right our wrongs. We have to own them. “I fucked up my life. But I’m here now to help you. All I ask is for you to give me the chance.”

  Her head is already shaking.

  “Not us,” I add. “I mean, I want there to be an us, but if that’s off the table, I can’t change your mind. Palmer needs a dad, and I plan on stepping up to fill that role. Either we do this together or separate, but I’m going to be part of her life.”

  Her shoulders fall, and she stares at me as though she wishes a train would come and run me over.

  As though Palmer wants a say in our conversation, we hear a bang in her room.

  Sedona drops the chips and heads toward Palmer’s room. I end up in front of her and open the door to find Palmer smiling and banging her hands on the edge of the crib.

  I turn and ask Sedona, “May I get her?”

  “Isn’t that the whole reason you’re still here?”

  I disregard her sneer and pick up Palmer. She pats my cheeks with both hands, and I smile. She’s so beautiful. Then I realize my forearm is getting wetter the longer I hold her.

  I look at Sedona and she laughs. “Well, Daddy, time for a diaper change and change of clothes. Plus, her sheets have to be washed now. Still ready to tackle this daddy role head-on?”

  Her eyes hold the same challenge they did when we were seventeen and she dared me to skinny dip in the pond on the Bailey property. Just like I dove in buck naked that day without hesitation, I’m tackling this new role with the same enthusiasm.

  She steps into the room and pats the changing table. “Lay her down here.” I follow her directions. “Just strip her down to her diaper. We’ll have to clean everything.”

  It’s like disrobing a tiger. Palmer doesn’t make it easy on me. Not that I can complain when she’s smiling.

  “I think she likes us together,” I say to Sedona.

  She blows out a breath, turning toward the dresser. “She’s always happy after her nap. That’s the whole point of putting her down for one.”

  “This happy?” I tickle Palmer’s stomach and her mouth falls open and she giggles.

  “Yep.” She sets a new set of clothes next to the table. “Grab a diaper from there and lay it right in front of her open legs. Now take off the old one and put the new one under.”

  I do as she says.

  “Now use the wipes to clean her up—always front to back, never back to front.” Palmer isn’t having it, so Sedona grabs Palmer’s ankles and holds them up. “Like this.”

  “How on Earth do you have enough hands?”

  She giggles but stops abruptly. “I’ve done it enough times to be an expert.”

  I nod, concentrating on wiping. Palmer squirms from the coldness of the wipe. “Sorry, baby girl.”

  “Now pull the sides up and fasten each one.”

  I do, but the diaper is way too loose. Sedona reaches over me to pull the tabs off and refasten them tighter. I inhale her scent when she leans in front of me. Although she doesn’t smell like I remember. Her scent is a different scent now, but it arouses me all the same.

  “There you go.” She turns before she’s all the way standing up.

  Our eyes lock with our faces inches apart, and I swallow the lump in my mouth. This is the closest I’ve been to her since she left me. I’d do anything to break the distance, press my lips to hers and discover if she tastes different now.

  She clears her throat and rears back. “Now the clothes. Just like dressing yourself. I’m sure you’ve got this. I’ll prepare a snack for her.” She walks gingerly out of the room.

  Palmer raises her hand. Daddy.

  My heart lurches, because I might have told Sedona I was here for Palmer—and I am, no matter what—but I’d give up everything I own to have one more shot with Sedona.

  Fifteen

  Sedona

  I don’t stop until I reach the kitchen. My hand covers my racing heart while I gather my nerves together. My body was urging me to feel him, touch him, kiss him. To feel with certainty that he’s really here and asking for a second chance. How many nights did I pray that he’d return to me?

  He smells so good. Not like me, who just gave birth and whose boobs are already busting at the seams to pump again. These hormones must be playing tricks on me. There’s no way I could actually still want the man who essentially abandoned me while I was pregnant.

  I pull out some cheese and grapes, fixing a plate for Palmer.

  Hearing the story of what spurred him to go into therapy made me feel guilty. Should I have tried harder to help him while we were still together? In the months leading up to the breakup, I tried getting rid of the alcohol, asked friends to talk to him. I felt like I did everything I could, and in the end, I didn’t want our daughter to be raised in that environment. Still, as I pull the box of crackers from the shelf, my mind travels back to the day I finally had enough.

  * * *

  The apartment door opens while I’m shoving my makeup bag into my suitcase. Unease settles into my stomach and my phone dings.

  Phoenix: The plane is at the airport. Follow the instructions I gave you.

  Me: (thumbs up emoji)

  I hear Jamison run into something and mumble a curse word. He never came home last night. It isn’t the first time. And if I were staying, I’m sure it wouldn’t be the last. He ends up at Johnny’s way too often. At first, I thought being around his buddies from the team would help him, but all he does over there is drink even more.

  After zipping up my suitcase, I walk out of our bedroom. The one we just redid into something gender-neutral. I stop in the hallway outside the second bedroom. The crib box rests in the corner, unfinished, the sample paint squares side by side on the wall. Leaving my suitcase at the doorway, I step in and take the small New York Storm jersey Jamison bought the night I told him I was pregnant.

  I waited a month and told him right before a game. He was thrilled because he said his plan was all coming together. He was back from his injury and starting in the game that night, and now he was going to be a father. He promised me dinner, just the two of us, and a night of lovemaking to celebrate. But we spent that night in the emergency room. Him getting MRIs and hearing the worst news possible when it came to his career.

  I fold and stuff the small jersey into the front of my suitcase, needing the memory that at one point in our life, he loved our baby.

  The wheels on my suitcase slide along the floor, and Jamison’s feet hang off the couch while a soccer game plays on the television. It’s always one soccer game after another, as if he’s torturing himself for not being on that field.

  I place the latest ultrasound picture on the kitchen table. Peeking over the couch, his eyes are closed and his clothes are wrinkled and stained. Where did that boy I fell in love with disappear to? Tears puddle in my eyes, watching his chest rise and fall. I haven’t seen a genuine smile on his beautiful face in months.

  “I’ll never stop loving you,” I murmur, reaching to touch him one final time.

  But I pull back because if I wake him, I’ll cower. I’ll stay, and I can’t do that to our daughter. She deserves more than this. So instead I step bac
k, one step at a time, until I’m at the door. Inhaling a final breath, I soak in the apartment that holds so many good memories—having sex on every surface, the celebrations of games won, coming home to him in the kitchen trying to make my favorite dishes, me seducing him while he watched game tapes for hours.

  There are dark memories here too though—the nights spent pacing when he didn’t answer his phone, the fights about his drinking, the broken bottle I threw against the wall, the untrusting version of myself who searched his phone for any evidence that he was cheating on me. But I push those memories aside because that isn’t us. That’s not Jamison and me. We had years of happiness before we had all those months.

  I walk out, shutting the door quietly. Outside the door, my feet stop as if they’re stuck in tar. My hand runs down my belly. Is it right to take her away from him? Maybe I’m a horrible person. Then by the elevator, I spot an empty bottle of whiskey with a piece of paper beside it. Crouching, I pick up the bottle. It’s Jamison’s favorite brand, and the piece of paper has a name and number in a girly scrawl.

  I drop the bottle, press the down button, and when the elevator arrives, I don’t look back.

  I’m making the right decision. I just have to make peace with it.

  * * *

  Two little arms wrap around my legs and squeeze. I glance down to see Palmer all changed and grinning. Jamison is right—she’s happier when he’s here. Like some wish she’s been dreaming of was granted.

  I touch her back, impatient to be able to pick her up and hold her close. Taking her plate, I sign for her to come to the table and place the plate down in her spot, then I bend to pick her up.

  “Whoa, I’ll do that.” Jamison swoops up Palmer and places her in her high chair. He figures out the buckles without any help from me.

  He pretends to steal a cracker from her, and she claps with a huge smile. Dread fills my body. She’s going to prefer him over me soon.

  A knock lands on the apartment door, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more thankful to have an interruption. I open the door and Calista walks in with Dion, the two of them beelining it to Palmer’s chair and sidling up next to her. Rome follows with an upset Phoebe in his arms.

  “Where’s Linus?” I ask, wondering what’s under the foil-covered dish in Rome’s hand.

  “A mommy and me class or something. Harley’s worried about not getting enough time with Linus.” He heads to the kitchen.

  Phoebe slides into a chair and mopes.

  “Hence the reason Phoebe looks like her hamster got flushed down the toilet. She wanted to go with them,” he adds.

  “I wanted to go to the park,” she says, crossing her arms and huffing.

  Rome rolls his eyes. He hasn’t acknowledged Jamison’s presence yet, but he hasn’t cussed him out either, so baby steps.

  Calista signs hi, how are you? to Palmer. She’s just learning some sign language, but I love that she’s trying. Everyone has gotten on board.

  “Did I tell you that Harley signed up Dion and Calista for sign language classes? Maverick is going too.”

  “That’s awesome,” I say, suppressing the urge to cry. Just the thought of how supportive my family has been, brings tears to my eyes.

  “You can sign really fast,” Calista says to Jamison.

  He must have been signing something to Palmer. My attention moves to the table and off Rome.

  “I probably started learning around your age. Maybe younger,” Jamison says, signing everything he’s saying.

  Palmer stares at her father as if he’s her idol. Rome pokes my side and shakes his head, reading my thoughts.

  “I have a great idea! How about Jamison takes everyone to the park?” Rome claps his hands.

  Jamison’s eyes widen. “Umm…”

  “You’ll need to bond with the kids anyway. Plus, Calista will show you the way.” Rome slides out the chair Phoebe is in.

  “Are you sure? All of them?” Jamison keeps looking at me, and I stifle a laugh.

  “Calista is responsible,” Rome says.

  Palmer kicks the high chair to get out, seeing that everyone is leaving. Dion unhooks her and he tries to lift her out, but Jamison helps. Rome and I work as a team to shuffle them all out of the apartment with promises of being right behind them.

  As we shut the door, I laugh and clench my stomach because laughter makes it ache. “You’re cruel.”

  Rome chuckles and puts the foil-covered dish in the fridge. “I put the instructions on top for you. Mac and cheese.”

  “Thanks.” I clean up Palmer’s dish and head to the kitchen sink.

  Rome washes his hands and leans against the counter, drying his hands with a towel. “Why don’t you sit down and take it easy? You’re doing too much.”

  Even though my abdomen aches, I wave him off. “I’m fine.”

  “Seems like Jamison really wants to be involved. I’m jealous of his signing abilities.”

  I glance over my shoulder. Rome bears that look. The one that says he drove them out to have a chat. Rome’s a great secret-keeper, the only one in our family really. I trust him, but I’m not ready yet to open up. “Yeah, he says he wants another chance.”

  “With you?”

  “Palmer.” I take the towel and dry my hands, leaning against the opposite counter.

  Rome raises his eyebrows. “Only Palmer?”

  “I’m not available.”

  He nods and looks around. “You got some fuck buddy I don’t know about?”

  “No. I’m not available to Jamison.”

  A smirk tilts his lips. “You’ve been available to Jamison forever. Can I offer some advice?”

  “No.”

  He chuckles. “It’s hard to bond with your daughter when you’ve already missed so much.”

  “It’s hardly the same thing, Rome.” If he thinks he’s going to compare his scenario to mine, I’ll list the million reasons they’re different. The first one being that Harley couldn’t find Rome. Jamison knew where I was the whole time.

  “Different circumstances, sure, but you find yourself in the same situation, right? I mean, here we have a little girl who just discovered she has a daddy. Maybe you should talk to Harley, or maybe it’s not the same for you, but she struggled when I started to become close to Calista. She feared I’d take her away. I could’ve been pissed off at Harley for not trying hard enough to find me, but what would be the point of bringing more animosity into an already difficult situation? Instead we got over our shit, and look, we’re so damn happy we can’t stop having kids.”

  “You could slow it down a little.”

  He shrugs, and his emerging big smile makes me narrow my eyes. No way Harley is pregnant again?

  He holds up his hands. “All I’m saying is the guy did a shit thing, but damn, we’ve all done stupid shit. No one is perfect. But he realized his mistakes and is trying to get on a better path.”

  My lips purse. “He left his daughter.”

  Rome tilts his head with an expression to say stop being such a martyr. “Technically, you took her from him.”

  “Hey, you’re my brother.”

  He laughs and holds up his hands again. “Listen, take this advice for what it’s worth. You can do this the long way or avoid more pain and heartbreak and do it the short way.”

  “What?”

  “Well, you can try to fight your feelings for Jamison if you want—but we’re not stupid, Sedona, you’ve loved that boy your entire life. You didn’t leave him because you stopped loving him. It’s still clear every time you look at him. I know he hurt you—badly—and he needs to make amends with you, but he’s on a better path now.”

  I wave my hand to keep the lecture moving.

  “All I’m saying is, you can deny your feelings all you want, but I think you’re setting yourself up for failure. No one is going to judge you for loving him.”

  I cock an eyebrow.

  He crosses his arms. “If Phoenix has a problem, she can talk to me.”
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br />   “And King?”

  “Kingston is a puppy dog acting like a pit bull. He’ll fold. He views Jamison like a brother. We all kind of do.”

  He’s saying what I’ve always known. Jamison has been in and out of my family for so long that those attachments are still there.

  “Trust me. For Palmer’s sake, allow him in. You don’t have to get back together with him, but you have to forgive him. If you don’t, Palmer will likely resent you one day for not liking her daddy. She’ll feel it—if she doesn’t see it through body language and the way you two talk to one another.” He’s silent a moment. “You know, it’s funny. When I came back from Europe, I was a little jealous of you and Jamison. You guys had this friendship and respect for one another, along with your relationship. And you were only seventeen. It’s still there. Let him make amends for his bad choices.”

  I nod, though I’m unsure if I’m capable of doing it, especially with my hormones all out of whack.

  “Now let’s get to the park. Harley’s easygoing, but if she finds out I left three of her kids with a guy who just discovered fatherhood, she might have my balls, and I’m not ready for a vasectomy.” He opens the door and waits for me.

  I follow and decide Rome is right. I have to stop living in the past and move forward—for Palmer’s sake at the very least.

  Sixteen

  Jamison

  The rental car place isn’t that busy, thank goodness, because I want to get to the fire station before Kingston goes on shift. Of course it has to be his engine company that offers free car seat installation checks. Yesterday was the perfect opportunity for me to switch out this car, but Sedona needed me, and she’ll always come first now, after Palmer.