“I like you, Travis,” she confesses, stealing the breath from my lungs. “I know you don’t think of me that way, and that’s OK. But I also can’t hide it from you either,” she continues slowly.
I pull in a stuttered breath and open my mouth to speak, but she puts her hand up, stopping me. “Don’t say anything. I don’t expect anything. I know you still love your wife.” Her saying that is like a knife to the heart. “And that’s OK too. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not in a rush. But know that if you ever think you could possibly care about someone again, I’d like you to consider me.” She gives me a shy smile before she presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “Goodnight, Travis.”
“Night.” The word comes out rough and gravelly. I watch her walk home as I’m left thinking about her confession.
I guess I already suspected she had feelings of some sort for me, but I didn’t expect her to come out and just say it like that.
How do I feel about her?
She asked me to consider her, but there’s nothing to consider.
Is there?
Once inside, I reach for a letter I’ve been dreading. Someone Caught Your Eye, Huh?
You noticed a woman today, huh? Well, I hope she was worth it, you asshole!
Laugh, Travis. It was a joke. You’re allowed to notice women, or men if you changed your swinging direction; I’m not here to judge.
Seriously, baby, stop feeling guilty. You are human. You are a man. You are a gorgeous man. I guarantee women are noticing you.
I don’t expect you to stay celibate forever. I don’t expect you to become a monk either. Remember, we had a deal. You live.
So, get out there, stud! Tell me about this woman. Was she blonde? Or have your tastes changed? Let me guess… she’s the opposite of me and now you’re questioning what the hell that means.
Travis, listen to me. Go look at the pretty ladies. I’ll high-five you in your sleep and only be mildly jealous. Promise.
Always,
Josie
TILLY
Minutes After Confessing
I can’t believe I opened my mouth and told him all that. Consider me? Who says that to a grieving widower?!
The ruiner of all families, that’s who.
When will I learn?
I don’t get to be loved.
I don’t get a happily ever after.
I don’t get a real family.
Chapter Ten
Travis
Nine Years After Josie
Fuck. Me.
Penny has become a woman.
She came home from school crying, and I pushed her right into Tilly’s house and closed the door as soon as the word period came out of her mouth and she wasn’t talking about a class.
Sure, I know what this means. I sort of lived through it with Tatum and Josie, but it’s not the same. Definitely not the same.
I’m scanning the aisle at the store where there are boxes and packages of all shapes and sizes, and I have no idea where to start. I text Tilly asking her what I should get. Thank God she sends me a picture, and I see the match on the shelf. I grab five boxes of pads. Puke. A heating pad, a bottle of pain relievers, a bag of chips, and one of every kind of candy bar they sell.
The girl at the checkout gives me a smile, and I wonder if it’s a “good job” smile or a “you’re screwed” smile. I worry my bottom lip in my teeth as she rings me up and gives me another smile, handing me my bags.
I don’t even bother knocking on Tilly’s door when I get back, storming inside. Jesse starts to ask what I got, but when he sees the box of woman stuff through the plastic bag, he puts his hands up in surrender. Me too, kid. Me too.
Penny, standing at the opposite end of the couch from Jesse, wraps her arms around me when she sees me. “Thanks, Daddy.”
I kiss her head, and all the worry I had that I just ruined my daughter washes away. “You want to stay here or go home?”
“Movie night?” she asks me.
“You got it, LP.”
I thank Tilly, knowing that I owe her big time. She assures me it was fine and not a big deal. I hope that’s true. It’s not the first time I’ve panicked and come running to Tilly, shoving Penny at her to help fix what I couldn’t.
Since she told me of her feelings toward me, we haven’t talked about it. I haven’t given her any indication that I’m there at all. Truth is it scares me. I can see myself opening up to Tilly and that petrifies me. I’m not ready for that. Not yet.
For now, I’m good with us being neighbors, friends, and helping each other with the kids.. I need it to stay that way for now. I just… can’t.
* * *
“I can’t believe I did it,” Tilly tells me with tears in her eyes as she spins around in a circle inside her bakery/café she’s opening tomorrow, Sugar Stacked.
“Don’t cry now.” I smile at her. “You’ve been a badass bitch boss with this whole thing up to now. Don’t tell me that was all a show,” I tease.
She pinches her finger and thumb together to show a little bit while scrunching her nose. “Little bit.”
I bark a laugh, walking around the space to take it all in now that everything’s in place. I’ve helped her navigate through a lot of the paperwork side of it, but this is all Tilly.
“You nervous about the opening?”
She nods slowly, biting her lips between her teeth. “Petrified.”
“That’s how I felt the first time I had to pay bills at Pretty Girl after it became mine. You’ll do fine.”
“What if I don’t? What if no one comes? Or the town hates it? What if the food sucks?”
“That,” I say, pointing to her, “I know would be a lie. You are an amazing baker, Cookie. You got this. Be confident.”
She blows out a breath. “Yeah.”
“Bake for me,” I say, and she tips her head to the side like I’m crazy.
“I don’t mean right now. I mean, tomorrow. When the doors open and the nerves start, think of it like you’re baking for me and Penny and Jesse. No one else.”
“But you’ll be here, right?” she asks, sounding a little panicked.
“Please, I installed all those shelves and hung all those fucking pictures of cookies you insisted hang on the walls. I need to know that was for something. Someone’s gotta appreciate my hanging skills.”
She laughs then, finally seeming to relax some. “Thank you, Travis. Thanks for believing I could do this.”
“I never doubted it. Or you,” I add, bopping her nose. She swats my hand away, but I catch her wrist. She gasps as I press her back until she hits the wall, her wrist still in my grasp above her head. “Cookie…”
She leans forward and kisses me once. It’s quick, and then she searches my eyes, waiting for my next move.
I swallow and close my eyes. “I can’t…” I start, letting her wrist go and leaning my head against hers with my hands on either side, bracing my weight on the wall.
Her hands snake into my hair, and I like the feel of them on me more than I want to.
“It’s OK. I’m not going anywhere,” she whispers.
Lifting my head, I stare into her brown eyes that are captivating me. “I’m sorry.”
“There is nothing to apologize for.”
“I don’t know when I’ll be ready. Which is fucked up. It’s been nine years.” Why can’t I just kiss the beautiful woman whose hands feel good, who cares about my daughter and me?
“You know, I really did just want to show you the place before tomorrow’s opening,” she says, sliding out from being caged between the wall and me. “Pervert,” she teases over her shoulder, walking back into the kitchen.
I drop my head with a shake, laughing.
If I’m capable of loving another woman, I hope it can be Tilly Lane.
* * *
I’m fucking exhausted. Mentally, emotionally… Ollie, Tatum, Penny and I went to the pond, just the four of us, to celebrate Josie’s birthday. She would have been fifty today. And she woul
d fucking hate it.
The day itself was good. It’s been a while since just the four of us have been together. Bex had to work at the hospital, and Benton is racing across the world. Ollie always takes the day off to spend with me. Tatum is usually a wild card, but with her expecting again, she’s been staying at their house in Graves with the kids. I took Penny out of school today so we could have the day together. I don’t usually do stuff like that; hell, I don’t take many days off from the garage myself, but I did.
We ate our ice cream on her bench and talked about her and to her. We all danced with the grass under our feet as ducks tried to cut in, but Tate said it was probably Josie’s anger for not being there with us. Then, Ollie joked about her being grumpy as an old lady who was now half a century old.
I’m out back now, lying in Josie’s lounger, staring at the stars. I just read one of her letters, and I want to burn it and never read it again. My Birthday, it’s labeled as.
OK, I know birthdays are hard. I also know that you never understood the importance of celebrating them. Here’s how we’re going to go forward…
Penny: You better celebrate the shit out of her and give her whatever kind of party she wants. End of discussion.
You: You better celebrate the shit out of your life. Because you deserve to be celebrated each and every day.
Me: Stop. Just don’t, baby. It’ll get to be too hard or annoying or whatever. I want you to keep celebrating, not going back to a dark time. Forget my birthday and move on.
Celebrate everyone else’s lives but not mine. Not in this way anyway. You have to be able to move forward, not backward.
Now, I know you, so how many have you celebrated that you’re still reading this? Did I reach fifty in your mind yet? Because if I did and you’re still celebrating, that means you don’t listen. Stop, baby. It’s not healthy.
Celebrate our life in other ways on other days. Don’t memorialize my birthday. I was just one person in a sea of many. I hope you’re meeting more people worth celebrating. I’m celebrating you enough to last a thousand lifetimes. Now, I sound hypocritical, huh?
I love you. I know you love me. I miss you. I know you miss me. Now, go be happy.
Always,
Josie
Forget her? She was clearly high on meds when she wrote this one. I scoff thinking about her words. Balling up the paper, I throw it, hearing it hit the glass door, frustrated for the first time in a long time with my deceased wife.
“You alright?” I hear Tilly ask. I close my eyes, willing her to leave me alone, but she doesn’t. Instead, she sits at my feet.
“You should go back home,” I grunt to her. Of course, she doesn’t listen. “Go fucking home, Tilly!” I yell at her after a while, standing up and walking out into the yard to get some distance from her. But she follows me instead of listening. Again. “Why can’t you listen?”
“Because you obviously need someone to talk to.”
I huff and shake my head in frustrated annoyance. “I’m not talking to you about this.”
“Are you having a hard day? Because of her?” she asks quietly.
My anger pings even with her soft, gentle, caring tone. I turn around, narrowing my eyes on her. “Don’t,” I grit out.
“Why will you talk to everyone else about her but me?” she pushes.
“It is none of your fucking business.”
“Right,” she huffs and turns to leave me alone like I wanted.
“I don’t talk about her to anyone but my family. And I sure as shit am not going to start with you.”
“What have I done to make you think I would be anything but compassionate and understanding? I only want you to let me in, Travis. I don’t need anything in return. I’m only trying to help. I hate seeing you hurt. I wish I could take some of it away or ease your pain in some way. But you won’t let me.” She turns and starts to walk away again, and I hate myself for letting her leave, but I also hate myself for wanting her to stay.
I fight myself but finally say, “Today’s her birthday.”
“Is that why Penny didn’t go to school?”
I nod. “Yeah, we all celebrated her birthday today.”
“How old would she have been?” I wince at her wording… would she have been.
“Fifty,” I say, a small smile threatening at the corner of my mouth when I see Tilly’s eyes go wide. “Yeah, she was older than me.”
“I knew that, but I didn’t realize… I thought… I don’t know what I thought,” she laughs, shaking her head.
“I fell in love with my best friend’s mom. I’ve loved her since I was sixteen. Told her when I was nineteen, finally convinced her the rest of the world didn’t matter and to be with me when I was twenty-one, married her when I was twenty-three, became a dad at twenty-four, and lost the love of my life at twenty-six. I’ve spent the last nine years mourning the loss of her, and I don’t know if I will ever stop.
“Yet, she wants me to stop celebrating her and her birthday. Can you believe that shit? She keeps saying she wants me to live and be happy, but she doesn’t understand that I don’t know how to do the two together without her. I’m living, I’m trying to be happy, but it’s so damn hard to do without her. She died when her heart stopped, but mine stopped too. It doesn’t beat the same without her here. She was my entire world. Or she was until Penny entered our universe. She is my always.”
I finally stop rambling and look over to Tilly. She’s got tears streaming down her cheeks that I only see from the glow of the moon.
“I’m sorry, Tilly. I tried to tell you. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready or able to move on, to love someone else. I can’t promise you a future. I wish like hell I could, but I just can’t.”
“It’s beautiful,” she whispers so quietly I almost don’t hear her. “I can only hope that one day someone will love me a fraction of the way you love her.”
“I hope so too. You deserve to be loved, Tilly. You deserve to be someone’s always.”
“I don’t need to be anyone’s always. I just want to be someone’s right now, and if that turns into more, then that’s a bonus,” she says, cupping my cheek.
“You should get more than what I have to offer.”
She sniffs with a small smile before she turns to leave, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me. And it’s the first time I wonder what happened to make her feel like she doesn’t deserve more.
TILLY
Minutes After Begging
Digging my nails into my palms to keep from breaking any more in front of him, I walk inside my house. The second the door closes behind me, my body falls against it, sliding to the floor. Sobs wreck through me. Not because I’m upset about Travis not being ready to move on. No, I’m crying because I can only imagine what it would be like to be loved by Travis, so unconditionally.
I thought I had that once…
I was wrong, and I lost everything because of it.
Listening to Travis tonight talk about how he fought for her, for their love to prevail, and how it did in the end… it was so beautiful. Breathtakingly tragic.
He told me I deserved to find that same love. Even a fraction of that kind of love seems like more than I should be allowed in my lifetime.
If he knew, he never would have said those words.
Chapter Eleven
Travis
Ten Years After Josie
“Papa? Can I have more ice cream?” Poppy asks from where she’s lying on the floor that’s covered in blankets, a fort in front of the couch where I’m sitting.
She and Harry are staying with us while Tatum is in the hospital. She gave birth last night to King baby number three, Ruby Rose. I still can’t believe she is a mother of three.
I’m so damn proud of Tatum though. She has kicked ass from motherhood at a young age to being a role model and icon for young girls everywhere. She puts her kids and Benton first in all things, all while ruling the world. But did any of us really think she wouldn’t?
“I don’t know, Pops. You know your mom doesn’t like you to have too much sugar before bed,” I tell her with a smirk, taking her bowl to the kitchen for a refill. “Sprinkles?” I ask as I scoop more ice cream into her bowl.
“Duh, Papa!” she yells from the living room, sounding like her mom.
“Excuse me, Princess Poppy,” I say, handing her bowl back to her.
My eyes look over to see Harry asleep on Penny’s lap. She looks up with a smile, in awe of her little nephew. “You good?” I ask her.
“Yeah, he’s fine.”
“If you want me to carry him up to bed, let me know,” I tell her as I lean back to finish the animated movie we’re watching.
The next day, Tatum and the baby are released to go home. Once I get the all-clear text from Benton, I head over to their place with the kids.
Poppy, I can tell, is a cross between excited and jealous about her new baby sister, whereas Harry has no idea what’s going on, with his normal happy-go-lucky demeanor.
“Daddy!” Harry yells when Benton opens the door for us. Crouching down with the baby in his arms, he puts a finger to his mouth to signal for his kids to be quiet since the baby is sleeping. Harry stops and tiptoes the rest of the way to his dad with his finger to his mouth mimicking Benton. “Is my baby sleeping?” he whispers when he reaches them.
“Meet your baby sister, Ruby,” Benton tells his son, pulling him into his side for a hug. “Poppy, come meet your sister,” he says, then looks up to where Poppy is still standing by me.
“I want to see mummy,” Poppy says, walking past them to head inside.
I give Benton a sympathy grin before walking past him to follow her inside with Penny, who is excited to see the baby. I stop when I see Poppy curled up with her mom on the couch, talking animatedly about her stay with us the last couple of days. Tatum looks a little tired but good as she listens attentively to her daughter.
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