Her voice is strained when she replies, “I know, but I know you struggled with thinking everything in our past wasn’t real…and you’re just so wrong about that. I loved you, Max. I loved you in all the ways I knew how to love you at the time. You are my family. Leaving you was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I considered staying with you forever despite my sexuality because I loved our family, and I loved you! But ultimately, I knew that wasn’t fair to you.”
“I know all this, Jess. We did the therapy. I’m good.”
“I don’t think you are. I don’t think you’ve ever really let it sink in. You’ve read the books and done the therapy. You’re an ally and a great co-parent, but you haven’t forgiven our past. Our life together was not a cloudy storm. It was sunshine and rainbows. They were the best years of my life. You made me a mom, Max. We made Everly together. She is you. She is me. She is ours. Nothing about her creation should feel darkened to you.”
“She doesn’t feel darkened, Jess,” I croak, my voice thick in my throat at just the mention of thinking of Everly that way. She is my saving grace in this crazy place called life. The one person I can count on who will always love me back.
“Then stop rewriting our family history. Let our good memories drive you to make new memories. Let them finally heal and open your heart up to be loved and desired in a full way.”
“I tried, Jess,” I exclaim, feeling frustrated that everything my ex is saying are things I wanted with Cassandra. “I told her I was in love with her. It didn’t fucking matter. Maybe there is something about me that prevents women from really seeing me for me. Maybe I am unlovable.”
“You look in our daughter’s eyes and I dare you to say that to her. I dare you, Max Fletcher,” Jess snaps, her voice harsh. “Everly will turn you into a puddle on the floor if you say that bullshit to her. You are loved. You are loved by her, by me, by Kailey. Your family, your friends. And if that nanny isn’t in love with you, then I’m glad I’m coming home early because she’s clearly too stupid to be watching our daughter.”
The laughter hurts my chest, and I can’t help but shake my head at this very bizarre conversation I’m having before eight o’clock on a Monday morning. “I miss you, Jess.”
“I’m always right here, Max.” Her voice is tender and thick, quaking at the end. “You’re kind of my best friend, you know.”
“You’re definitely not mine,” I reply with a giant smile.
She giggles, and I steel myself before saying, “I love you, Jess.”
She inhales sharply. “I love you too, Max.”
Tuesday morning feels like any other day. It’s nearing six o’clock as I tiptoe across the deck in my loungewear with my Kindle in hand, ready for another day of nannying with a tortured heart. I’ve forgone the spicy romance novels I have been consuming all summer for something a bit less…well…painful.
A tragic genre by the name of…self-help.
When I slide the door open, I’m wondering how many pages it will take before I nod off while reading when Max’s voice has me nearly jump out of my skin.
“Cassandra, can we talk for a moment?” My heart thunders in my chest at the view of him standing in his kitchen in a classic black suit, white shirt, slim black tie, perfectly gelled hair. He looks ridiculously handsome. I haven’t seen him much since the charity gala because when I come in, he goes out. No chitchat, no morning coffee, no teasing smirks…just a view of his impressive backside.
“Okay,” I reply, setting my Kindle down on the accent table to feign some semblance of confidence.
Max’s dress shoes clunk along the hardwood as he makes his way through the living room. “Let’s go into the library so we don’t wake Everly.”
The flip flap of my sandals is mortifying as I struggle to walk in the wake of his cologne. That perfect spicy smell of naughty and delicious. I would do anything to press my nose into his neck right now and just…breathe him in.
Max perches on the edge of the pool table with the backdrop of floor-to-ceiling books behind him.
Another kink exposed.
I lean against the far bookshelf and open my mouth to say something, anything to finally dig us out of this awkwardness and maybe consider moving forward in some meaningful way…but Max beats me to the punch.
“Jessica is coming home on Saturday.” Max’s tone is sharp as he crosses his arms over his chest and tests the stretch of his suit coat.