Except for that one moment when a notification went off on my phone and I had to dart out of the shower to check it, only to see a text from my mother. I seriously need to change the notification sound on my security system to prevent that from happening again.
But regardless, I was glad she texted. Saturday night, it took every bit of my strength not to go knocking on her door again. I submerged myself with work, poring over documents I finally received from All-Out and doing my best to stop myself from staring down at her place every time I looked out my bedroom window.
Jesus, I really am a stalker.
Cassandra didn’t look like she was home, which is probably why I was so fixated. She told me in the shower that she spent Saturday night at her sister’s house for dinner, and the level of relief I felt knowing she didn’t go to a bar was a little alarming. I never really considered myself a jealous person. Yeah, I had issues watching Jessica move on with another woman, but I wasn’t jealous. I was just adjusting to the idea that we wouldn’t be a family anymore.
It was hard to watch the woman I was with all through college and had a child with right after we graduated turn into someone completely different. Yeah, she was still the woman I fell in love with, but it was impossible for me not to wonder if it was the real her that I loved…or the version of herself she thought society wanted her to be.
Those were the thoughts that consumed me after she sent me a bunch of articles about compulsory heterosexuality, which is something she identified with. It’s the theory that heterosexuality is assumed and semi-enforced upon women by a patriarchal and heteronormative society. Basically, society only fed her straight culture, and until she was comfortable enough to go against the supposed “norm,” she couldn’t truly identify with her sexuality.
It all made sense to me, and frankly, opened my eyes up to ideas I had never considered. Not that my opinion on her sexuality really mattered. It was Jess’s journey, and I was happy for her to finally speak her truth. I was even happy when she married Kailey only two years after we divorced. I attended the wedding.
But Jessica’s coming out changed me as well. It made me more guarded and less of a believer in love. I stopped seeking out meaningful relationships and focused on being a dad and growing my company. Honestly, having split custody with Everly meant that I could obsess over my work when Everly wasn’t with me. I hate to say my divorce helped my business flourish, but it did. If we had been a traditional happy family all living under one roof, I wouldn’t have dedicated the time I did to my company to bring it to the next level.
It’s wild how my ex-wife’s sexuality changed the course of my entire future. Now I’m on the brink of leveling up my company once again, yet here I sit, brushing my teeth and thinking about the nanny.
I need to get this jealousy in check and keep my eye on the prize. Cassandra and I are just having fun. My priorities are still Everly and Fletcher Industries. I have no room in my life for anything else. The sooner I bang it out with Cassandra, the better.
I’m shocked when I come out of my bedroom to find Everly seated at the kitchen island with Cassandra. They both have halos of gold around them as the rising sun pours in through the windows. Cassandra is blowing on Everly’s bowl of oatmeal, and the view of the two of them laughing together gives my heart a strange jolt of contentment.
“Morning, Dad!” Everly says when she sees me standing there, watching them like a freak. “I’m up early today.”
“Yes, you are.” I laugh and walk over to press a kiss on the top of her head. She smiles and nuzzles into me before my eyes find Cassandra’s over top of Everly.
“Morning,” she greets, and the flush in her cheeks causes my muscles to tighten.
“Good morning,” I reply, a bit too crisply.
She looks amused as she walks over to the coffeemaker to pour herself a cup. I head over to the refrigerator to grab my protein shake, and when I turn around, I nearly barrel into her.
“Sorry!” she apologizes, holding her hands up and backing away.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble and then quickly turn back into the fridge. “Here.”
I thrust her coffee creamer into her hands, and her fingers brush mine as she takes it from me, causing the silvery feeling to sizzle up my arm. She murmurs, “Thanks,” and bites her lip nervously.
I would like to bite that fucking lip.
Clearing my throat, I bring my protein shake over to the island across from my daughter who I really should be focusing on right now. “What are your plans today?” I ask because it’s a reflex and maybe slightly because it gets a rise out of the nanny every time I ask it.