I sat up. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Why can’t I wallow?”
It was more than hurt feelings, and he knew it. Knox had warned me. He’d told me not to fall for him, not to mistake his actions for real feelings. And I’d still fallen for him. That made me an idiot. At least with Warner, he’d tried to hide his true self from me.
It was an excuse, not a great one, but an excuse all the same.
But there was no such excuse with Knox.
I loved him. For real loved him. Loved him enough that I wasn’t sure I could survive the anguish of being tossed aside.
“Because all that ‘I’m such an idiot’ and ‘how could I fall for him’ negative self-talk is a waste of time and energy. It’s also setting a shitty example for Waylay, who’s had enough shitty examples to last a lifetime. Get your ass out of bed, take a shower, and get ready to show Waylay how to burn an asshole’s life to the ground.”
My feet hit the floor. “You’re really good at this pep talk thing.”
“You deserve better, Witty. I know somewhere deep down you don’t think so. But you deserve a man who’s going to put you first.”
“I love you.”
“Love you too, babe. I gotta go. But I want a post-shower, makeover selfie. And I’m emailing you your game plan for the day.”
From: Stef To: Naomi
Subject: New Naomi Day One
1. Get your ass out of bed.
2. Shower.
3. Makeup.
4. Hair.
5. Wardrobe. （I know how much you like checking things off your list） 6. Breakfast of champions.
7. Waylay’s soccer practice. Smile. Light up the damn field with your gracious beauty.
8. Host a spontaneous social gathering. Invite friends, family, and Nash （that part is very important）。 Look amazing （also very important）。 Have an actual good time （most important） or fake it till you make it.
9. Go to bed smug.
10. Rinse. Repeat.
With the satisfaction of four items already crossed off my to do list, I ventured downstairs. The rest of the house was still silent.
Stef knew me too well. And it really was easier to fake a positive attitude when I looked good on the outside.
There was a fresh pot of coffee waiting for me. I poured generously into a cheery red mug and studied the kitchen while I sipped.
The room had taken on a new life since the first time I’d been invited inside. It felt like most of the house had. The curtains had not only been opened but washed, ironed, and rehung. Morning sun streamed through clean glass.
Years of dust and grime had been scraped away, cabinets and drawers of junk purged. Bedrooms closed up for nearly two decades were now full of life. The kitchen, dining room, and sun room had become the heart of a home full of people.
Together, we’d breathed life back into the space that had gone far too long without.
I took my coffee into the sun room and stood at the windows, watching the creek catch fallen leaves and usher them downstream.
The loss was still there.
The holes left behind by Liza’s daughter and husband hadn’t magically been filled. But it felt to me like there was more surrounding those holes now. Saturday soccer games. Family dinners. Movie nights when everyone talked too much to hear what was happening on-screen. Lazy evenings spent grilling dinner and playing in the creek.
Dogs. Kids. Wine. Dessert. Game nights.
We’d built something special here around Liza and her loneliness. Around me and my mistakes. This wasn’t the end. Mistakes were meant to be learned from, overcome. They weren’t meant to destroy.
Resilience.
In my opinion, Waylay was already the epitome of resilience. She’d dealt with a childhood of instability and insecurity and was learning to trust the adults in her life. Maybe it was a little easier because she’d never let herself down the way I had. I admired her for that.
I supposed I could learn from her example on that.
I heard the shuffle of slippered feet punctuated by the excited tippy-tapping of dog nails on tile.
“Morning, Aunt Naomi. What’s for breakfast?” Waylay yawned from the kitchen.
I left my morning moping and returned to the kitchen. “Morning. What are you hungry for?”
She shrugged and settled on a stool at the island. Her blonde hair was standing up on one side of her head and squished down on the other. She was wearing pink camouflage pajamas and fluffy slippers that Randy and Kitty tried to steal and hide in their dog beds at least once a day.
“Um. How about cheesy eggs?” she said. “Wow. You look nice.”