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“That makes sense.” Unable to help myself, I stepped forward and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “I’m not asking anything of you, Esme. Just know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
With that, I turned and walked to my car, leaving her standing on the porch. As I drove away, my heart was a mix of hope and uncertainty, knowing that I’d opened a door, but unsure if Esme would walk through it. But one thing was certain: I’d laid my feelings on the line, and there was no going back.
CHAPTER39
Esme
Ugh, I felt like a zombie that had been run over by a truck, then resurrected just to be run over again. The stomach flu was no joke, and the kids and I were all stuck in its miserable grasp. Tiana’s whimpering, Florian’s groans—it was like the soundtrack to a very bad, very real nightmare.
I fumbled for my phone and thumbed out a text to Wolfe:
Me:Avoid the house today. We’ve got the plague. Seriously, it’s gross.
My thumb hovered over the heart emoji, but I quickly deleted it. No need to send mixed signals, even in jest. I hit send and flopped back on the couch, wishing for nothing more than a hot bath and a time machine to fast-forward past this entire sick day. Wolfe’s reply would usually spark a playful banter, but today, silence from his end left me feeling strangely… annoyed? Nah, I told myself, just the flu talking.
I stared at the ceiling, trying to will away the incessant pounding in my head. The phone lay silent beside me, and I kept glancing at it as if sheer willpower would make Wolfe text back. Not that I minded that he hadn’t replied. Nope, not one bit. He was a busy man. Who’d confessed his love for me a week ago. A man who had continued to look after us, even though I hadn’t said I loved him back. He didn’t owe me text messages. He didn’t owe me anything at all.
The sound of retching from the bathroom was accompanied by Tiana’s cry of, “I’m dying here!” Her dramatic flair was still intact, even under the influence of the flu.
“I think we all feel like death, kiddo,” I called back, trying to muster some sisterly sympathy. I groaned and pulled a cushion over my face, wondering how we were going to get through the day.
My phone buzzed, and I snatched it up, heart skipping a beat. It was a message from Ariel, from her bedroom, not Wolfe.
Soup would be nice. Can we order in?
I sighed, the inexplicable disappointment a dull ache.
Me:Sure. Just don’t tell Wolfe, or he’ll think we can’t handle ourselves.
Ariel’s reply came swiftly, a teasing edge to her words:
Ariel:Or maybe he thinks you’re the queen, and he’s your king.
I let out a gasp. Ariel had no idea how closely her comment mimicked what I’d said to Wolfe on that terrible day when Belle had burned her arm. I knew she was just rehashing Wolfe’s talk about the boy from school, but still, it was fucking uncanny. Plus, it made me imagine what it might be like to let Wolfe actually be my king…
Nope, I told myself firmly.Don’t go there.Just the flu talking, definitely the flu.
With my phone tossed carelessly onto the coffee table, I flopped back onto the couch, groaning as a wave of nausea passed over me. The room was filled with the sounds of the kids’ miserable sniffles and moans. I was pretty sure Belle was regretting her decision to eat a whole bowl of ice cream earlier.
“Hey Esme, can you make me a sandwich?” Florian’s voice reached me, tinged with an annoying cheerfulness. Typical Florian, sick but never down.
“Absolutely not,” I muttered, my eyes closed. “Get it yourself, brat.”
I was just about to drift into an uncomfortable, self-pitying slumber when the doorbell rang. My eyes snapped open, and I groaned again. Who on earth would visit during the plague? And how quickly could I get rid of them?
Dragging myself off the couch, I stumbled to the door. “I told you not to come over!” I exclaimed, my voice cracking with surprise and concern. Wolfe was standing on the porch, his arms filled with bags of groceries, looking sweet and hot and like he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Fuck, did I even have the energy to say no to him right now?
“I know, I know,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “But I couldn’t just leave you all like this. What do you need?”
I bit my lip, torn. I could see the sincerity in his eyes, the genuine desire to help. But I also knew that Wolfe loved me, and I didn’t want to take advantage of that. Especially when I was still wrestling with my feelings for him.
“Wolfe, you don’t have to do this,” I protested weakly, my resolve wavering.
He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “Esme, I want to help. Let me.”
Before I could respond, the sound of small, shuffling feet reached my ears, and Belle appeared behind me, her face pale and her eyes watery.
“Wolfe!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with both delight and misery. “I feel so bad.”