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chapter twenty-six

Jillian

" Y ou’ve been keeping secrets from me, Jill,” Graham whispered as I took the seat to his right in the conference room Monday. It was late morning, and we were the first two in the room for our planning meeting.

I widened my eyes as I opened my notebook to a fresh page. “Yes, but I had to keep my promise not to tell you,” I said, worried he might actually be a little irked with me.

But his facial expression softened as he glanced up from the laptop screen in front of him. “I’m glad she can trust you.”

With a quiet sigh of relief, I clicked my pen and smiled over at him, casually resting my chin on my fist. “And how are you feeling about all of this?”

His lips parted with an audible smack before closing again as he considered his response. “Let’s just say I’m going through a range of emotions similar to the stages of grief.”

“Have you reached acceptance yet?”

“Getting there,” he said with a little chuckle. His eyes found mine, and I could see some happiness. This wasn’t totally destroying him. There was at least some part of him that was looking forward to holding that baby, I just knew it. Even if he wouldn’t admit that out loud.

But his next question took me by surprise.

“Do I seem older to you now?”

Did he? When I thought about it, I knew the answer was yes. This new development made the age gap between us more real than ever. I’d become hyper-aware we were at two very different stages in our lives.

Yet it didn’t detract from his sexiness. If anything, it amplified it. Just picturing Graham with a fresh newborn in his arms made my heart feel like it might burst.

A flirty smile formed on my face, and Graham stared back at me with one eyebrow raised. “A GILF is way hotter than a DILF, in my eyes,” I said, batting my eyelashes.

Graham stared at me, struggling to sputter out some response to my GILF comment. The moment was cut short when Chase walked in and plopped his notebook down on the table across from me. We both greeted him like we hadn’t just been flirting like a couple of horny high schoolers.

Marco joined us soon after, coffee in hand and sleeves rolled up like he was ready for business. Graham took the lead, going over the logistics and how the new dynamic might work. Marco had some ideas for segment timing and branding for the show.

Chase didn’t say much, mostly nodding and scribbling notes, and I was impressed by how much calmer he seemed—though maybe that had something to do with Meghan’s pacing outside of the conference room doors every ten minutes. She kind of grounded him, in a way.

The meeting dragged on longer than necessary, mostly because Marco and Graham butted heads over the fine details.

I didn’t intervene. I just quietly kept my notes and tried not to laugh when Chase took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose like he was regretting every career choice he’d made that led to this moment.

By the end, we all agreed to do a dry run of the morning show that afternoon, so Chase could get used to the camera angles, the teleprompter, and the whole flow of things.

Then there was the issue with his wardrobe.

“He can’t dress like that. We need to adhere to certain standards,” Marco said to Graham before turning to Chase. “How many suits do you own?”

“Um…” Chase looked at Meghan, like she might answer for him, but I chimed in instead.

“I totally disagree,” I said from my stool, pressing a palm against my sore back. This was shaping up to be a long day. “Won’t it be more genuine if he shows up tomorrow with a t-shirt and a blazer? That’s how our viewers know him.”

Graham held his fingers against his lips like he wanted to disagree, but he was afraid to challenge me. “Maybe,” he said carefully, “but I’m sort of inclined to agree with Marco on this one.”

That was a first.

“You guys will totally clash,” Meghan said. “He can’t be sitting next to you looking all sloppy while you’re over there dressed like the First Lady.”

I wanted to ask which one, but the chatter continued, and I wouldn’t have been heard, anyway.

“He needs to at least wear a tie,” Marco said.

“Do you know how to tie a tie, Chase?” Meghan asked.

“Someone bring up a picture of the WTHR team,” Graham said, glancing around to see if anyone had their phones on them. “Let’s see what those guys are wearing and have him emulate that.”

The pain in my back radiated through my hips now, and the noise in the room only seemed to exacerbate it. They were all talking at once, and no one had actually asked Chase what he wanted.

While Marco, Graham, and Meghan debated by the cameras, I turned to Chase with a casual chuckle. “What do you want to wear?”

“I don’t even care,” he admitted with a shrug, “as long as I don’t have to pay for a new wardrobe.”

I grinned. “Maybe they’ll give you a raise.”

“Didn’t know you were a comedian,” he joked.

I forced out a laugh, but on the inside, I was cringing.

I’d always known my salary was higher than Chase’s, but now I felt even more guilty about it.

Here he was, making sacrifices and getting thrown into something that benefited him in no way.

I knew in my heart Meghan’s influence had something to do with his willingness to do this.

And it was all for my sake.

Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this anymore. Maybe it was time to quit and let them replace me with someone who could actually handle it all.

**

I was halfway to my car when my phone buzzed in my bag. I dug it out, expecting a text from Meghan, but it was a call. From my mom.

“Hey,” I answered, tugging open the driver’s side door and slowly lowering myself into the seat like I was made of glass. These days, it felt like I was. “Everything okay?”

“Of course, honey,” she said warmly. “Just wonderin’ if you’re gonna be able to come home for your birthday this weekend.”

My heart squeezed. I leaned my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes, imagining my mom’s outdated but comfy sofa.

I loved napping on it when I was sick. I could still remember the way she’d cover me with a blanket still warm from the dryer and turn on The Price is Right while I recovered.

“I don’t know if that’s gonna be feasible,” I admitted. “Work’s a lot right now. Everything… is a lot.”

“I figured as much,” she said, sighing.

“You know I’d be there if I could, Mom,” I said with a sad laugh. “I’d let you fuss over me and force me to eat some of your thousand-calorie peach pie.”

“I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again—calories don’t count when you come home.”

“God, I miss you,” I said softly.

“I miss you too, Jilly-bean.”

I stared out the windshield, watching the sun start to dip behind the edge of the old school building.

I wanted to ask her to come here, to bring the blanket and the pie and everything I didn’t realize I needed until she called.

But I couldn’t bring myself to ask. She’d drive across the state in a heartbeat, and that kind of effort wasn’t something I could stomach right now.

Not these days, when everyone else around me was catering to my every need.

So I just sat there, pretending like this phone conversation was enough.

But by the time I got home, the loneliness was almost unbearable. It was worse than the pain in my hips, which was becoming impossible for me to ignore.

I took a hot bath, hoping it would help, but it barely took the edge off. If anything, it gave me time to lie there and soak in more sad thoughts.

I wanted to be held.

With my dripping hands, I picked up my phone and called Graham. “Hey,” I said, my voice sounding weak and pathetic. “Could I come over?”

“Yeah,” he said, clearing this throat like he was worried he’d sounded too eager. “Of course.”

I pulled the plug from the drain with my toes and decided to be completely honest with him. “But I don’t think I want to fool around this time. I just need… you.”

“Perfect,” he said, and it sounded like he meant it. He told me he was almost home from class, and he’d leave his garage door open for me. It was probably best for me to park in there to avoid any suspicion from the Gardners.

Half an hour later, I showed up at his house in sweats and no make-up with my hair sloppily pulled back in a bun. I didn’t look a thing like the bubbly woman who greeted the city of Woodvale with a smile every morning.

But Graham didn’t say a word about my appearance. He didn’t say anything at all. He just pulled me into his arms and held me like he’d been waiting all day to do it. Like he knew it was exactly what I needed.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured against his shoulder. “I know you’ve got a million things going on with work and Olivia, and the last thing you need is me showing up like this.”

Graham pulled back just enough to see me, keeping my hands in his. “This right here?” He squeezed both hands. “It’s exactly what I need. Spending time with you… it resets me. I never thought I’d get to know this side of you, Jill. And it makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

This side of me?

The broken, exhausted, on-the-verge-of-tears side?

He must’ve been able to tell I was getting ready to say something self-deprecating or tell him he was crazy, because he spoke again before I had the chance. “Do you want to go upstairs and rest?”

I nodded, and he led me up to his bedroom, turning every lamp and ceiling light off on the way.

I kicked off my shoes at the side of the bed and pulled the heavy comforter back, slipping between the cool, soft sheets.

Graham crawled into bed after me, lying on his back so I could cling to his side the way I liked.

As we lay there, his fingers gently stroked my head. I closed my eyes, settling against his chest so comfortably I knew I’d be asleep within minutes.

“I’d do anything to make you feel better,” he whispered, his fingertips tracing along my hairline.

My chest tightened upon hearing those words. It almost sounded like this man was falling for me, which was a frightening thought. Even scarier was the way I felt like this was the kind of affection I’d been craving for so long—and how it was coming from someone I wasn’t meant to care about.

I didn’t know where this was going. I only knew that nothing felt better than drifting to sleep in Graham Harlowe’s arms, feeling his steady heartbeat against my cheek.

Finally, I could rest.