Page 20

I watched them pause to take in the new curtains and the rearranged layout of the living room.

I knew it was a big adjustment. I worried that I'd gotten it wrong, that I'd swapped where Sloane wanted the couch and the loveseat.

Part of me worried she would see it as just another thing that the Old Me had neglected, one more request of hers he'd ignored.

Now it stood there like an overdue apology.

Thankfully, Liam at least gave me a small smile and quick nod before heading off to his room.

Sloane didn’t speak. Her gaze moved back and forth across the living room, her brow lifting slightly.

Then she walked past me, dragging a bag in behind her into the walk-in pantry.

I followed her and saw she was already unpacking snacks, mechanically, as if she was trying to ground herself in a routine.

I contemplated my next words. I needed to tell her about what had happened with Angie, but not with the kids still awake.

Her voice broke through my thoughts. “Dawn says hi and she’s sorry she couldn’t help with Rufus.” She watched me out of the corner of her eye, probably gauging how I’d react to the mention of my over-the-top sister-in-law.

“She shouldn’t be sorry. I enjoyed my time with him. Gave me an excuse to avoid people.”

“He probably preferred you to Dawn anyway. She’s all bark, no patience.”

“Yeah, well, Dawn’s idea of ‘helping’ is usually showing up at the door in leopard-print pajamas and telling everyone to relax while blasting old rock albums. Not exactly the calming energy for a dog with a sensitive stomach.

” I paused, imagining Dawn on one of her ‘Zen’ days, trying to coax Rufus with essential oils and unsolicited life advice.

“I’m pretty sure Rufus tolerates me more than her. ”

Sloane chuckled, but I could see her holding something back as she turned to face the window.

“How is Dawn, really?” I asked, already bracing myself for the answer.

She shrugged and avoided meeting my eyes. “My sister? Still loud. Still eccentric. Probably wore a tiara to her last therapy session. Told me I should’ve kicked you out years ago when things first started to go bad. ”

I winced. “Yeah… can’t really argue with her there. I know she's never been my biggest fan, but I've always liked her.” She was a loving sister who was fighting for Sloane's peace. How could I not admire her?

Sloane didn’t respond. She kept staring out the window as if she were searching for something.

“I moved those shelves down like you wanted,” I said, pointing toward the reinstalled pantry rack. “And I added those bins for the kids’ snacks... figured it might help mornings go smoother.”

“I can see that. Looks like you also rearranged the living room.” She still had her back to me.

“Yeah. I remembered you said it felt too cramped with the ottoman in the middle. I figured more open space might feel less chaotic.”

She hummed a noncommittal sound as she went back to putting away snacks in the pantry. “And the lighting?”

“Yeah, I went out and got new bulbs. Warm tone. You always said the old ones felt like a hospital waiting room.”

She paused with a bag of popcorn in her hands, finally turning to look at me. Her expression was thoughtful and measuring as she said, “I didn’t think you were listening back then.”

“I wasn’t. Not the way I should’ve been. But I am now.”

She stared at me, searching my face for a moment, then turned to place the popcorn in a bin and continued to unpack. When she spoke next, her tone was lighter, yet still layered in fatigue. “Well… it doesn’t feel like a frat house anymore. So, that’s something.”

I smirked. “High praise. I’ll take it.”

She gave a barely-there smile. I handed her a box of granola bars as I stood by her side.

“Did you sleep okay while we were gone?” she asked casually, like it was an afterthought .

I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to burden her with the truth. “No. No, not really.”

She didn’t look at me, but I saw the twitch in her jaw. There was a part of her that still cared for me, even when she wanted to bury it. She nodded. “Me neither.”

“Yeah… I'm noticing that.” I reached out to gently touch her cheek, brushing a thumb over the soft skin under her dark circles. "You sure it wasn't all those rope drops and early hours running to the rides that got you?"

She did look at me then and her face softened for a second, as if I'd managed to penetrate her armor. I stared into her eyes, those perfect hazel eyes flecked with golden embers that danced in the sunlight when she laughed.

She said, “I'm sure." Then her gaze fell to the dark circles I knew were under my own eyes. "You had a rough time.”

"Yeah, I did." I was struggling and she knew it. I was desperate to tell her about my nightmares and what had happened with Angie, but it had to wait.

Fuck me, she looks exhausted.

“These last few days have been hard. A hell of a lot harder than I thought they’d be,” I said, my voice rough with truth.

“I’ve had a lot of time to reflect. I've missed you three so much…

I've missed you more than I know how to explain.

I've missed how right you make everything feel just by being near me. You are my everything, Sloane. You, the kids... hell, even Rufus.”

The words spilled from me into the space between us. All these things the Old Me had never been brave enough to say, that he'd buried under layers of pride, shame, and denial. Things I was afraid to face .

Sloane watched me with crossed arms and an unreadable face. Her silence was palpable enough to strangle me.

Desperate to break the mounting tension, I said, "I took care of everything around the house you've been asking for... do you like it?"

Then, finally, she spoke. Her voice was calm when she asked, “Do you think handling the things that I asked you to - mind you, a year ago - cancels out how much of an asshole you have been, Levi?”

Her words hollowed me out, carved out a cold pit where my heart had been. I stared at her, open mouthed and dumbstruck, before I realized she hadn't asked a rhetorical question; she was waiting on an answer.

I wish she was strangling me instead.

"Hell no," I said, shaking my head. "Absolutely not.

Of course it doesn't." I floundered, desperate and drowning.

I grasped at something, anything , my frightened mind thought could help in that moment.

"I also did all of the cleaning, dinner is in the oven, laundry is done, and I made the kids' school lunches for tomorrow.

.. I wanted to knock out as much as I could before you got home. "

This, however, seemed to infuriate her even more. Her nostrils flared, she squeezed her crossed arms and her nails dug into her skin.

"Sloane, I wanted to show you that I’m trying to fix things. I'm trying to-"

“Fix things ? You think you can fix that you shoved your dick in Angie?”

I flinched and turned, so sick with shame that I couldn't look at her. Nausea roiled my stomach and panic pounded my head as I struggled to breathe. "Sloane," I somehow managed to choke out her name between rasping breaths. "I know… this can't make up for… nothing can make up for that. "

In glacial tones she whispered, "Then don’t expect me to throw a goddamn parade because you cleaned the house and made dinner. I’ve done that every single day for years. Without backup. Without applause. Without gratitude."

Tears blotted my vision. I blinked them back, humiliated and wrecked.

The truth of her words stripped me raw. I thought of all the small signs of normalcy I'd tried to create: crisp clean sheets on the beds, laundry folded, dishes done, bookbags packed and lined up for the kids. All of it felt meaningless now.

But the nearly endless tasks, both large and small, were not meaningless. They never had been. However, I had allowed myself to believe they were somehow more meaningful because I did them.

Because I'm an idiot.

I heard Sloane sigh. "Levi, I do appreciate the effort. But I am trying to help you see why this is such an adjustment for me. I have always done these things because it's what needs to be done. Not because I want to be rewarded or recognized."

"You’re right,” I said, my voice rough. “I am sorry, Sloane. I wasn’t trying to earn a gold star. I… I wanted to show you that I care. That I’ve always cared, even when I was too selfish or blind to act like it.”

She arched a brow. "Well… I will admit, it was a pleasant surprise. But this whole thing is going to take time for me to acclimate."

"What whole thing?"

She waved her hand up and down, a gesture to encompass all of me. "This. This new Levi you keep bringing to me."

I cleared my throat and struggled to regain my composure. “My priorities are different now. It’s not about me anymore. It’s only you and the kids. That’s it. That’s all that matters to me. I can't say it enough and I won't stop saying it until you believe me. ”

She didn’t reply to that. She stood there and dissected me with her startling eyes and unyielding gaze. It was the same quiet, assessing look she skewered me with anytime I'd done something heinously stupid. I mentally berated myself as I replayed everything I'd said.

What dumb thing came out of my mouth to cause her to look at me like this?

She stepped closer, and her scent overpowered me. Right there, cramped in the corner of the walk-in pantry, my knees trembled as she approached.

Sloane had always possessed this power over me, a quiet ferocity that could either pull me in with desire or push me away from fear.

Sometimes both. But in that moment, as she drew nearer with the ominous intensity of a storm cloud, as the chaos of my mistakes rumbled between us, I had no clue which way the wind would blow.

Is this how I die?

I didn’t breathe as my wife, like the predator I knew her to be, stalked her prey. She was now only inches away, radiating heat and fury. I was so fucking aroused and scared at the same time.

I’m a good boy. Good boys get rewarded.

For one irrational moment, when my panicked mind saw her hands moving, I thought she would castrate me. But instead, she rose onto her toes and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, warm and fleeting.

Then she brushed past me like it hadn’t happened, like we hadn’t stood on the edge of something fragile and real, as the heat of her lips lingered on my skin. I stayed frozen for a moment, afraid that if I moved I’d lose the last trace of her touch.

She kissed me. Sloane initiated contact and kissed me. Why?

Eventually, I followed her out of the pantry to help with the rest of the unloading. As I hurried to catch up with her in the driveway I asked, half-laughing, half-terrified, “How close was I to dying just now?”

She replied in a deadpan voice, “Did you know the femoral vein runs along the inner thigh, from the groin to the back of the knee?”

“Oh… that’s, uh, good to know. So… really close to dead, then?”

Popping the trunk of her SUV, she turned to look at me; her eyes glinted with something that could have been amusement or mischief. She held her thumb and forefinger up, barely a millimeter apart. “Yep. This close. Thank God you’re cute and the father to my children.”

I laughed. It was impossible not to. The way she could deliver those casual, lethal remarks with zero emotion still caught me off guard every time, even after all our years together. I watched her, trying not to smile too much.

She's lowering her guard with me. Thankfully.

“So, I’m cute, huh?” I asked, grateful that this was the moment we’d landed on.

"Cute enough to survive,” she said with a shrug. Her lips curled into a grin that reminded me of everything I loved about her.

I watched her as she pulled out suitcases and set them in the driveway between us. She was perfect. Perfect in a way I didn’t deserve. Yet here she was, still standing in front of me, still making me laugh

"Damn right I am cute," I said, as I lifted her suitcase and headed back towards the house.

I'm fucking adorable.