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Chapter Fifteen

IVY

The train rocks gently, rolling past miles of open fields as the city disappears behind me.

I should be grading papers, or napping, or doing literally anything other than replaying last night in my head.

But that’s all I can do.

Jackson’s voice.

The way he looked at me across the table.

The way he said, I’m going to support you any way I can.

And—most dangerous of all—the way I almost let myself believe it.

I stare out the window, watching as the Chicago skyline fades into rural Illinois.

Cornfields stretch for miles, the golden hues of September glowing under the late afternoon sun. My world is getting smaller again.

And I don’t know how to feel about that.

Ding.

My phone vibrates.

Lauren: Are you home yet??

Me: Almost. Train gets in soon.

Lauren: You’re coming to El Charro with me. No arguments.

I smile slightly.

Of course she’s dragging me to Mexican food.

I type back:

Me: Fine. But I’m not spilling everything again.

Lauren: Oh babe. Yes, you are.

By the time I get to El Charro, Lauren is already seated in our usual booth, sipping a margarita and looking entirely too pleased with herself.

I slide into the seat across from her, dropping my bag with a sigh.

“Please tell me you didn’t invite me here just to grill me.”

Lauren tilts her head, feigning innocence. “Of course not. I invited you here to feed you. And also, yes, to grill you.”

I groan, reaching for a menu. “I think you got the gist. You were with me.”

“Nope.” She smiles. “Let’s start from the where I left you last night. The dinner. The goodbye. And don’t skimp on the details. I need to know everything that happened after I left.”

I sigh dramatically, but a small part of me is grateful.

Because if I keep all this inside, it’s going to eat me alive.

I tell her everything.

The dinner. The Riverwalk. The way he said he wanted to see me again. The way I almost let myself believe this could be something where we just pick up right where we left off.

Lauren is grinning like a damn Cheshire cat.

“You like him.”

I nearly choke on my Diet Coke. “I don’t know about that.”

“Come on. I can see it in your face. You like him.” She leans forward, eyes bright. “And you’re freaking out about it.”

I glare. “I don’t even know him.”

“So? Was the vibe there?”

I exhale, pushing a hand through my hair. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the father of my baby. That’s all this is. We’re trying to be cordial.”

Lauren just smirks. “Mmmhmm.”

I pick up a chip and throw it at her.

She dodges effortlessly.

“So he’s coming next Monday? After their game in San Francisco Sunday?”

I sigh. “Yeah.”

“All the way…to Riverbend?”

I shoot her a look. “Yes.”

“That’s like, not a small deal.” Lauren leans back, beaming. “Oh babe. You are so in it.”

By the time I get home, I’m exhausted.

I change into leggings and a hoodie, wash my face, and curl up under my softest blanket.

For the first time all day, I let myself breathe.

And then—my phone buzzes.

I reach for it, expecting Lauren.

But when I see the name, my stomach knots.

Jackson Knox. He’s in my phone now.

Jackson: You make it home okay?

Me: Yeah. Just got in.

Jackson: Good.

Jackson: …Kinda miss seeing you.

I stare at the screen, my heart pounding way too hard.

He doesn’t need to say that.

But he did.

I swallow, hesitating before typing back.

Me: Yeah?

Jackson: Yeah. Hope that’s okay to say. It was so weird to just have four straight months where I thought you were a figment of my imagination.

Me: I guess that makes two of us

As soon as I hit send, I drop my phone onto my nightstand and fall back against my pillows, exhaling hard.

The room is quiet, still, except for the soft hum of my ceiling fan.

But my mind?

It’s a mess.

I press a hand to my stomach—a habit now, one I don’t even think about.

Four months in, and I still wake up some mornings forgetting that this is real.

That there’s a tiny human growing inside me.

That my entire life has changed.

And now, so has his.

I let out a slow breath, staring up at the ceiling.

I shouldn’t let this get to me.

Shouldn’t let a simple text— Kinda miss seeing you —turn my chest into a tangled knot of feelings I have no business having.

Because this isn’t about us.

It’s about the baby.

It’s about doing the responsible thing.

It’s not about the way I still feel the ghost of his touch.

Not about the way his voice still echoes in my head.

Not about the way I’m suddenly thinking about what he’s doing right now, and if he meant that text the way I think he did.

I groan, rolling onto my side, pulling the blanket higher over me.

I need to stop this.

Stop overanalyzing. Stop hoping. Stop letting Jackson Knox get into my head.

But as I close my eyes, my fingers brush over my phone.

And before I can stop myself, I check the screen one more time.

Just in case.

Just to see.

By Tuesday morning, I’m running on nerves.

And missing the caffeine I’m now not supposed to have.

I barely slept last night. I kept rereading Jackson’s text, letting it sink into my skin like it meant more than it probably did.

And now, I’m paying for it.

I walk into school balancing a coffee, my bag, and a pile of papers, only to be ambushed immediately.

“Miss Bennett!”

I stumble to a stop as one of my students, Gracie, tugs on my cardigan.

“Good morning, sweetheart. What’s up?”

She grins. “Where were you yesterday? Did you get married?”

I choke on my coffee.

Across the hall, I hear someone clear their throat.

I turn, only to find Principal Howard standing outside her office, arms crossed, watching me with a knowing expression.

Great. Just great.

“Ivy, can I see you for a second?”

Gracie gasps. “Are you in trouble?”

“No,” I reassure her. “At least, I don’t think so.”

With a deep breath, I follow Principal Howard into her office.

I barely sit down before she raises an eyebrow.

“So…how was your personal day?”

I shift. “It was fine.”

She leans forward slightly. “Just needed a break?”

“Something like that.”

She studies me for a moment, fingers tapping against her desk.

“Ivy, this isn’t an interrogation. But I know you. You don’t take random days off unless there’s a good reason. So I’m just checking in.”

I swallow hard. I should tell her. I should just get it over with.

But not yet.

“Nothing major,” I lie. “Just needed to step away for a bit.”

Howard tilts her head like she doesn’t believe me, but then she sighs. “Alright. But if you ever need to talk, my door’s open.”

I nod, practically bolting from the office before my guilt makes me spill everything. I’ll tell her about the maternity leave. Soon. But not today.

After staying late at school to catch up on a few things, I drive to my parents’ house.

As soon as I step inside, I’m greeted by the smell of pot roast and my stepdad, Carl.

I freeze for half a second, then recover, shrugging off my jacket.

My mom kisses my cheek, eyeing me suspiciously. “You’re home later than usual.”

“Got caught up at school.”

Carl waves me over, pointing at the TV. “You should’ve seen the game, last week, Ivy. This Knox guy has it .”

My stomach twists.

I grab a glass of water, sipping carefully. I didn’t even tell my parents I saw it. “Yeah, I, uh, heard it was a good game.”

Mom tilts her head. “How was Chicago anyway? You and Lauren have a good time at the art museum?”

I swallow. It still doesn’t seem real that I was definitely not at the art museum, as I had told my parents.

“Oh, you know. Just to get out of town. The city is so pretty this time of year.”

She narrows her eyes, sensing something, but thankfully, Carl keeps talking.

“Smart guy. And young, too! You don’t see a lot of head coaches that age.”

My mom nods in agreement. “He carries himself well. Good leadership presence.”

They’re raving about the father of their grandchild without even knowing it. I grip my glass so tightly I’m surprised it doesn’t break.

I should tell them.

But instead, I decide—I’ll let Jackson introduce himself to them…when the time is right.

This is too crazy, anyway.

I clear my throat. “So, uh, can we talk about something else?”

By the time I get back to my apartment, it’s already dark.

I park on the street, hugging my coat tighter as I step out. The crisp September air bites at my skin.

And then—something shifts.

A figure.

Standing near the alley, just far enough away that I can’t make out his face.

A cold shiver rolls down my spine.

I blink, my breath hitching.

Is that…Kyle?

I take a step forward, my pulse hammering.

But when I look again—he’s gone.

Just an empty street.

I swallow hard, hurrying inside and double-locking the door.

I need to stop letting him get in my head.

It’s been months.

He’s gone.

Right?

I toss my keys on the counter, kick off my shoes, and flop onto my bed.

I’m exhausted. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.

I close my eyes, exhaling slowly.

And then—my phone buzzes.

I reach for it automatically.

Jackson Knox.

My heart does a weird little flip.

Jackson: Can’t stop thinking about you.

Jackson: Or the way you looked at me at dinner.

I swallow hard, staring at the screen.

This is dangerous.

But before I can think better of it, I type back.

Ivy: Oh yeah?

Jackson: Yeah.

Ivy: And what exactly are you thinking about?

The dots appear. Then disappear. Then appear again.

Finally, his reply comes in.

Jackson: Wouldn’t you like to know?

I drop my phone onto my pillow, staring at the ceiling.

I am so, so screwed.