Page 49 of Defended By Love

Even with the day resetting, I don’t want to make things rougher on her than they need to be. Apparently, somewhere between her catching me sneaking out and cooking every obtainable egg, I wound up liking Grant’s mom.

This is not going to look good for my ‘not soulmates’ argument.

Breathing out a broken glass sigh, Grant’s mom continues. “Do you ever wish you could go back in time and relive a day? I do. Constantly. I wouldn’t even want a special day. I just want to go back and relive one of those crazy, hectic, stressful, normal days. I want to wake up to more bodies in my bed than there were the night before. I want to scrape the boys off the walls to pile them in the car to get to school. I want to show up frazzled and late to work. I want to drive them to hockey and listen to them chatter in the back of the van. I want to go to bed with a million things on my mind, but also with the complete peace that comes from knowing that everyone I love is under my roof. That everyone I love is safe.”

Grant’s mom picks up a forkful of food and sets it down without eating it. She’s adrift in a sea of memories, a smile playing on her lips. Mesmerized. I can only imagine the sort of mundane memories that promenade through her mind right now.

It’s not lost on me that she’d give anything to go back and live an ordinary day. Not me. I’m on repeat of this day, but it’s the day where I meet Grant. I guess I would call it a special day. If I had to relive any other day, I’m not sure I’d be able to find a single moment of joy in it. Satisfaction for a job well done, sure. But joy? The kind of happiness that has you smiling over an increasingly cold plate of eggs decades later? No.

Not even close.

“The silence came in by degrees. First one of my boys went off to college. Then another was always out with his friends. Next thing I knew, they’re buying their own houses and having their own babies. Of course, when Fred died, I discovered what true silence is. It’s the sort of silence that comes from losing a part of yourself.” She bows her head and dabs at her eyes. It’s a little while before she speaks again. “Grant, my sensitive baby, moved back shortly after. I didn’t say anything, I would never say anything. He just knew. Not that I’m expecting him to stay forever,” she adds quickly. “He’s here now though because silence and loneliness only live in the present.”

She stops speaking, but the house isn’t silent. Not really. There’s the ticking of the clock, the sound of our breathing, and a hum in the house—a hum that I always feel when Grant’s around.

“So, he didn’t move back in because he’s a lazy mooch who wants you to wash his socks?” I ask, still daring to hope.

Grant’s mom chuckles. “No, that Zagreus Hart certainly pays him well enough. Great man he is.”

I shrug. “My current theory is that he’s a super villain with some sort of plan for world domination.”

Even though her eyes are still shiny with tears, she throws her head back and laughs a laugh that seems to cleanse her soul. I can practically see the stress fall off her. She still looks surprised because of her eyebrows, but she also looks beautiful. I imagine she looked this way all the time with a squad of kids cracking her up day and night.

“What’s so funny?” asks a sleepy voice from behind me that I’d recognize anywhere.

“No idea,” I answer.

“This girl of yours is funny,” Grant’s mom answers at the same time.

Grant walks up behind me and rests his hands on the back of my chair. He’s close enough that I can feel the heat radiate off him. Goosebumps erupt on my arms. I’d like nothing more than to lean over the back of the chair against him. I know that he’d wrap his arms around me and press a kiss to the top of my head. I know that he’d hold me and everything would feel perfect.

So I don’t.

“Yeah, she’s a real card,” Grant says without an ounce of sarcasm. “I’m glad to see you’ve met my mother, Shelly.”

Shelly. Isn’t that just the most mom name out there.

For some reason, learning her name is the straw that breaks this camel’s back. I can’t sit here with Grant and Shelly and eat a ridiculous breakfast and see how wonderful my life could be, if only I could learn to be a more pleasant version of myself.

The kind of person Grant would actually want when all the shine wears off.

The kind of person who is happy with just being happy.

Because that’s not me. When I’m Shelly’s age, I don’t want to look back and reminisce about an average day. No, I want to reminisce about the day I took down an evil corporation. I want to reflect on the day I saved the world from whatever pollution he has planned. I want to reflect on the day I was the biggest, baddest boss out there.

I’m not the type of woman that men settle down with because I’m not the type to settle.

I’m sure destiny is pleasant and all, but I’m not going to stick around and find out what it has planned for me. No, I’m going to run as fast and as hard as I can from that.

Instead, I’m going to bend the future over and make it my bitch.

I don’t care that I’m in a time loop, I got shit to do.

“Thank you for breakfast,” I say before I storm out. Obviously, I’m going to thank the woman for making me an army’s worth of food. I may be a woman on a mission who refuses to be tied down to anyone, but I’m still Canadian. I have to be polite.

Chapter 25

I start doing the walk of shame—the real walk of shame of being borderline rude to a nice lady, not the night after sex walk of shame because why the hell would anyone be ashamed of doing something that is universal and fun?—when I realize I don’t want to walk all the way to my apartment. Especially since I’m still in his ridiculous t-shirt and Christmas pajama pants that I, for some reason, don’t want to change out of.

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