Page 50 of Just My Ex

“I’m happy you’re getting help. You could have said something, Henry.”

I shrug. “I was hoping my actions would speak louder than my words.”

She considers this, her head tilted as she looks at me through her lashes. “Maybe they have.”

She squeezes her eyes shut a moment before looking back at me. “I’m glad you’re here with me. There’s something I’m grateful for. See? Your therapist would be so proud of me.”

I chuckle. “Yes, he would.”

“I’m being serious. Thank you for dropping everything and being here for me. If we can just hold out for three more weeks, you can go back to your life, and I can go back to mine.”

Her smile is small, and a brief flash of sadness goes across her face.

It’s fine, I lie to myself. It’s good to have a target, an end date.

It’s for the best. Two formerly married people sharing a suite in a resort with their daughter for any longer than that would be a disaster.

Chapter 19

Quinn

I feel guilty saying this, but I’m going crazy being here.

Notherehere, blow drying my hair in Sebastian’s bathroom that looks like it was built for a prince with its grey-veined white marble and gold finishes. A very manly, non-fussy prince.

When I say I’m going crazy here, what I actually mean is, things are not as cut and dry with Henry Tate as they were supposed to be.

And my feelings are borderline … complicated.

The slow pace, all the family togetherness, both with the Tate family at large and the three of us, have me feeling things I don’t want to feel.

I don’t mean to, but the man is so infuriatingly likeable these days that I can’t help it.

He tortures me like no other man ever has. Or ever will—that I am sure of.

And I can’t stop feeling like there’s a method to this madness of spending time with each other again. I’ve wondered if there’s any hope for a reconciliation because having her parents together would be the best thing for Navie, right?

Maybe?

I finish with my hair—it’s adequately dry, a bit frizzy at the ends, not shiny like a Brazilian Blowout—and freshen up my face with some mascara, undereye concealer, and a Hello Kitty Lip Smacker lip gloss I stole from Navie. We’re eating dinner with the family, and yeah, I care about what I look like.

Dinner all together has been happening most nights, and it’s fun. Enjoyable.

But I feel restless. Like there’s a ticking timebomb that is going to go off in two weeks, and then what? The judge will sign the paperwork making me the sole beneficiary of Grandpa’s money, I go back to Irvine and the money is deposited in my account, and Henry goes to Bern and we … what? Pretend this never happened?

That’s a big ask.

I don’t know who’s asking it, exactly. But it’s a big ask.

I get the sense, though, and maybe this is just wishful thinking, but maybe we’ll be seeing more of Henry now that we’ve sort of bridged this gap between us.

I love me some routines, so it’s been nice to get into one with Henry, now that it’s been a week since we got word that the judge would be signing off on the will. Henry sleeps on the couch in the suite every night. “Sleep” is probably not happening so much since he seems tired most of the time. But no matter what, he and I go for our jog in the morning while Navie is watched by Elianna (whom she calls “LeeLee”) or Sebastian (whom she calls “Zeb”) or Stella (whom she calls LaLa).

If we have enough time, we play on the new outdoor pickleball courts that Alec, as the activities director, installed this Spring. Not that I’m very good, but it’s fun to go through the motions.

Once we’re back, I get ready for the day while Henry takes care of our daughter, and then I do the same for him. After lunch, she goes exploring with Henry. She always comes back with something exciting to show me: a crisp whirlybird seed, a black ibis feather, and even a tiny frog, who now lives on the patio with a very large bowl of lake water and various things from the beach to help him feel at home.

The pace here is so … sweet. It’s a La La Land that I feel voluntarily imprisoned in.

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