Page 53 of Just My Ex

His face falls, the tiniest amount, and a part of me feels it to my core. The thing is, there was no animosity towards me in his words to Sebastian, no blaming. His wordsfelthonest. And I felt his desire to make amends, whatever that looks like.

I cannot let myself love him again. But maybe things between us don’t have to be this bad? Because they haven’t been bad, as we’ve been together.

I haven’t been filled with hurt, like I thought I would be. Like I was just a month ago.

“Or maybe, before I get ready …” I stall, and I realize I’m doing some weird pointy actions, like I’m a crossing guard. “Maybe we could watch a movie or something?”

His face brightens, his eyes widen. His slow, small smile starts to crawl across his expression.

“DuneorTron?”

Chapter 20

Henry

Just because you’re no longer married to someone doesn’t mean you can magically forget what their favorite movies are. Or the way they still smell like vanilla body wash long after they’ve showered. Or the way they laugh while watching said favorite movies.

And just because you’re no longer married to someone doesn’t mean you don’t love them more than ever before.

I get it. Sebastian is probably right. There’s little chance this is going to end well. It’s a dangerous game.

But I have to try. I’ve weighed the alternative, various versions of giving up entirely, of hiring someone I know in the security industry to come fill in for me while I go back to D.C. and prep for Bern. Of carrying on, status quo, but never making it known that, even though I don’t deserve a second chance, I’d be grateful for the opportunity to try.

But see? Every time I think that, I have to stop myself and breathe reality into this. I do not want to hurt Quinn or Navie. Which begs the question: which is more noble? Let them go gracefully with as minimal damage as possible? Or fight for them the way I should have fought for them in the first place?

I don’t know the right answer. Which is why, sitting here watchingTronwith Quinn, in her reddish-purple shirt and those white jeans I can’t get out of my mind, has me overthinking everything. I’m distracted by the way she fiddles with her simple gold chain around her neck, drawing her legs up and tucking them to the side, her knees almost touching my thigh. I’m distracted by the way she smiles during her favorite scenes.

“Admit it. You’ve always wanted to jump into a video game,” she says, flicking a glance at me.

“Well, yeah,” I say. “Gimme the Light Cycle.”

When it’s over, she reaches her arms up to stretch. “Let’s saveDunefor another night.”

She tries to hide a yawn behind her hand and now I’m yawning.

“We’ve become our parents!” she says. “Old, tired parents who can’t stay up late to watch two movies in a row. I’d fall asleep out here if we tried, for sure. Except, if that were the case, I wouldn’t have Navie kicking me all night.”

I would not mind if she fell asleep here.

Except, it's a good thing she gets up to get ready for bed when she does, or I might have pulled her close and begged her to stay.

It’s okay, I tell myself. I can’t get out my wood carving kit and work on my secret project if she’s out here with me, and I need to finish before we go our separate ways.

I took up whittling when I was in the Army, but working with a block of olivewood to try to create what I’ve envisioned in my mind has been a lot harder than I thought, thus the carving kit. Since I don’t sleep well, I’m used to trying to channel my thoughts into creating something.

But these pieces for Quinn and Navie? They have to be just right.

When I hit a spot in it that isn’t working the way I want it to, I set it aside to work on the other, smaller project for Navie, a carved German Shepherd. Navie loves dogs, and I chose to carve my favorite breed. We couldn’t have a dog. With me being gone so much, Quinn always said she couldn’t navigate being a dog mom on her own.

Instead, she had to figure out how to be a single mother.

I shake my head, trying and failing to quell the ache at that thought.

“Thanks for theTronnight, Henry.” She’s got her hair up in one of those clips that makes it fall out and down everywhere. And she’s smiling a real, genuine, breathtaking smile.

“Anytime.” I say, like a wordsmith genius.

“You, uh, sleeping okay out here? Because you seem pretty tired, like, all the time.”

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