Page 33 of One Touch

I sprang into action, rifling through the hall closet for extra blankets and pillows to make the bed cozier. In the linen cupboard, I found a soft blue rug that would add some warmth to the bare floor. I laid it out. It wasn’t perfect. There was a stain on it from when Ava puked up on it as a baby, but it wasn’t too obvious, and it brightened up the space.

Next, I searched for some homey touches. A framed painting of Ida’s diner that she’d given me for Christmas a few years ago.It wasn’t exactly the Mona Lisa, but I was relieved to have found something to make the room a little more welcoming.

All of this didn’t change the fact that the sleeper sofa was—and I quote my brother Jack here—”as comfortable as venereal disease.” But maybe I could distract Lily with all the flourishes so she wouldn’t notice the crappy bed for a few nights at least.

You could just invite her to share your bed, Ethan. . . .

“Interior monologue, I hate you.”

I was just fluffing the pillows on the bed when my phone buzzed with a text from Lily:

I’m taking my break early today! I can be there in half an hour? :)

In spite of my common sense, I replied with a thumbs up, then my heart rate picked up speed. I ran to the garage and grabbed an old dresser I hadn’t used for years, then lugged it up the stairs to the spare room. I found a spot for it in the corner, facing the door, then, I quickly pulled open the drawers to make sure that I hadn’t left something embarrassing inside.

All the drawers were empty except the top one. A photograph lay inside. The moment my gaze landed on the image, it felt like all the air had been sucked from my lungs.

Two happy faces stared back at me. One was mine—or at least a much younger version of mine. No crow’s feet. No white hairs. The other face belonged to Marie. The two of us were in a photo booth together. I knew exactly which photo booth, too. It had stood at the end of the pier in Bluehaven Beach before it had been refurbished a few years ago. Marie’s face stared at me, her eyes full of the same vibrant energy that had drawn me to her all those years ago. In the picture, we looked so damn happy and in love.

Ugh. I remembered that day.

Everything had felt so easy and so natural. Life was going to be so good.

I sank down onto the edge of the bed, the photograph trembling slightly in my hands. Memories of our time together crashed over me—our first date, our first kiss, the moment I proposed, our beautiful wedding day, Ava’s birth. . . .

A familiar ache bloomed in my chest, the pain of losing her still raw. Even after all this time, the thought of moving on and of letting someone else into my heart filled me with a mixture of guilt and fear.

Yep, I was playing with fire, all right. I had to find a way to put it out.

Just then, an idea hit me. I spoke to Lily about needing some ground rules yesterday. Maybe I needed to make the rules a little more explicit. That way, there was less chance of anything more happening between the two of us.

I tucked the photo into my back pocket and headed to the kitchen. First thing was first: coffee. Instant, black, and strong.

As the coffee cooled, I pulled out a chair and opened my laptop, ignoring the urge to check my email in case there were any pressing matters I had to attend to. With a few clicks, I had a blank document open in front of me, the cursor blinking expectantly.

How do you put something like this into writing? How do you create a contract that protects your heart without making it seem like you’re a complete asshole?

I took a sip of my coffee, the bitter liquid burning my throat as I swallowed. “Keep it simple, Ethan,” I muttered. “Just lay out the rules and expectations, nothing more, nothing less. People have employment contracts. This is totally normal. You’re a grown-up.”

Yep. Very grown up compared to Lily.

I started by outlining Lily’s duties as Ava’s nanny, from meal preparation to homework help to bedtime routines. I made it clear that her role was to provide childcare and light housekeeping, nothing more.

Just then, my phone rang. It was Elara.

“Yo, bro!” She sounded as happy as always.

“Hey there.”

“Does Ava have an after-school club today?”

It took me a moment to realize why Elara was asking.

“Oh, damn, I forgot to tell you. I don’t need you to pick up Ava this evening.”

“Really?”

“Mmmhmm.” For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

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