Page 156 of Altered

"It's a cottage," I corrected, thinking about the outrageous Christmas gift my father had given me; my own three-bedroom cottage, on a two-acre site, less than a mile from Teagan and Noah's house.

Dad had every stick of furniture from the apartment moved to the cottage. When I had panicked, my father had assured me that every stitch of clothing thatheowned was safely tucked in the cottage along with every cup, plate, and saucer.

"Yeah," I told my grandma. "I think I am."

I needed the fresh start.

I had to move forward.

But I was taking him with me.

****

Chapter Sixty-Three

Hope

When I had thought about moving into the cottage, I had imagined all of the work I would have to do, like organizing all of my furniture and decorating the nursery.

Everything was already done.

For days, I found myself just wandering around the little house, and admiring every nook and cranny.

My home was a one level with a yellow painted exterior. I had a separate kitchen and living room, with an open fire, and a beautiful bathroom with one of those antique egg-shaped tubs. There were three bedrooms. One was my room, and the other was a beautiful yellow painted nursery filled with everything a baby could need and more. The smallest bedroom had been transformed into a home office.

It was small and perfect.

I didn’t want to be in a big house all on my own, and my father knew it.

Neat and cozy worked for me.

When he brought me home, Dad had made us dinner, and stayed late into the night. But now he was giving me the space I needed to settle in. I knew it was hard for him to not smother me, but he was trying and I was grateful.

Four days later, when my doorbell rang, I had expected it to be Dad checking in on me.

Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined it would beJordan.

But there he was, staring back at me, looking nothing like the broken man I'd last seen.

His clothes were immaculate, hair trimmed tight, his face was clean shaven, and his green eyes were alert and bright.

"Hello, Hope," he said, hands in his coat pockets, eyes locked on my face. "Can I come in?"

****

"How was rehab?" I asked, placing a mug of hot chocolate on the table in front of him before taking the seat opposite. Wrapping my fingers around my own mug, I blew into it and asked, "Have you been out long?"

"Productive," Jordan replied. "I got out a few weeks ago."

I nodded, unsure of what to say.

I felt like I was sitting opposite a stranger in a doctor's waiting room.

That was how far we'd grown apart.

"I got the final decree in the mail last week," he said. Reaching inside his coat, he pulled out a brown envelope and handed it to me. "We're officially divorced."

"Thank you," I replied, numb, taking the envelope and setting it down beside me.

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