Page 46 of What We Broke

I run my hand over my shorn head.

“You’re still beautiful,” he says.

“Holy fuck,” Zara interrupts, clearly caught in our orbit once again. “I have never felt more single in my life.”

She snatches the clippers off Jesse and hands him a brush that helps clean the hair off me. “I can’t with all the googly eyes. You’re both nauseating. Let’s never hang out just the three of us ever again.”

She glances at me while continuing to clean up around me. “Next time you want to do something”—she points at Jesse before taking the cape off me—“heis not allowed to come. Mr. Smooth Operator is ruining everything.”

“Do you want to have a shower?” Jesse asks, completely ignoring Zara’s rant.

“Oh no. No sex in this house.” She shoves him out of the way and then moves my head in different angles, inspecting his work. “If I’m not getting any, neither are either of you.”

“I simply asked if he wanted a shower,” Jesse interjects. “Nobody said anything about sex.”

“I’ve got eyes,” she counters. “I’m surprised you’re not fucking on the floor right now.”

She darts out of the room quickly and returns with a stand-up vacuum and hands it to me. “In this family you earn your keep.”

She grabs Jesse’s hands and begins dragging him out of the bathroom. “There’re towels in the cabinets,” she calls out. “Use whatever soap and shampoo is in the bathroom.”

My smile is wide. Stupidly wide as I vacuum the bathroom and try to rid my clothes of any remainders of hair.

I find a towel, get naked, and jump in for a quick shower, still looking like a smiling fool.

In this family you earn your keep.

CHAPTERTEN

jesse

NOW

If Leoand I had made any progress since our last therapy session, I had undoubtedly ruined it when I asked him to leave the house.

I shocked myself when the words left my mouth, and when his face fell, it took every ounce of strength I had not to change my mind. This wasn’t just some verbal sparring between us, where you sling words back and forth in the heat of the moment.

My request was intentional. It was picking a side, and I have never done that before.

Despite the hurt I know I caused him, a little spark of hope resurged the next day when he walked back into the house, duffle in tow, and headed straight back to sleep in the guest room.

It’s been a week since then, and now my car is idling in the driveway, waiting for Leo to come out so we can go to our therapy session together.

I’m not thrilled about the fact that he was driving under the influence, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not secretly enjoying that he is somewhat bound to the one spot.

I don’t have to worry about him leaving to go drinking, I don’t have to worry about him driving, and I don’t have to worry about whether or not he’s coming home.

The passenger side door opens and Leo slides inside.

“Hey,” I greet.

“Hey.”

He slams the door shut and I back us out of the driveway and start the short drive to Dr. Sosa’s office.

We’re about five minutes out when he asks, “Did you consider a time frame in which you want to commit to our sessions, like Dr. Sosa suggested?”

My heart deflates at his question. Did I think about her request? Yes. Often. Did I have an answer? Fuck no. I hate that we’re even doing this, and he knows that.

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