Page 84 of Accidentally Yours

“This shelf still smells like me.” I smiled.

“You’ve only been gone six and a half weeks,” Grace said.

“It feels like I’ve been gone for eternity. And you know what I missed the most?”

“What?” Grace smiled.

“I missed the unhinged, healing energy of dumped women rage purchasing candles.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get your fill today,” she said.

“And I miss my baby. Like, a lot.” I pouted. “Should I FaceTime her right now?”

“You literally just left her. Let Damien spend some alone time with her,” Grace said.

I inhaled a deep breath and sort of pulled myself together, helping customers as they walked into the store. I helped an unhinged woman suffering from post-breakup trauma. A couple of hours had passed, and I was doing great. I gave myself a pat on the back.

Grace stepped behind the counter and handed me a granola bar. “Stop pretending. We all know you’re unhinged right now.”

“I’m multitasking. Hormones and capitalism. I can do that, you know. I’m the queen of multitasking now that I have a baby.” Who was I trying to convince? Her or me?

My phone pinged with a text from Damien.

Daisy just sneezed and smiled like she invented it.

Mid-bite of my granola bar, and I burst into tears.

“Okay. Maybe I am unhinged. But I’m here, helping customers. I’m running an empire, and I didn’t leak through my shirt. So, we’re calling it a win.”

Grace smiled. “Do you want to pump now, cry, or rearrange theMen Are Cancelleddisplay?”

“All of the above,” I said.

ChapterThirty-Six

Damien

I heard the elevator ding and smiled as I looked at Daisy. “Your mama is home.”

Willa stepped out of the elevator, dropped her bag, kicked off her shoes, and dramatically face-planted herself on the living room couch.

“I’ve been emotionally chewed out by a girl with purple hair who cried because her situationship ended over Spotify.”

“What’s a situationship?” I asked.

She looked at me and sat up. “Give me my baby.” She held her arms out. “Why is she so cute?”

“She missed you.” I smiled.

“She better have. I spent two hours crying in the back room, wishing I could hold her and give her a million kisses.”

Damien sat on the couch beside me and placed his hand on my thigh.

“She was a pooping-machine today,” he casually said.

“Today? She’s a pooping machine every day. She’s marking her territory with you. Out of respect, of course. Do you think she remembers me?”

“Willa, of course she does. You have glitter in your hair.”

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