Page 92 of The Jilted Lovers Club
I nod, offering a smile even as my eyes sting with tears I refuse to let fall. His smile back to me speaks volumes.I got you. I’m here. I understand.His hand finds mine, and he squeezes it before letting go.
“Here, let me take her,” he says, slipping Lottie from my arms. “You want to say hello?”
I nod again, turning back to Brayden. It’s like a magnetic pull as soon as my eyes find June again.
“Hi,” I breathe when I reach them. I look up at Brayden, then feel my tears spill over as soon as our eyes meet. I do everything I can to not fall apart, even though this feels like both the heaviest weight and the biggest relief.
“I’m sorry,” I say, wiping my tears as I force a laugh. “I’m…” I trail off, not sure what to say. She’s so precious. So tiny, even at nine months. Like a little doll.
“I know,” he says, reaching over to squeeze my shoulder. At this, my face crumples. I can’t help thinking of our daughter. Violet. The baby I didn’t want, and then mourned in private when we lost her. She was only two pounds. They’d let me hold her, which was both comforting and traumatic at the same time.Every time I see a baby, I think of Violet—her unnatural color, the way she lay limp in my arms, the tiny features of her face, her eyes squeezed shut. It makes me turn away, haunted by the image of my daughter seared in my mind.
I think of Violet now as I stare at Juniper. I imagine she would have looked like June at this age, with her pink coloring and easy smile, with Brayden’s wide eyes and narrow nose, and my grandmother’s swollen lips—the same ones Nina and I inherited.
“Would you like to hold her?”
I don’t reach out right away. “Was it hard?” I ask him, my voice trembling. His own lip quivers, even as he smiles.
“Yes,” he whispers, “and no. I fell in love with Junie the moment I saw her, and even though I know she’s not Violet, I can’t help but feel like our daughter gets to live on through her.”
I nod, reaching out to touch June’s little hands. She grips my finger, then tries to bring it to her mouth, which makes Brayden and I both laugh as I pull my hand away.
“I’m afraid she’s in a phase where she needs to bite everything,” he says. Then he lifts her toward me again. Even though my heart is pounding, even though I’m fighting the impulse to turn away, even though I’m scared shitless … I open and let him place June in my arms.
And oh god…
It’s like my body remembers before my mind. My arms have been aching for this, for the weight of a baby, for the second chance I thought I’d never get.
After we lost Violet, I was desperate to hold a baby again. I didn’t want to admit it—didn’t know what to do with that craving—but I needed that closeness like I needed air. The ache dulled over time, or maybe I just learned to live around it. But holding June now, I realize that yearning never truly went away.
It had just been waiting for this moment.
I look up at Brayden and smile, tears blurring my vision again. “Thank you.”
He returns the smile and gently squeezes my shoulder as we turn to walk down to Nina and Ashton.
Lottie is so tuckered out, we put her to bed in our cabin not long after we arrive. Nina thought of everything—including a baby monitor—so Ashton and I could enjoy some BBQ and a beer by the bonfire while Lottie slept peacefully in the cabin, and June dozed in Brayden’s arms.
The bonfire crackles as we sit in its glow, accompanied by the sound of cicadas off in the distance. Nina and I talk into the night, quickly forgetting about our men as we fall into conversation like no time has passed. The distance between us over the past year has mostly been my fault, but she doesn’t hold it against me. It feels easy again—natural—as we laugh about our ridiculous mothers and swap stories about her life on the ranch and mine in New York.
At one point, Nina leans in, her voice dipping slightly. “So, get this … my mom actually sent me a full Jillian Michaels DVD set just weeks after I gave birth.”
I wince. “Oof. Seriously?”
She nods, her expression darkening. “It’s like she can’t get over the fact that I’ll always have curves, like the only acceptable version of me is the one who’s trying to be thinner.”
“Or one who hates bread,” I say, lifting my roll in solidarity, then taking a dramatic bite.
Nina bursts out laughing. “And here I thought I was going to be the only descendant of Nanna Dot who still believes in the magic of carbs.”
“A few weeks ago, you would have been right,” I say with a grin. “But then this guy introduced me to his irresistible pancakes and crepes and every cereal you could ever want.”
I glance over at Ashton, who’s deep in conversation with Brayden, his hands gesturing animatedly about something—probably farming or cattle, or whatever these ranch men bond over. It strikes me hownormalall of this feels. The fire crackling, my cousin beside me, my ex across from me, and Ashton … just fitting into it all like he’s always been here.
In this moment, I know. I don’t want to lose him. Not now. Not ever. No matter what comes next, I’m all in.
Nina must’ve noticed the look on my face, because she nudges me with her elbow. “So, a cowboy, huh?”
I duck my head, then give her a shy smile.
