Page 42 of Sweet Escape
The pieces come together to form a devastating puzzle; a picture of grief so pronounced it leaves me breathless. The sorrow etched on Angie’s face makes sense now, and I feel terrible for having been the cause. I dread the day word gets around town. It’s abundantly clear Jess was beloved, and I suddenly feel like an interloper.
Without another word on the matter, Wilder says, “Emmy girl, do you wanna go see Storm with us?”
Her face lights up, and she nods enthusiastically. Oblivious to my inner turmoil, he reaches for my hand, and for the first time, I don’t take it. I don’t want to lean on him any more than I already have. I’m not her. I don’t knowwhatI am to him anymore. Just the woman carrying his oopsie baby, I suppose. It shouldn’t hurt, but it does.
It really, really does.
Chapter 11
Mile High Mess
?Happy & Sad - Kacey Musgraves
Wilder
It happens in slow motion.Liv shuts me out, the lock silently sliding into place as she puts a wall between her world and mine. She probably feels like a stand-in at best, and a consolation prize at worst. That’s not how I see her—not now, notever. After what Jake and Amber did to her, I can understand why she’d feel that way. I owe her more of a conversation about my past, but it’s not the right time.
When we walk back into the barn, Jax is there at Storm’s stall, cooing and plying her with carrots. Emmy wiggles to be let down and barrels into Jax’s legs. He picks her up and hands her a carrot, helping her feed it to the mare.
Liv stands off to the side, watching the interaction with her mask firmly in place. I want to know what she’s thinking so I can reassure her, but how? How do I define what she means to me when I’m not even sure myself?
I care for her a great deal—there’s no question about that—but anythingbeyond caring feels foreign. I don’t want to give her false hope, even if there is still this undeniable chemistry between us. If I could let myself have something with someone again, it would be Liv, but that wouldn’t be fair to her, or to the memories that are slowly slipping further and further away.
I don’t know how to fix things, or if it’s even a possibility, but I have to try. “Jax, would you mind giving us a minute?”
“Sure.”
He hands me back my traitorous toddler and pats me on the shoulder, sensing the gravity of the situation
“Emmy Lou,” I say, “Daddy wants to tell you something very important.”
She eyes me critically. How the hell do you tell a toddler just shy of her third birthday that she’s about to become a big sister in a way she’ll understand? Kids don’t come with a one-size-fits-all manual, so I plow forward, doing my best to explain in the simplest terms.
“Stormy girl is having a baby,” I say. “She’s gonna be a mama.” I help her pet over Storm’s mane.
Emmy’s never had a mama of her own to understand the concept.I don’t know how much of what I’m saying is registering, but I hope she can catch a little of my meaning before what comes next.
“A baby horsey?” she asks, stringing together a few of the meager words she has in her arsenal.
“That’s right. And you know what?”
She tilts her head.
“Livie’s having a baby, too. You’re going to be a big sister.”
“There’s a baby growing in my tummy,” Liv says, smiling softly as she lays a hand over her belly.
Emmy follows the movement. “Baby?”
“That’s right, sweet girl,” I say. “You’re going to have a little brother or sister.”
Emmy’s face lights up with some kind of recognition. “I’m gonna have a sister?”
“Or brother,” Liv says. “It could be a boy.”
Shrugging, Emmy gives an unenthusiastic, “Okay.”
I’m not sure what she’s thinking, but she’s not crying, so I take that as a good sign. I cradle her head and hug her to me, then pull Liv in with us.
