Page 50 of A Love Like Pumpkin Spice
Pumpkin and Cinnamon are having the time of their lives, tumbling around the living room like it’s their own personal bounce house. Meanwhile Jensen Ackles naps by the window, soaking up the last few rays of sunlight as though he’s trying to store them for winter.
By the time Henry finishes making dinner, the three of them have migrated to the couch. Cinnamon is snoozing in my lap. Pumpkin has curled up in the pocket of my cardigan and claimed it as her new nest. Jensen is softly snoring at my feet.
I almost don’t have the heart to move them. They look so peaceful, as if they’re draped for a furry little family portrait. But eventually, my stomach growls louder than my conscience. So I gently shift the cats onto the couch and ease my legs out from under Jensen’s warm, heavy weight and make my way to the kitchen.
We eat quietly, but it’s the good kind of silence. And God, he’s a ridiculously good cook. Is there anything this mancan’tdo?
It’s not the kind of silence I knew growing up, the kind that stung, that made me feel invisible. Back then, silence meant distance, meant I’d said the wrong thing or was better off saying nothing at all.
Every little win of mine brushed aside for something half-hearted my sister did. I was always a few steps behind in a race I never even signed up for.
But this … this is different. This silence settles over us like a soft blanket. No tension, no pressure to fill the air. Just two people,letting the day sink in, sorting through their thoughts side by side.
It’s the kind of silence that makes you want to live in it. The kind that makes you feel at home.
Until suddenly, a glass falls off the counter and makes us jump.
“What the hell was that?” Henry asks, clutching his chest and eyes darting around, confused.
“Oh, that’s Chaos.” I shrug and get up to put our plates into the dishwasher. “She loves to push glasses off the kitchen island. It’s kind of her thing.”
“You’re kidding, right?” He stares at me with wide eyes and mouth agape.
“Not at all.” I chuckle and pick up the glass. By some mysterious grace, it’s shattered into just two pieces—instead of a mountain of sharp shards that could slice open the paw of any living animal. How considerate.
So I wipe up the spilled water and put anything made of glass further away from the edge, in case she’s not done. “She always knocks stuff off counters. I’d be careful with your sunglasses over there.” He immediately jumps up to scoot them to the middle of the kitchen island.
“What—” He suddenly turns, looking around frantically.
“Hah!” I point my finger at him. “You didn’t believe me, but she’s rubbing against your calves, isn’t she?”
His eyes widen, and his mouth pops open as he gapes at me in shock. “For the record, I didn’t not believe you. But how do you know?”
“Because I’ve been living with her for a while now,” I explain with a grin and get the cat food ready for my alive pets. “I got some of your dog food in that cupboard over there.”
I point to my right, and he heads over, though not without throwing a wary glance back toward the spot he’s convinced Chaos is lurking in. He preps Jensen’s food, and sure enough, the moment the first bag crinkles open, they all come charging into the kitchen with the force of a furry stampede on a mission.
Pumpkin is now big enough for regular cat food. And while she still loves to wake me up in the middle of the night because shethinksshe’s hungry, my living situation has become far more relaxed. No wonder my ex had to turn up now to disturb the peace I made for myself with his unpredictable ideas.
“So,” he starts and turns from where he’s sitting on the couch, pulling up his leg to better face me. “What was the credit card thing about?”
“Right.” I take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of my nose. I wish this was some annoying dream, but I’m slowly losing hope.
“After I left your clinic, I got a call from my financial adviser. She told me that someone opened credit cards in my name and wanted to confirm it wasn’t me. As soon as she knew, she froze all of them. I think that’s why Jay turned up here: I shut off his money faucet. No idea how he found out where I live now, though.” I roll my eyes, but anger is burning in my gut.
“After that call, I went to Erik and filed a police report. I’m also pretty sure my sister is in on it somehow, but there is no evidence yet. I hope she won’t turn up here, too.” I cross my arms in front of my chest. “Honestly, if she disappeared forever, I’d throw a party. Hats. Cake. Confetti. Possibly a parade. Though maybe in hindsight I’m not unthankful that she showed me who Jay really is.”
I want to leave it at that, but from the corner of my eye, I see him gazing at meintently, so interested, that it tumbles out of me.
“You know, she was supposed to be an only child. That was made painfully clear from the start—by my parents, and honestly, by her too. Then came one reckless night, too much wine, and … surprise! Nine months later, enter me.”
He gently untangles my arms, taking my hand in his. He presses a kiss to the back of it, soft and grounding.
“I was always in the way,” I say quietly. “Too loud. Too boring. Toome.Maybe that’s why I’ve turned into this emotionally constipated oversharer now.” I try to laugh and break the sudden heaviness in the air, but it comes out thin. He doesn’t laugh—just gives my hand a firm, reassuring squeeze.
I glance down at our hands, his thumb tracing slow circles on my skin as if he’s trying to calm down the storm under it.
“My happiness offended them somehow. Any glimpse of joy I had was a personal inconvenience. I thought moving out would fix that. Thought having my own life would mean I could finally breathe, finally be seen.”
