Page 5 of Where We Belong

As much as it hurts, this is for the best. Did my heart shatter leaving Paradise Bay last week? Absolutely. I wanted nothing more than to plan Bernie’s party and be there for her special day. But I can’t keep playing the role of dutiful friend and babysitter, dropping everything whenever Ben calls. Not when I’ve stupidly loved him since I was fourteen.

“I was the first to congratulate you when you started dating Bodhi Wainwright. He seems to be perfect in many ways.” Atzi’s tone softens. “But Bernie asked for her Cory multiple times.”

“It’s for the best,” I insist. “This is called moving on.”

“Moving on is understandable, but you could’ve pulled away slowly. You just disappeared from her life as if she never mattered.”

“Atzi—” I begin, but my voice catches as the emotions overwhelm me.

She can’t fully grasp how agonizing it was to be there daily for Ben and Bernie. I’d arrive each morning to help them. I arrived right before breakfast and left after dinner. Twice a week I’d take Bernie into San Francisco for mommy and me classes. I played the doting aunt because I loved them. But for him I was still just Cory.

I recall the specific day my heart shattered beyond repair. It started like any other morning. I came over, and Bernie ran to me, grinning from ear to ear. She called out, “Mama!” and my heart swelled. That single word meant the world to me.

I already loved her deeply, but with that word, the connection between us seemed to intensify. The idea of being her mother filled my heart with joy. After all, she’s Ben’s child.

But then Ben interfered, picking Bernie up from the floor and laughing. “Now, Bernie, don’t forget she’s Cory. You could call her Aunt Cory. But not Mama, okay?”

In that moment, Benedict Farrow managed, once again, to break my heart, reminding me that I was just a friend—a mere side character in his life story, someone of no real significance to him.

It was then I realized I had to disappear from their lives. Sometimes, the best way to move on is to pretend that the source of your pain no longer exists. Finding happiness is hard, but if I can be content without them in my life, I call it a win.

When I glance toward the apartment and see Bodhi pacing while on a call, I smile. Perhaps, happiness is now attainable because Ben and Bernie are no longer part of it. Bodhi grins at me and puts his phone away.

He steps out to the terrace, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “You okay, babe?”

I nod, staring at my shoes. Hastily, I wipe the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. “Yeah.” Turning to face him, I force a smile. “Let me say goodbye to Atzi.”

“Cory, I only want your happiness. Bodhi might seem perfect, but I’m not sure he’s perfect for you,” Atzi states bluntly.

Her words strike a chord, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s right. If it’s not Bodhi, then who? I’m done kissing toads trying to find Mr. Right, but at least now I’m not breaking up after the third date just because the guy isn’t Benedict Farrow. It’s a matter of survival and finding someone I can share a lifetime of happiness with.

Rather than prolong this unproductive conversation, I cut it short. “Thank you for calling. Give my best to the triplets and Heath."

Bodhi gives me a curious glance. “Who was that?”

“Atzi,” I answer casually, putting away my phone.

“What did she want?”

“Oh, we were just catching up,” I reply breezily, looping my arms around his neck. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

He smiles, and his dark brown eyes sparkle with warmth. “We’ll probably stay in, so we can recover from the jet lag, and tomorrow I’ll take you wherever you want.” Leaning in, he kisses me softly.

Unfortunately, his phone buzzes, breaking our moment. Bodhi groans when he checks it. “It’s Miriam. Let me make sure the kids are okay.”

“Of course,” I say with forced brightness, dropping my arms from his neck. Inside, irritation prickles through me at the call from his ex-wife.

While Bodhi takes the call, I turn back to the Paris skyline, clasping the balcony railing tightly. The cold metal bites into my palms. I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that Miriam’s needs will always eclipse my own when it comes to Bodhi’s priorities. But shouldn’t his children come first?

I’m being unfair, unreasonable. The problem is that I’m not allowed to meet them unless our relationship deserves such privilege. I respect the way they're raising their children, but it makes me feel excluded and insignificant, like I'm not important enough to be part of their lives. It also makes me feel like an outsider who's not fully part of Bodhi’s life.

Painting a smile back on my face, I wait for Bodhi to return, pushing down all my doubts. Surely in time, he’ll make me feel more like a partner, not just a distraction. I have to be patient and understand the complex family dynamics. One day, it’ll get easier… won’t it?

“Sorry about that,” he says, returning after a couple of minutes.

“Everything okay?” I ask, trying to suppress my anxiety.

“Yeah.” He slips his phone into his pocket. “Miriam’s planning for next month and needs to know if I’ll be home.”

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