Page 154 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

“Give him time,” he murmurs. “He’ll get over it.”

“It’s not exactly something you get over, Jake,” I cry. “Not this.”

“He loves you.”

I shake my head.

“He loves Penny.”

Another sob slips out of me. “He’s the best dad.”

“I know.”

“Thebest,” I emphasize before pulling away from him, surprised Penny’s still sleeping from being squished between us. “Man, I sound like a crazy person. I don’t know how I let everything get so out of control.”

“Give him time,” he repeats.

“How much time?”

“I dunno yet. But he’ll get there.”

“And what do I do while I wait? Do I move out? Do I find a new job? Do I…do I text him about seeing Penny? Or is that an assumption on my part? Does he even want to see her?”

“Of course, he does.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he loves her.”

“But will hestilllove her?” I sob, the ugly truth tumbling out of me. My greatest fear. “Even if she isn’t his?”

His shoulders hunch, and he pulls me closer to him all over again. Like the idea of Penny belonging to someone else is as painful for Jake as it is for me. “He’d be an ass not to, Mads.”

“He’s stubborn.”

“I know.”

“And bullheaded.”

“I know,” he repeats.

“And a grudge holder.”

“You know these all kind of mean the same thing, right?”

With a pathetic laugh, I wipe under my eyes, again, feeling like my tears are a damn waterfall. “You know what I mean.”

“I know. But I also know Milo loves you. And he loves Penny. Give him some time. You should get some sleep.”

He’s right. Penny will be up in a couple of hours, and running on fumes while nursing a broken heart and taking care of a baby sounds miserable.

Squeezing Penny a little tighter, I scoot to the edge of the couch and stand up, hating the way my body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. My muscles are achy. My spirit is drained. And there is no magic elixir to fix it.

I shove my hair away from my face, trying not to crumble into a heap as I eye the stairs warily. “I guess I’ll, uh, I’ll go to bed.”

“He’ll come around, Mads.”

With a watery, pathetic smile, I shrug one shoulder and make my way toward the stairs, which seem more daunting than ever. “We’ll see.”

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