“Is Dad coming back tonight?” Avery asks me when she gets on the chair in the kitchen. It’s been four days since he’s been gone. Four long fucking days. Four days I’ve felt like I’m in a daze. Four days I’ve felt like the hours are years. I went four years without him, and now I can’t even go four days without him. It’s insane and also something I will never, ever admit freely.

“Not tonight, sweetheart,” I reply and she groans. I look at her and I want to say, “Girl, same,” but instead, I shake my head.

“How about we have a pedicure night?” I try to change her mind. It hasn’t been easy with her these past few days, and I wonder if she thinks he won’t come back for her. I was even going to cave and ask him if we could go and stay at his house tonight, just so she knows he’s coming back. I have no idea if this is a good idea or not. I have no idea because I’ve never had to do this before. It was always her and me without anyone between us, but now it is all about her dad. Where is he? What is he doing? Do I think he misses her? It was fucking brutal, and as the day wore off, so did communication with Stefano, which I refuse to think about. He went from calling me at night to just sending a quick text. Which I only answered in the morning. I would send out a text, hoping he was up, but the text only got answered after I was at work. Yesterday, all I got was a “good night” text after midnight. I refuse to think about it, but I know deep down that change is coming. I also know, no matter the change, I will say I am okay. I survived worse than being left by Stefano Dimitris. I will pretend I am okay and I will do it with a smile on my face. I will do it for my daughter.

“Can I paint my nails red like Grand-mère?” she asks me and I close my eyes.

“Only your toes, not your hands.” I compromise and I think she knows it, so she smiles as she eats her pancakes. I have time to wash her hands quickly when she is done before ushering her to the car. I have never been late in my life, and I am not about to start now. I continue with our routine.

Dropping her off, I kiss her and head to the office. I don’t even try to call Stefano this morning because it was past eleven when he returned to his hotel room. Or at least that is the time he sent me the text. I didn’t answer him back. I saw it come in and swiped it away while I spent hours on Instagram looking up wedding ideas.

I’m the first one in the office, so I open the shades and then make myself a coffee before walking over to my desk. The front door opens, and I look up to see Sofia and Shelby walk in, talking to each other. They look over at me as I smile at them, making them both stop. “What is wrong with you?”

“What?” I get up, shocked. “Why would you ask that?” I gasp.

“I don’t know, you look like your dog ate your homework,” Sofia replies.

“And then your fiancé sent you a love letter meant for someone else,” Shelby cuts in, making me gasp again because that happened to her. I don’t have time to answer her before the door opens, and Clarabella and Presley walk in, almost bumping into the two women.

“What is this?” Clarabella asks them, then looks at me.

“Did someone die?” She puts her hands to her chest.

“Do you think if someone died, they would be just standing around?” Presley laughs at her and then looks at me. “Oh my God, are you pregnant?”

“What?” I squeak. “No.” I shake my head. “We’ve had this discussion every single day since San Francisco. I’m on birth control.”

“I’m here to tell you that nothing is one hundred percent safe unless you suffer abstinence.” Presley raises her eyebrows as she talks. “Which, from the stories we got, you are not.”

“Good God,” I mumble, “what makes you think anything is wrong?”

“You don’t have the ray of sunshine you usually do,” Shelby answers.

“You smile and stuff, but the past two days you’ve been,” Sofia says, “sad.”

“I have not,” I defend, shocked, “I’m fine.”

“No, you are not,” Clarabella says. “It’s okay to miss your man.”

“I don’t miss my man,” I lie. “He’s not even my man.” Sofia just snorts at that one.

“When Ace went away after he and Shelby got together,” Presley says, looking at her sister who just glares at her. “She came to work with a Cheeto in her hair.”

“I did not,” Shelby retorts. “Was I out of it? Yes.” She folds her hands over her chest. “Did I miss him? Yes. Was I a mess?”

“Also yes,” Clarabella answers for her, earning her a death glare. “You showed up for an appointment with two different shoes!” she reminds her, and I quickly look down to see I have the same shoes on.

“It looked like the same shoe.” Shelby stomps toward her office. “One was black.”

“And one was navy blue.” Presley rolls her lips. “We told the couple she was color-blind.”

Shelby gasps. “Is that why the groom kept telling me what the colors were of the flowers in front of me?” she asks. “He would even say, ‘that is a nice blue shirt you have on,’” she mimics the man, and for the first time in four days, I laugh.

“After hearing this”—I motion with my hand in a circle—“I think I’ll be okay.”

“Color-blind?” Shelby ignores what I just said. “Incredible.”

“What were we supposed to say?” Clarabella asks us. “You were a mess.”

“I was not!” Shelby shouts to them.

“You showed up with your hair unbrushed and thought you had the amazing beach waves. The back of your head was a rat’s nest,” Presley shares.

“I’m not talking to you two,” Shelby pouts, turning around and looking at me. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“I believe you,” I pacify her, nodding my head, and she flips me off, and again, I can’t help but laugh.

I’m about to answer her when the phone rings. I answer it, and the three of them go to their offices. No one comes back out to talk to me and I have a bride and groom who come in the afternoon to discuss their upcoming wedding. The three of us sit down and go over every single detail. I fly out of the office a little past four o’clock, and I’m only a couple of minutes late picking up Avery.

She talks the whole way home, reminding me about her memories from San Francisco. It feels like I have a whole weight of the world on my shoulders. I grab her hand and start walking to the front door when I hear Avery shriek beside me. “Dad!” she yells, letting my hand go and running to Stefano, who squats down enough to catch her.

“There she is,” he says, grabbing her under her armpits and pulling her toward him. “I missed you,” he tells her, then looks up at me.

I smile at him, trying to fight the lump in my throat. My feet make it to them. “Hi,” I greet him awkwardly, holding my hand up.

“Hi,” he replies softly, twisting his body to lean down and kiss my cheek.

“Are you surprised?” he asks me, then looks at Avery. “I missed you so much I came right back.”

I put my hand to my stomach, and I swear to God, I think I’m going to be sick all over the grass. “Why don’t we get into my car and go have dinner at the house?” he suggests to Avery, who is very okay with this plan.

“You can just take Avery, and the two of you can have some alone time,” I cut in, not sure I’m able to have this conversation right now.

He looks at me for a second and then back at Avery. “Or we can stay here.”

I guess he really wants to get his ducks in a row before he leaves, I think to myself. “Okay, I’ll follow you in my car, then,” I say to him, and he just looks at me, not sure what to say.

“Dad.” Avery uses her hands to turn his face. “Remember the puppy that licked my face?”

“Yes.” Stefano nods his head as we turn, and he walks to his car, looking over at me. “You’ll follow me?”

“Yup.” I nod at him, turning to walk to my car. Sitting back in my car, I follow him to his house. I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous, not even when I had to tell my parents I was pregnant. I park beside him, and Avery gets out of the car and goes into the house, as if she lives here, which—I mean—she will some days.

He opens the front door and she kicks off her shoes. “I’m going to play in my room,” she states. I want to tell her to stay there because I’m a chickenshit and I know deep down inside, I don’t want to have this conversation. But instead, I kick off my shoes and follow him into the house.

“Do you want pizza for dinner?” he asks me over his shoulder, and I nod my head.

“Sounds good,” I say, walking into the house and going to sit on the couch. I sit at the edge of the cushion while Stefano places the order on his phone.

He comes into the living room, stopping midway to the couch. “Is there something going on?” he asks me, unsure.

I look at him and do a fake smile. I know it’s a fake smile, he knows it’s a fake smile. “Listen, I think we need to talk.”

“We do,” he agrees, coming over and sitting down next to me. The nerves in my stomach crawl their way to my throat.

My neck suddenly becomes like a heater. “I get it,” I say the words. “I understand.”

He does not make a move to hold my hand, instead he leans back onto the couch. “You understand.” I nod. “What is it you understand?”

“Well, I think it’s pretty obvious.” I avoid looking at him and instead I turn my head and scratch my neck, pretending it’s itchy.

“Well, it’s not obvious to me, so why don’t you tell me what you understand.”

“This isn’t for you,” I finally say it. “You have to go work and even though you tried to—I don’t know—be happy here. You aren’t.” I look at him and he stares at me with his mouth hanging open. “I understand, trust me, I know.”

“You understand.” He says his words in a whisper.

“I know that we are going to have to come up with a parenting plan.” I put my hands together to stop them from shaking. “She starts school soon, so you are going to have to come up and see her when you can, of course. And then, of course, whenever you come home here, she can come and stay with you.” I literally think I’m going to vomit. I jump up, shocking Stefano as I rush away from him, running to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me and close my eyes, counting to ten. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. “It’s going to be fine,” I say, walking over to the sink and turning on the cold water. “It’s going to be fine.” I wet my hand and then tap my cheeks. “It’s going to be fine. You’ll be fine.” I close my eyes, take a deep breath in, and open the door, screaming when I see him standing there. “Holy shit, you scared the bejeezus out of me.”

“Good,” he declares, his tone tight, “hopefully now the real Addison is with me, and not whoever left that room.” He points at the living room, making me pissed.

“I was trying to help you,” I growl between clenched teeth.

“Trying to help me?” he asks me and I never will get over how hot he is. Like today when I saw him, I couldn’t help but stare at him. His hair is longer than I’m used to and his beard looks like he hasn’t trimmed it since he left. He also looks a touch tired, but I thought it was because he was feeling guilty about what was going to happen. “How were you trying to help me?”

“Oh my God.” My hands fly up. “I don’t know why I have to spell it out for you. I know.” I fold my arms over my chest.

“You know?” he replies, and I don’t know why but I think he’s smirking at me. “You know I’ve had the worst four days of my life?” he asks. I don’t say anything, only because he doesn’t wait for me to answer him. “That for the past twenty-four hours I was huddled into a room, trying to make the logistics work so I don’t have to go into the field anymore.” My mouth opens. “I mean, I will still have to go into the field, but it’ll be two days… tops. I’ll get what I need and then come home. I spent over six hours on the phone with Casey Barnes discussing it,” he informs me. “Five hours and fifty-five minutes of him threatening me also, by the way.” He holds up his hand to make sure I don’t speak. “Rush home to my girls because I’m miserable without them.” If I wasn’t so pissed, I might sigh, but I am, so I don’t. “Guilt eating at me for missing bedtimes. I’ve missed too much already. I’m not missing more. Put my foot down, spoke with who I needed to speak to. I’ll do my part for the business because I’m good at it and because I like it, but I’ll do it from nine-to-five in the comfort of my house.”

“Stefano,” I whisper.

“Rush home with a plan to wine and dine you and ask you guys to move in with me.” His voice gets louder. “Only to be given the cold shoulder and then you sit there and tell me you know.” His eyes almost glare at me. “Not even a kiss. Four days I’ve been gone, and you aren’t even happy to see me.”

I know he’s throwing a lot of stuff at me. I know I need to focus on what he is saying, but the only thing I can zoom in on is: “You want us to move in with you?”

“Um, yeah,” he says like I should have known this. “Didn’t you know?”

I roll my eyes at his last remark. “Addison, I’m in love with you,” he declares, his voice soft and quiet, which makes my heart literally skip a beat. “Like, so in love with you.” I blink away the tears. “And it has nothing to do with Avery. It has to do with when you hold my hand, I feel a sense of peace. It has to do with when you kiss me, my heart speeds up. It has to do with when you smile at me, I feel like I could take on the world with just you by my side.”

“You.” I put my hand to my mouth to stop the sob from coming out, but it’s too late. “You aren’t leaving?” He is in front of me in one step, his hands on my face, tilting it back to look at him.

“I’m not leaving,” he reassures me, “not now, not ever.” He finally lowers his head to kiss my lips. I put my hands on top of his.

“I didn’t know that,” I admit and then laugh out through the tears.

“No shit,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t even know what you thought you knew.”

“You are not picking a fight with me right now. Not after I spent four days practically sleepless because I was missing you,” I grumble between clenched teeth, “and then you come home and kiss my cheek.”

“You were being weird,” he replies between clenched teeth.

“You were being weirder,” I counter. I know it’s not a good comeback, but it’s all I have right now.

“When is your lease up?” he asks me. “Doesn’t matter, it’ll just sit vacant.”

“It’s over next month.”

“So do you think you can move in with me tomorrow?” He smirks at me. “I mean, I would ask for you to do it today, but it’s late. I have to feed my daughter, and then I have four days of sex to catch up on.”

“Four days?” I can’t help the smile that fills my face. “That’s a lot of sex.”

“I have faith in us,” he declares, kissing my lips. “Now, let’s go tell our daughter that you’re moving in.”

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