I hang my head, battling guilt I’m not sure I’ve earned. “Has she ever asked about me?”

  “A few times.” Ivy leans on the counter and I meet her eyes.

  “What did you say?”

  “I told her she was the best parts of her dad. Smart and strong and filled with energy and questions. And I told her she looked just like him, that the only thing she got from me was my hair, which made her a very lucky little girl.”

  “Considering what you thought I did, I’m honored you were that nice about it.”

  “Part of me always knew you didn’t abandon us.”

  You abandoned me first.

  It’s a bitter thought, still tied to the hurt I felt when she broke things off and then disappeared. Maybe it’s time to get all that out in the open. Maybe we need to stop dancing around the hard stuff and clear the air so we can start moving forward as friends, or hell, more than friends.

  I clear my throat, but Ivy speaks first.

  “What are your plans for the day?” she asks, and just like that, the moment for important conversation has passed.

  “I’m gonna check on that friend of mine who was injured at work. I show my love by bringing groceries and toys for the kids and he shows his by telling me he doesn’t need my help. What about you? Any big plans for the day?”

  “I have to call Julian.” Ivy wraps her arms around her stomach, visibly shrinking in on herself. “I meant to call him last night, to tell him I’m not coming back, but then you and I got talking and, well, you know.” She gives me a sheepish grin. “After what we did, it’s officially time to break things off with him. He deserves to know it’s over.”

  Given what I think I know of the guy, I think he’s already gotten what he deserves. “Do you want me to stick around? For moral support?”

  Ivy shakes her head. “No, no. You go take care of your friend. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ll be out looking for a job afterwards, which will bring me one step closer to affording an apartment so you can go back to normal life.”

  My entire body rejects her statement. I don’t want her to leave. I just got her back. “You don’t have to rush to get a job, Ives. I’m happy to step up for a while.”

  Her brows furrow, her shoulders slump, her gaze drops to her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I feel like I need to support myself for a change.”

  Shit. Right. Because she’s spent years dependent on other people. And I just admitted I show my love through support.

  Smiling, I rake my hands through my hair.

  When did everything get so complicated?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Ivy

  While Nell occupies herself in her room and Micah visits his friend, I step onto the deck to call Julian. The sun is bright and the sound of the ocean should be soothing, but my heart gallops in my chest like a bull trying to murder a cowboy. I lower myself onto one of the chairs, let out a long breath, and initiate the call.

  “Ivy.” Julian barks my name and I flinch, checking the time. Oh, no…

  I got caught up talking to Micah and missed the golden hour.

  Okay, then. Brace yourself. This is gonna get bumpy.

  “Hi, Julian. Do you have a minute? I kind of need to talk to you.”

  “It’s been time for you to ‘kind of need to talk to me’ for a while now. When are you coming home?” I hear the click, click, click of him flicking through hangers and picture him standing in the closet, hair damp, towel around his waist, displeased with every shirt he sees.

  Because the only way he feels secure is when he’s better than everything else. Nothing will ever be good enough for him. Not me. Not Nell. Not the clothes in his closet.

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about.” I inhale through my nose, closing my eyes, the words stuck on my tongue. Once I speak them, they’re true. There’s no turning back.

  Is this really what I want?

  Years’ worth of feelings and memories wash through my mind. Julian isn’t always cruel. He isn’t always demanding. Sometimes he can be so sweet, so supportive, so funny and charming. But those times are rare and getting rarer. The more time we spend together, the more he treats me like I’m a pet who must behave to his exact specifications. We aren’t partners. He’s a dictator. And I’m tired of feeling small.

  “Ivy?” Click, click, click go the hangers. Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough.

  “Yeah. Sorry. I got distracted.”

  “Do you need to call me once you’ve gotten your thoughts together?” Click, click, click.

  “No. They’re together. And they might not come out in an order you like, but I’m going to ask you to deal with that.”

  “Deal with that?” Click, click, click. “Fine. Go ahead. Hit me with the chaos.”

  “I’m not coming back to Seattle.”

  Silence.

  “I took my engagement ring off a few days ago and have been—”

  “You did what?”

  “And have been waiting until I had my things in order to—”

  “Your things in order? What the fuck, Ivy?”

  “I’ve been waiting until I had my things in order to tell you that I don’t think we should get married.”

  There.

  It’s out in the open now.

  I’ve said it.

  He’s heard it. All that’s left is for him to accept it.

  “What things do you think you have in order?” He sounds so condescending. Like he’s talking to a child, not his future wife. “Tell me how you think this is a good idea.”

  “I’ve found a place to live. Nell is making friends at school. We’re both happier here.”

  “Happier.” He scoffs. “Who are you fucking?”

  My thoughts screech to a halt. I expected him to ask about housing. About a job. About the practical things that would make it difficult to live without his financial support. Or maybe he’d talk about how much he loves me. How much he misses me. How hard it’s been with me gone. Instead, he jumps straight to me sleeping with someone.

  “Excuse me, what?” I ask, filled with righteous indignation I haven’t earned. After all, I did sleep with Micah last night, though it didn’t happen the way Julian’s thinking.

  “That’s what’s happening, right? You found some asshole, you pretended to be a victim, and now you’re living with him instead of leeching off me?”

  “That’s not true!” I yell, even though it kind of is.

  “Then how is someone without a job, skills, or time to get one, able to find a place to live, Ivy? Hmm? Care to explain that to me? This guy, he’s richer than me, right? That’s the only way this makes sense.”

  I open my mouth on the speech I spent all night planning, then close it again. Why waste another breath on this conversation? Julian will never hear me. He never has.

  “I’m tired of explaining myself to you.” I stand, propelled into movement by the adrenaline in my veins. “I’m tired of defending everything I do. I’m tired of never being enough for you.”

  “I deserve more than this,” he replies, proving he didn’t hear a thing I said.

  “And I deserve more than you, Julian. Nell deserves more than you.”

  “I’m the best thing to happen to Nell.” I imagine his face, red and pinched and angry. A look I’ve seen so many times. Too many times. “And I’m sure as hell the best thing to happen to you.”

  “No, Julian. You’re not. You never were.” I stare into a sky so blue it hurts, surprised to find myself feeling relief instead of grief. “Have you noticed you haven’t mentioned love once? I’m breaking up with you and all you have to say is that you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. That I can’t make it without you. That I must be with someone else.”

  “Of course I love you,” he says, exhausted with the concept.

  “This isn’t what love feels like!”

  “I see, so taking care of someone, that’s not love? Please, Ivy. Help me understand. What is love?”

  The first image that pops into my brain is Micah, carrying Grandma out of her house the night of the fire, then grinning down at me as he pulled off his helmet. I hear him making sure I’d been checked out by the EMTs, his concern for me so clear in his eyes.

  I see him helping me off the ground at the grocery store, reminding me to breathe, gathering my food off the pavement then kissing me like we were still young, stupid, and in love. I see the sheer awe in which he looks at Nell, a little girl he barely knows but already adores.

  “You know, Julian. What’s that quote about porn? I can’t really define it, but I know it when I see it. Love’s the same. If you think you love me, then that’s news to me. I haven’t felt it from you in a long time. I’m not sure I ever did.”

  “This isn’t over, Ivy.”

  “It is for me.” With trembling hands, I end the call, then drop my phone onto the seat beside me. Sunlight sparkles on the pool and the palms dance in a light breeze, almost as if they’re congratulating me. I let out a breath.

  It’s done.

  And all I can do is laugh.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Micah

  “Micah Anthony Hutton. Do you care to explain yourself?”

  I pull the phone away from my ear and grimace. Even as an adult, Mom breaking out my middle name is enough to make my balls crawl into my stomach. Excusing myself, I push my chair away from the table where I’m eating breakfast with the rest of the crew at the fire station.

  I give Carson a look that says I might be in trouble, then head for the bunk room to continue the conversation in private. “It’s good to hear your voice, Mom.”

  “Don’t you play innocent with me. It doesn’t work when your father tries it, and it has never worked for you.”

  I flick on the light and grin. “It sometimes works for me.”

  “Well, it’s not working for you today. I am shocked. And hurt. And just…” She stumbles for words, huffing and stammering and wow, Mom’s genuinely upset. It’s been so long since she’s been disappointed with me that I assumed she was joking with the whole middle name thing.

  I sit on the edge of one of the beds. “What’s wrong, Mom? What did I do?”

  “What’s wrong? What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong. You’re a father. And I’m a grandmother. And your dad? He’s a grandpa. And all of that is enough of a surprise, just out of the blue, but then I find out that Ivy and this little angel are living with you. And you didn’t think that was something your dad and I should know?”

  Fuck. Of course I forgot to call my parents. And of course someone else decided to open their big mouth and tell them before I did.

  I’m going to kill Nathan for blabbing. Or Angela. Or both for good measure.

  “It all happened really fast, Mom. I didn’t intentionally keep this from you. I promise.”

  “I should hope not! We’re not the kind of family who keeps secrets, Mi. At least I didn’t think we were.”

  “We’re not. Like I said, it all happened super fast.” I fill her in on the last several days, shaking my head in disbelief even though I lived the story.

  “Wow,” she says when I’m done. “Just…wow.”

  “Nell’s really sweet. You’re gonna love her.”

  “Nell.” Mom says the name with so much love, I regret not calling her sooner.

  “Short for Penelope Michaela Cole.”

  “Michaela!” Mom immediately catches the meaning. “Oh, Micah. It’s like a fairy tale. When true love knocks, it keeps knocking until you answer the door.”

  “I don’t know, Mom. Ivy’s been through a lot. I’m still adjusting to being a dad. I’m not sure love has anything to do with us anymore. A lot’s changed since we were together.”

  For example, we’re just friends now even though I’ve been in love with her for years.

  And we agree to one-time things that will forever haunt my fantasies.

  “Sure, sure.” Mom says, hearing me and brushing me off in the same breath. “Time is funny, Mi. Sometimes days feel like years and years feel like days. You and Ivy will get to know each other again and I bet it’ll feel like no time has passed for you two.”

  “That’s kind of already true.”

  “See. True love is knocking.” She’s grinning, I can hear it. Certain Ivy and I will have a whirlwind romance like she did with Dad. “When do we get to meet little Nell? Oh! What’s her favorite dessert? I’ll bake it up and hand deliver it tonight!”

  “It might be too soon for that kind of stuff.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, shaking my head. “We haven’t even told her I’m her dad yet.”

  “Oh…”

  “Yeah. Oh. Like I said, there’s a lot going on. I can’t wait for you to meet Nell, but I want to wait until I can introduce you as her grandma, rather than just my mom.”

  “Pshh. Just your mom. It’s been an honor being your mother even when we got called into the principal’s office because you were pole dancing on the playground.”

  “Hey. What can I say? I looked up to Dad a lot, okay?”

  Carson pulls the fire truck into the parking lot at Oceanview Elementary like the pro he is, navigating the tight space better than I ever could.

  “Man. I hate doing this community outreach bullshit.” He turns to Probie. “Prepare yourself for a shitshow, my friend.”

  “What are you talking about?” I turn in my seat, genuinely surprised. “This is one of my favorite parts of the job. How can you think it’s a shitshow?”

  “Easy.” Carson slides his sunglasses onto his head. “It smells like cafeteria. The kids are shitty and loud. The seats are small. Everything is questionably sticky, and you have to act like whatever they say is gold or you might accidentally traumatize someone. What’s there to like?”

  “The energy. The honesty. The fact that they think we’re fucking superheroes and want high fives and actually care enough to ask questions, stupid or not. I love watching them get enthused because of the lights and the sirens.”

  Carson throws an arm on the back of his seat. “Do you love having to scrape the sticky off everything once they’ve toured the truck?”

  “That’s what Probie’s for.” I shrug while the poor guy grumbles and we climb out of the truck to meet the principal. She guides us into the cafeteria, where we set up for our presentation. Windows line one wall. The bulkheads are painted lime green and the walls a bright teal. The names of different classes are written like they’re in a comic book. Math! Science! Social Studies!

  It makes me think of Nell. She’d fucking love this place.

  “See.” Carson wrinkles his nose. “It smells like school lunch in here.”

  With my hands on my hips, I take a deep breath. “I find it kind of nostalgic.”

  Carson mimics me in a high-pitched voice, then rolls his eyes.

  “I feel like you’ve got a lot of baggage when it comes to school, my friend. You might want to start working through that.” I clap him on the shoulder then put some distance between us. Before Tucker’s injuries parked him on the couch, he used to love coming to these as much as I do. I always equated it to him having kids of his own, but after whatever the fuck just crawled up Carson’s ass, I wonder if it has more to do with the way we see the world.

  To me, kids are pure. Filled with hope and unformed potential. I guess Tucker feels that way too, while Carson sees work, burden, and mess. Funny how a change in perspective can change everything.

  The kids filter into the cafeteria, upping the sound levels significantly. We go through our spiel and answer questions, then invite them to tour the truck. While the teachers organize the chaos of children into tidy lines, I scan the crowd, pausing when I spot Nell, waving her hands over her head and jumping up and down to catch my attention.

  How did I not know she went to this school? My own kid…

  “Who’s that?” asks Carson, following my gaze straight to Nell.

  Shit.

  I can’t introduce him to my daughter before I introduce her to my parents. Forgetting to tell them she existed was shitty enough, but letting someone else in on the secret before they’ve met? Not gonna happen.

  “She’s the kid whose room caught fire last week. The electrical fire.” I fold my arms over my chest and pray he drops it.

  He doesn’t.

  “Oh, right. With the old lady and the hot piece of ass you couldn’t stop staring at.” Carson elbows me in the ribs. “You fuckin’ dog. You got game, Tower, I’ll give you that.”

  Ivy is so much more than a hot piece of ass and I want to break his jaw every time he says it. But I shove my hands in my pockets and clamp my mouth shut. He wouldn’t talk about her like that if he knew who she was, and I’ll explain it all.

  Later.

  When the time is right.

  The kids filter through the truck, touching everything in sight. I laugh every time Carson grimaces, his eyes darting to Probie as if to say, “See? That right there is why this fucking sucks.”

  When Nell’s class finally arrives, she dashes out of line to wrap me in a hug. I swoop her up and hold her tight, surprisingly emotional over the affection.

  “Hey, Nell Bell,” I say while her teacher comes up to pull her back in line.

  “I’m so sorry,” she says. “Nell is a little exuberant.”

  “It’s okay, Miss Wannamaker. I know him. This is the fireman that saved my grandma and he made an anonymous donation so my mom and me have a house. He lets us stay with him.” She beams, proud to have finally said ‘anonymous’ right while I inwardly cringe. Out of context, the story sounds incredibly suspicious. Carson’s giving me the side-eye. Probie’s pretending he didn’t hear. And Nell’s teacher looks like she’s deciding if she should call Child Protective Services or not.

  “This is him?” A little boy with chubby cheeks and a movie star’s smile steps out of line. “The guy?” He points my way. “The one you telled us about?”

  “Yes, Giuseppe. This is Micah. A real-life superhero.” Nell sounds so proud, the kids crowd around me, machine gunning questions about the fire.