Page 39 of One More Chance
“So, I’m cute, huh?” I asked, grateful that this was the moment we’d landed on.
"Cute enough to survive,” she said with a shrug. Her lips curled into a grin that reminded me of everything I loved about her.
I watched her as she pulled out suitcases and set them in the driveway between us. She was perfect. Perfect in a way I didn’t deserve. Yet here she was, still standing in front of me, still making me laugh
"Damn right I am cute," I said, as I lifted her suitcase and headed back towards the house.
I'm fucking adorable.
Chapter 15
That night, after the kids were asleep, we sat on the couch together decompressing. I turned to her and said, “I know the kids had fun, but be honest… did you have a good time?”
She shifted, pulled the throw blanket over her legs and nestled into her corner of the couch. I watched her snuggle into the cushions and was, for the first time ever in my life, furiously jealous of a couch cushion.
“Yes,” she said with a large exhale. "It was a much-needed break. The kids loved the hotel, and the pools were actually relaxing. I even got to read for a bit.”
“That’s rare,” I said, trying in vain not to stare at her. “What book?”
“Some thriller Violet picked out for me. It was terrible in a fun way.” She smiled, then looked over at me. “You’d have hated it.”
“Probably.” I chuckled. “And the rope drops?” I teased, nudging her foot gently with mine, hoping for a spark of our old rhythm.
She rolled her eyes with a smirk. “Don’t get me started. Liam practically dragged us out of bed before dawn like he was the one paying for the goddamn trip.”
“Sounds about right. The boy has military precision when it comes to coasters and churros.”
She actually shivered. “Ugh. I hate the lines for the rides the most. I saw a grown man nearly trample a toddler to be first in line. Honestly, I don't know how people can plan all that."
I laughed. “Yeah, well… it’s supposed to be a magical place.”
She rolled her eyes. “More like a mental place. PTSD from the dining reservations, the color-coded itinerary, and the fact that I needed a PhD to book a quick pass. I was setting alarms at 6 a.m. just to get a reservation for a restaurant where the gluten free waffles cost more than my dignity.”
"Are you sure you had a good time?" I asked with playful, mock concern.
She took a deep breath and nodded. "I did, yes… despite the stressful parts."
We sat in silence for a moment. I looked at her. I found her so adorable, the way she sat curled on the couch like a cat, and my heart ached to hold her and be held by her in turn. I thought of a hundred different ways to tell her how much I loved her.
Instead I said, “I’m grateful the kids still have you."
She frowned and her gaze narrowed. “They have you too, Levi. Don’t talk like you’re already halfway out the door again.”
Halfway out the door again.
I jolted upright as my voice flooded out in a rush. “No! Not that, never again that.”
Her gaze scoured my face as she pondered my words. I knew she was discerning my sincerity, and the moment between us was taut with silence before she said, “Good boy. Because that would contradict all the groveling you've done over the last few weeks.”
Those two words filled me, nearly to bursting, and I felt my heart explode with joy from her praise.
I'm a good boy.
She seemed to struggle with what she said next. “When things first started to fall apart… you filled my head with so many hollow excuses and empty promises. You lied about you, about us… goddammit Levi, I can’t help but hear the echo of those lies every time you talk like you're vanishing.”
I scooted closer and said, “I know I’ve given you every reason to doubt me and I can’t erase what I've done… but I’m here. For real. This time, I’m not simply saying the right things. I’m doing the right things. Every day.”
She didn’t speak right away as her fingers absently rubbed the edge of her sleeve, an anxiety sign I knew as her way of processing emotions too heavy for words.
