Page 37 of One More Chance
“How is Dawn, really?” I asked, already bracing myself for the answer.
She shrugged and avoided meeting my eyes. “My sister? Still loud. Still eccentric. Probably wore a tiara to her last therapy session. Told me I should’ve kicked you out years ago when things first started to go bad.”
I winced. “Yeah… can’t really argue with her there. I know she's never been my biggest fan, but I've always liked her.” She was a loving sister who was fighting for Sloane's peace. How could I not admire her?
Sloane didn’t respond. She kept staring out the window as if she were searching for something.
“I moved those shelves down like you wanted,” I said, pointing toward the reinstalled pantry rack. “And I added those bins for the kids’ snacks... figured it might help mornings go smoother.”
“I can see that. Looks like you also rearranged the living room.” She still had her back to me.
“Yeah. I remembered you said it felt too cramped with the ottoman in the middle. I figured more open space might feel less chaotic.”
She hummed a noncommittal sound as she went back to putting away snacks in the pantry. “And the lighting?”
“Yeah, I went out and got new bulbs. Warm tone. You always said the old ones felt like a hospital waiting room.”
She paused with a bag of popcorn in her hands, finally turning to look at me. Her expression was thoughtful and measuring as she said, “I didn’t think you were listening back then.”
“I wasn’t. Not the way I should’ve been. But I am now.”
She stared at me, searching my face for a moment, then turned to place the popcorn in a bin and continued to unpack. When she spoke next, her tone was lighter, yet still layered in fatigue. “Well… it doesn’t feel like a frat house anymore. So, that’s something.”
I smirked. “High praise. I’ll take it.”
She gave a barely-there smile. I handed her a box of granola bars as I stood by her side.
“Did you sleep okay while we were gone?” she asked casually, like it was an afterthought.
I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to burden her with the truth. “No. No, not really.”
She didn’t look at me, but I saw the twitch in her jaw. There was a part of her that still cared for me, even when she wanted to bury it. She nodded. “Me neither.”
“Yeah… I'm noticing that.” I reached out to gently touch her cheek, brushing a thumb over the soft skin under her dark circles. "You sure it wasn't all those rope drops and early hours running to the rides that got you?"
She did look at me then and her face softened for a second, as if I'd managed to penetrate her armor. I stared into her eyes, those perfect hazel eyes flecked with golden embers that danced in the sunlight when she laughed.
She said, “I'm sure." Then her gaze fell to the dark circles I knew were under my own eyes. "You had a rough time.”
"Yeah, I did." I was struggling and she knew it. I was desperate to tell her about my nightmares and what had happened with Angie, but it had to wait.
Fuck me, she looks exhausted.
“These last few days have been hard. A hell of a lot harder than I thought they’d be,” I said, my voice rough with truth. “I’ve had a lot of time to reflect. I've missed you three so much… I've missed you more than I know how to explain. I've missed howrightyou make everything feel just by being near me. You are my everything, Sloane. You, the kids... hell, even Rufus.”
The words spilled from me into the space between us. All these things the Old Me had never been brave enough to say, that he'd buried under layers of pride, shame, and denial. Things I was afraid to face.
Sloane watched me with crossed arms and an unreadable face. Her silence was palpable enough to strangle me.
Desperate to break the mounting tension, I said, "I took care of everything around the house you've been asking for... do you like it?"
Then, finally, she spoke. Her voice was calm when she asked, “Do you think handling the things that I asked you to - mind you, a year ago - cancels out how much of an asshole you have been, Levi?”
Her words hollowed me out, carved out a cold pit where my heart had been. I stared at her, open mouthed and dumbstruck, before I realized she hadn't asked a rhetorical question; she was waiting on an answer.
I wish she was strangling me instead.
"Hell no," I said, shaking my head. "Absolutely not. Of course it doesn't." I floundered, desperate and drowning. I grasped at something,anything, my frightened mind thought could help in that moment. "I also did all of the cleaning, dinner is in the oven, laundry is done, and I made the kids' school lunches for tomorrow... I wanted to knock out as much as I could before you got home."
