Page 50 of One More Chance
"Just wondering. I, uh…” I started, then paused, rubbing my palms together. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Or maybe… bring up.”
She glanced at me over the edge of her book. “Levi, if this is about trying any of the things in this book, I should warn you: this hero does Pilates, rescues dogs, and has the stamina of a Greek god. You cannot compete.”
I blinked. “Okay, well, I was going to ask if you wanted tea, but now I feel personally attacked.”
She smirked. “You walked into it.”
“This is why men stick to talking about weather and traffic.”
"Well, Levi… you are tragically real.”
“Great. What every man wants to be: tragic and real.”
She put the book down. "You were not going to ask me about tea. Stop delaying. What's wrong, Levi?" Her expression didn’t change much, but I saw her posture shift, guarded, bracing for bad news.
“I know it’s soon. I know things are still raw and I want to respect your space, your boundaries.” I met her eyes. “But I’d like to come back. Home. Not only crash in the guest room occasionally, or help with the kids. I mean really move back in. Start again.”
Sloane blinked as the silence between us stretched.
“Levi…” she whispered, “I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
“I get it. I do. I’m not asking for an answer tonight or tomorrow. It's just… being here, helping with them, being around you…”
Her lips parted like she might speak, but no words came. A slow exhale.
“I’m not asking you to forget or forgive,” I said. “Maybe… consider.”
Finally, she nodded. “Let me sleep on it."
I stood and brushed her arm with my fingers before leaving. “Of course. Do you mind if I crash in the guest room again? So I can help with the morning routine?”
She nodded, “Sure. Goodnight, Levi.” She gave me a tired smile and went back to reading her book. As I walked towards the stairs to head up to the guest room, I saw Rufus at the front door still. Staring. Guarding.
And in my back pocket, the note from Angie burned against my leg.
Chapter 18
The next morning I was up before the rest of the family, silent in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the kids: eggs, toast, some fruit if they remembered to eat it.
Sloane hadn’t said anything last night beyondlet me sleep on itbut her voice had lingered in my head. She'd sounded soft and uncertain. I replayed every syllable, every pause.
I heard the creak of the hallway floorboards and turned to see her step out of the bedroom, wrapped in a robe. Her face was still pale, even paler than it was last night.
“Hey,” I said.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she froze, eyes wide for a second, then bolted straight to the bathroom.
I dropped the spatula and followed her without thinking, but hesitated at the doorway. The sound of her retching sent a chill through me. Rufus whined behind my legs.
I knocked lightly. “Sloane?”
She didn’t answer for a second, then managed, “I’m fine. I need… a minute.”
I backed off, but didn’t go far.
A few minutes later the door creaked open. Her face was damp with sweat and her hair stuck to her temples. But what stunned me wasn’t her condition, it was the haunted look in her eyes: guilt, fear, and something I couldn't pin a name to. She walked past me and leaned against the hallway as I waited.
“I was going to tell you,” she said, voice hoarse. “I needed to be sure.”
