Page 95 of Now and Then

Bella bounces on her toes, her excitement near fever pitch. Smiling, I send the two off to explore the rest of the house and step out back. It truly is a gorgeous backyard with easy access to a park. But it’s nothing like our place.

Our place.

My stomach flops over at the thought. Am I ready to call it ours yet? It’s been a week since the Halloween party, and in that time, Easton’s crew has installed the cabinets and counters. After I’m done here with Jane and Bella, I’m headed over there to accept all the furniture being delivered.

My phone buzzes with an incoming message.

Hunter: You think my coworkers would notice if I left and moved to an island somewhere?

Me: I’m pretty sure the entire town would notice.

Me: Busy day?

Hunter: Yeah. I’m ready to be home with you.

Me: You’ll be glad to know the master will be done soon.

I swallow past the lump in my throat. Once I finish the master bedroom, he’s really got no reason to stay with me anymore.

Why does the thought of him going home—his home, the one I’ve been pouring all my energy into—make me feel like I’m about to lose something?

A strange, uncomfortable weight settles in my chest. I shift my phone from one hand to the other, staring at the message like it might have some kind of answer.

I drag in a slow breath and tuck my phone into my handbag, but the thoughts keep circling. Maybe I’m being ridiculous. Overthinking like I do everything. Maybe it’s the stress of balancing too many things at once—work, the remodel, him. I’m not sure my plate could get any fuller. I should be relieved that soon, I won’t have to share my space anymore, that I’ll have my bed to myself, my quiet mornings, my routine.

But even I know that’s a lie.

I’ve gotten used to him being there. The warmth of his body, the way he pulls me close in his sleep, like he’s not even aware he’s doing it. Even now, I can smell the scent of his soap that lingers in my bathroom along with the cup of coffee he always leaves on my bedside table before he goes to work.

It’s insane how easy living with Hunter has been.

Bella’s laughter echoes through the house. I rub my fingers against my temple, willing my brain to stop overthinking, but the thought of falling asleep without Hunter, of rolling over and finding the other side of the bed empty, sends a pang through my chest.

I push the feeling down, deep into the part of me that’s still trying to convince itself this is real, and step inside to check on the girls. I wrap up the showing, confirming next steps with Jane, and head straight to Hunter’s, arriving just as the delivery truck pulls in.

The delivery crew is quick to unload and set up all the furniture. A blessing, figuring as I’m trying to surprise Hunter with a completed bedroom tonight. The subtle blush-colored walls provide a great contrast to the darker, natural wood tones of the furniture.

I’m pulling the new crisp-white bed sheets out of the dryer when a loud knock startles me. I grab the bedding and make my way to the front door, spotting Navy through the glass, arms laden with takeout.

“Hey, girl,” I say, opening the door. “Thanks for coming over to help.”

She gives me a sideways smile and heads toward the kitchen.

“What’s that look for?” I call after her.

“Explain to me,” she says, “how you look this put together. I’m already sweating like a fiend, and I just got here.”

“It’s in my DNA,” I answer. Perfectionism is a trait I’ve had since I was young. No matter the situation, I’m put together—hair, clothes, and smile. Today, I’m in a pair of black jeans, an off-the-shoulder black sweater, and matching black booties.

“Maybe when Rowan gets older, I’ll have time to channel more of Sutton in my daily life.” Navy slides a container of chicken lo mein my way. “For now, y’all get this.” She gestures the length of her body.

I can’t contain my eye roll. “I fear you need glasses. Have you looked in the mirror today? Because you look stunning.”

She does a little twirl, showing off a floral peasant skirt she’s paired with combat boots and a hunter green sweater. Navy is too hard on herself. She doesn’t realize how effortlessly beautiful she is with wavy brunette hair, flawless skin, and curves to die for.

“Yeah, but . . .”

“Bu-wha?” I mumble around a mouth full of noodles.