Page 71 of Backup Plan

It feels devastating.

I fight off the tears, though. I won’t ruin what little time we have left with these intrusive thoughts. That’s life, right? It’s something I try to live by example for my kids. We can’t dwell on what we don’t have; instead, it’s important to appreciate what we do have.

And so I’ll appreciate this time with Liam, and when he’s in San Diego and I’m here fighting Brent alone again, I’ll remember and appreciate the magic of what we share when we’re together.

I’ll hope against hope we can find our way back to each other, all the while knowing it’s not likely very realistic for a twenty-six-year-old NFL star to come back to a thirty-three-year-old single mom of two young boys with any other intentions than a few nights of pleasure here and there…no matter how much I wish it could be different.

I return the favor by sucking his cock, swirling the tip on my tongue, memorizing not just the way he tastes but the sounds he makes and the way his strong hands hold my head in place and the way he shoves his hips into my mouth harder and faster when he’s getting close. The way he freezes for just a beat before he spills into my mouth and the way his eyes glow with adoration when I swallow down every last drop he expels.

The way he pulls me into his arms and carries me to his bed. How he carefully removes the pins from my hair, carries me to the shower, and washes me when I’m so damn tired I can barely move a muscle. The way he tucks me into bed and slides in beside me, and the way neither one of us can help but turn into each other and make love one more time before we quietly fall asleep together.

I dream of a life where we could actually make this work, where we could be together and happy in front of my best friend, where my ex-husband wasn’t a meddling asshole intent on making my life miserable for reasons I still can’t quite wrap my head around. Where I could feel like he’s choosing me for love and not for how I could help him.

And when morning dawns, I should feel refreshed after sleeping in Liam’s arms the whole night through. I don’t. Instead, a sadness pulls down over me, a sadness I’ll carry with me all day as we meet the Bradley family for a post-wedding brunch and then attend Archer’s baseball game here as the Vegas Heat is visiting the hometown team.

I slip out of bed and head downstairs to make some coffee, and I sip it quietly on the balcony as I stare out at Liam’s view, standing and leaning over the railing in pretty much the exact same way I always tell my kids not to.

He said I could stay here with the kids, but I suppose it’s probably time to figure out some sort of permanent living situation. I can’t just stay here forever.

To be clear, I want to. But I can’t.

He deserves to be happy with someone who isn’t just his own age but who is in the same city as him. Even as I think it, I realize how ridiculous the notion is. He’s going to have a newborn. Maybe he’ll find a cute, young nanny in San Diego and spend time with her.

The thought makes me feel a bit ill, truthfully. My stomach twists violently.

I don’t want him to get with his cute, young nanny.

“Good morning,” he says, and I jump, startled. “Sorry,” he says as he sidles up beside me.

“I didn’t hear you come out.”

“It’s windy this morning,” he says, and he’s right. The wind whipping on the balcony is loud. “Are you okay?”

I let out a heavy sigh.

He walks over and pulls me into his side. “Yeah. I feel about the same.”

I twist my lips as I rest my head on his shoulder. “I can’t stop thinking about how everything is going to change, and I don’t really want it to.”

“I don’t, either. And to be honest, Pen, I’m not sure how to do all this without you. Alone.”

“You won’t be alone,” I say softly. “You’ve got Madden close. You’ll have family to lean on.”

“Yeah,” he mutters. “But they’re not you.”

I turn into him, hugging him tightly. He holds me, and we stay out there just embracing until we need to head in to get ready for brunch.

Just before we leave, he grabs my hand. “Will you just…stand here with me while I make a call?” His quiet vulnerability kills a little piece of me.

“Of course,” I say, and I offer a small smile as I squeeze his hand.

He dials and puts the phone on speaker so I can hear, too.

“Hi, Liam,” a female voice answers.

“Hey, Izzy. What do you need for the DNA test?”

“We make an appointment at a lab to swab your cheek in person. They’ll run a test with my blood and let me know in a week or so. That’s how it went with the other guy, anyway,” she says. She sounds tired and defeated.