Page 107 of This Broken Heart

Shouldn’t we be keeping the PDA to a minimum? What if the kids wake up and notice?

As though nudged awake by the thought, Maven stirs and stretches against me.

She opens her dark eyes, staring up at me with a cute little grin. Her hand rests against my cheek. “Hi, mommy.”

It’s like Josh is pricked with a pin. His arm snakes away from my body and he pushes himself upright. “That’s not mommy, Maven. That’s Erin.”

Maven snuggles closer, glaring over my shoulder at him. “My mommy.”

I can feel the tension rolling off him. I’m almost afraid to turn around, but I force myself to. It’s a morbid compulsion to see his face. To watch whatever fragile thing we had between us crumble and fall apart.

Josh sees something in my expression, something that pokes and prods him. “You’re not.”

“Yeah, Josh. I’m aware.” I sit upright, lowering my voice. “But she’s two.”

Anguish twists his features, and he slips away, stepping into the living room.

I turn back to Maven. “Can you stay here for a minute, my dear?”

Maven settles back, propping her feet up on her brother’s stomach. Blissfully unaware of the havoc she’s sewn with one little word.

I follow Josh into the living room. It’s blessedly empty. He’s pacing by the patio door.

“What the hell, Josh?” I whisper, moving closer.

He nods at the patio. “Not here.”

I follow him outside and we leave the door open a crack in case Maven wanders out looking for us.

He faces the ocean, bare shoulders stiff against the morning chill.

“What Maven said… that doesn’t need to be a big deal.”

“It is a big deal. It’s a big damn deal, Erin.” He turns to look at me. “You’re not her mother. You can’t replace her.”

I stand there, poleaxed. Of course, I’ve let my mind wander down the path that might lie ahead for us. I’ve thought about what it would be like to raise another woman’s children.

I figured I would hear these words, eventually. Maybe from Trace. Or Maven. Just not from him.

“So, that’s how it is?” I ask, feeling my pain harden into something sharp and thick.

“I care about you, Erin. More than you can know. But Ana was there first. She’s always going to be the first.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

I study his face, the look in his eye, and it becomes crystal clear.

He’s not going to let me in. He was never going to let me in.

I think I knew that.

But my dumb ass fell in love with him, anyway.

I’ve been denying how I felt, hiding behind feelings of inadequacy to keep a buffer. But it wasn’t enough. It didn’t stop me from getting hurt.

And for the first time in a long time, I do something I never do.

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