Page 64 of Taking The Virgin

Even after these first days and weeks of getting our lives back to some sense of normalcy, everything is fresh, including the hole in my heart.

“Well,” Jemma says, gesturing toward the gift. “Are you gonna just sit there or are you gonna openit?”

“I didn’t expect any presents,” I say. “We should be saving every bit of money for the future.”

“Open, open…” Jake starts the chant, and the others joinin.

“Open, open…”

I tear into the wrapping, much to their delight, and then open the box. Inside are a bunch of handmade coupons.

I go through them. “A day at the beach with my favorite people in the world. Roller skating at the rink with Jazzie. A fishing trip with the boys. A gourmet meal from the budding Chef Jemma.” By the time I’m done leafing through the papers, I’m overcome, and I hug all of them to me. “Like I said, you didn’t have to get me anything. Having you guys here is all the gift Ineed.”

And Owen gave that very special gift tome…

I clear my throat and wipe away a tear as I back away from them. The boys roll their eyes at my emotion, because there’s been a lot of it lately. Some of it because I’m just so happy to be with them again. Some of it because we’ll never see our parents.

A lot of it because now, more than ever, I feel like I can’t live without the man who has such a hold on me, even if he deserted me. But if there’s one consolation, it’s that he’s in contact with his parents now—or so they’ve told me. He’s even paying for their therapy.

At least there’s a happy ending in progress there.

Jemma takes my hand and pulls me out of bed. “Up and about, Jules. The only catch to having that gourmet dinner and a birthday cake is that you need to take me to the store. Unless, of course, you want to get cracking on teaching me how to drive!”

The other kids boo at the very thought of daredevil Jemma behind the wheel, and I reach out to mess up her redhair.

“Let’s concentrate on the food first,” Isay.

After I shower and get ready for the day, I make sure the kids are squared away, then drive Jemma to the store. But even though I started out in high spirits, they wear off quickly. They always do with thoughts of Owen around to hauntme.

Jemma notices my dampened mood as we shop, but she doesn’t remark on it. The kids already know that something profound happened to me while we were all separated, but how can I tell them that I signed up to be a call girl, then I went and fell in love with my client?

As it is, they think that I’ve been running crowdfunding campaigns online that have subsidized all the miracles that have been happening to us with the house and the lawyers.

On the way home, Jemma watches me even more closely, and I know she’s about to interrogateme.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” she asks instead.

My heart mends a stitch, but there are so many more stitches I need in order to be whole again. “I love you, too.”

“I’m only telling you because I know something’s up. I’m not dumb, you know. You think that no one’s watching when you stare out the window sometimes. There’s such a sad look in your eyes, Jules.”

I only nod, feeling the numbness steal over me once again.

As Jemma keeps staring at me, I do my best to smile at her. “All that matters is that we’re together again. If I have one birthday wish, it’s that everyone would rememberthat.”

Based on the look in her eyes, she knows I have another wish that I’m keeping all to myself: I wish Owen would at leastcall.

That would be a start.

We drive down our street, and our neighbors wave, obviously elated that our house is in order again and the Hope kids have been reunited. I pull into the driveway, not seeing anything out of the ordinary at first.

Not until Jemma says, “Who’sthat?”

I don’t see whom she’s talking about until I stop the car, cut the engine, and unbuckle my seatbelt.

There’s a perfect, tall, very built man in a gray tailored suit sitting on my porch’s steps, his dark gaze trained on the car. He’s holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, a bloom of color and light. Jason, Jake, and Jazzie are all sitting next to him as if fascinated by whatever he’s saying.

He slowly stands as he seesme.

My mind scrambles, because I have to be imagining things. He can’t be here, not just out of the blue like this. It wouldn’t be like him to interrupt his rigidly scheduled life for an out-of-the-way trip for me, of all people.

It wouldn’t make sense for him to drop everything that protects him in favor of accepting me and all of my messes.

But it looks like he’s here, and as my mind clears, I can only think oneword.

Owen.

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