Page 8 of Starting Over with You
Now, I do a lot of paperwork and save people from fornicating raccoons that knock over candles. The fire is contained to a desk when we reach the scene. I use a fire extinguisher to put out the growing flames, thankful nothing reached the thousands of books that Thistlebrook Library contains. I check for more flames while Garrett and his crew work to gather the raccoons and the therapy cats.
That’s more work than the damn fire was.
CHAPTER
THREE
Kenni
My arms hold the boys while Stratford and his family look through the photos they’ve taken. Since Stratford is a big part of the community here, he has people coming up to chat and bullshit, leaving me to love on the boys just a bit longer.
Flint leans in and waggles his brows. “It’s time to live your Sagittarius era.”
I snort. “First, it was the Kenleigh Colburn era, and now, it’s my Sagittarius era?”
He just grins, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief, the same look I wore often as a young teen. “Just saying, you haven’t been living your wild-child self in a long time. It’s time to tap into that.”
Ash nods. “Yeah, Mom. It’s time for you to put socks on your door.”
Flint gags a bit and smacks his brother. I can’t help but laugh. “Bro!”
“What? Mom is a baddie,” Ash declares and then flashes me alopsided grin that makes me think he’s eight and not eighteen. “You’ve lived for us, Mom. Go live for you. We’ll be fine.”
“Yeah,” Flint agrees. “We have each other.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, my voice shaking, and then they kiss my temples at the same time. “Instant best friends.” They smirk at me as I gaze up at them. “You’ll call and text?”
They both agree earnestly, and I see a glimpse of them when they were younger. When they weren’t off to college to do big things and ultimately make it to the NHL. When they were just my sweet babies.
Now, they’re men.
And all I can hope is that I did my job.
“Daily,” Ash promises.
“It’ll feel like we’re not even apart,” Flint adds, and my heart soars.
I smile brightly. “That’s how I want it.” I wrap my arms around them, and they hug me tightly. This almost feels unreal, like it’s not happening, but when we part, they both look down at me with bright-blue eyes full of so much love and excitement for me. “I love you two.”
They tell me the same before Layla and Pete pull them away for more pictures, leaving Stratford behind. I watch the boys for a moment before shifting my gaze to the man I had planned to spend my life with. When I met him, I was so enamored with his beauty. He has the highest cheekbones, the darkest green eyes, and deepest brown hair that falls ever so perfectly along his brow. I used to love how he made me feel so petite when I was in his arms and how he never ever said anything about my weight. I think that’s why I was so obsessed with him. I was always called fat by guys, but not Stratford. He loved my body.
And I hate him for making me feel safe when I wasn’t.
He looks at me, his lips curving up, and I’m instantly disgusted. How can he look me in the eye after all he’s done? His voice is full of such genuine adoration, I want to kick his shin as he tells me, “You did good, Kenleigh. They wouldn’t be who they are without you.”
“I know,” I answer unapologetically.
His eyes widen at my bold statement, and then they narrow. “Are you okay?”
I don’t answer. I haven’t been okay in six years. “Can you walk me to my car?”
His brows pull in, but he agrees, and together, we make our way through the throngs of people. All the happy, and unhappy, families coming together to celebrate their graduate. It’s quiet in the parking lot; the only sounds are the birds and bees buzzing as the June sun shines down on us. I love Wisconsin and I’ll miss it, but with my boys leaving, this place isn’t my home anymore.
When we get to my car, I reach for the door and open it as Stratford makes a noise behind me. “Kenleigh, what is going on?”
I pull the manila envelope from the passenger seat and turn to hand it to him. He doesn’t take it, his eyes moving from mine to the car and then back to mine. “Why is your car full of your things? What is that?”
I push my shoulders back, still holding out the envelope to him. “Divorce papers.”
