Page 107 of Beautifully Messy
Not to what it was, but to something entirely our own.
2023
She found her song not in the silence after pain,
but in the harmony of all her broken and beautiful notes.
Thirty-Three
Thefamiliarwoodencabinstands as I left it—stoic in the falling snow, unchanged by time—while everything in me has shifted. In the year since I last stood on this porch, I’ve dismantled my entire life and rebuilt it on my own terms. Brick by brick, I laid the foundation of the life I was meant to live.
It's taken me so long to reach this moment. Four years of wanting what I couldn't have, fighting what I shouldn't have denied, all while trying to be someone I was never meant to be. The woman who feared happiness, who believed she didn't deserve it—that woman’s gone.
I told James that I needed to find myself before I could find us, and that's exactly what I've done.
Starting my own family practice meant stepping into a life that had been waiting for me. I still remember my first client, the moment her shoulders relaxed when she realized she wasn’t alone. I've reclaimed friendships that withered during my marriage. Jules remains my cornerstone, but now she’s surrounded by a constellation of other connections: running groups on Saturday mornings, book club every third Thursday. The brownstone I bought is filled with overstuffed chairs, thriving plants, and color bursting from every corner. It’s the opposite of the sleek condo I shared with Mason.
So many times, my fingers hovered over James’s name in my contacts, but I never touched it. Not because I didn’t want to reach out, but because I needed to finish what I started.
And I didn’t want to give Mason any fodder if he challenged my divorce proceedings or custody requests. I kept our communication cut off, hoping it would lessen the chance Mason would fight back. In fact, James and I have had no contact in a year, until two days ago when a text appeared out of the blue:
Skating Stud:I’m at the cabin. Can you come on the 22nd?
Now, two days later...I’m standing on the precipice of the life I’ve spent the last four years dreaming about. I asked him to wait. I hope his text means that he has. I take a deep breath, pushing down the stomach-curdling fear that he hasn’t.
“Is Unca J here already?” Anna asks, bouncing on her toes.
“Should we go inside and see?” I keep my voice light despite the weight of what awaits.
Jules is the only Wallis who knows the whole story. I’ve been helping maintain the illusion, not for Mason’s sake, but for Anna’s. Every time Gary and Margaret visit, Anna and I play along like a happy family. I’ve been pressuring Mason to tell them the truth for months. Finally, he asked me to come for one last holiday, promising we’d tell the family in person.
I think he hopes this place might pull me back into his world.This place is magical, but it’s not miracle-working because that’s never going to happen.
Together, Anna and I walk into the cabin, ready to face whatever comes next. The quiet strikes me immediately. No kids racing down the hall, no laughter from the kitchen. Green garland wraps its way up the staircase, mistletoe dangles, and white twinkle lights frame the windows. Margaret’s touch is everywhere, but she’s nowhere to be seen.
Even Anna hesitates, staying close, feeling it too. A strange hush that doesn’t belong here.
“Kind of eerie, huh?” a deep voice murmurs from behind—his voice. The sound of it, low and familiar, wraps around me before I even turn. Goosebumps ripple across my skin as the timbre sinks in. Rougher than I remember, maybe deeper. Or maybe it’s that I’ve missed it for so long. I don’t have to look to knowhe’s smiling. “Feels like the setup to a thriller. A man, a woman, and a child enter a quiet wooden cabin.”
“Unca J!” Anna shrieks and crashes into him.
I turn slowly, finally allowing myself to look at him. He’s kneeling to catch Anna, his arms open wide, that dimple deepening as she launches herself at him. The sight hits me with a wave of certainty. While this year has been everything I needed, one thing is missing. Him.
“Hey, Bug,” he says, scooping her up. His eyes lift to mine over Anna’s head. “I missed you.”
“Hi,” I say simply, feeling strangely calm despite the storm in my chest.
“Hi.” His voice is carefully neutral and utterly infuriating. “Can I help you carry your things upstairs?”
A question, not a statement or demand, and a reminder of how low my expectations had sunk, how carelessly Mason treated me. With James, I’ll always have the choice.
“Thank you.” I pass him one of the bags. “I’ve got the rest.”
“Margaret and Gary are in Florida,” he says, voice even despite the anxious way he keeps rubbing his beard. “But they’ll be here tonight.”
I look over at him as I ask, “Where’s Ivy?”
“I don’t know. Not sure if she knows I’m even here.”
