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“Yes, I’m Everly,” she said. And I was done.
She was like no woman I’d ever met. High-spirited, to say the least. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, certainly. But more than that, she was real. Maybe it was her belief that she was meant to be with my brother that allowed her to drop all pretences with me. Shooting me dirty looks in my parents’ living room, rejecting me all the way back to Philadelphia. I’ve never been so enraptured. I knew she was attracted to me, yet fighting it tooth and nail, under some insane belief that my brother would be the perfect match for her.
Wooing her became my sole focus. Then keeping her my only concern.
Until Jake came along, knocking my feet right out from underneath me. I had a son. A four-year-old son. And the love of my life was a vivacious twenty-two-year-old who had made it clear that she wasn’t interested in having children anytime soon. And worse, I knew her feelings on exes and custody arrangements. Half-siblings and holidays spent divided. I’d never have stood a chance with her if Jake had been in the picture when we’d met.
So what was I supposed to do?
I knew she’d stay if I told her about him. But was that best for her? For Jake? Would I be forcing a child, an instant family, on her that she’d resent later?
So I sent her away.
It fucking killed me. But I sent her away. I assumed she’d find out about Jake eventually, realize that was the reason why. But I thought it’d be months down the line. She’d move on. Find someone new. Someone uncomplicated. And she’d realize it was the right thing, my ending it with her. She could have the life she envisioned for herself without feeling guilty for walking away from me.
But then she showed up that afternoon in Dilworth Park, and I watched a hundred emotions cross her face when she saw Jake, heard him call me Daddy. I couldn’t let her disappear into the subway thinking everything between us had been a lie. And then she surprised me, asking for a chance to meet Jake, to prove that not only could we make it work for us, she wanted to make it work for my son too.
I watched her fall in love with Jake over the next several weeks and it was the most absolute love I’ve ever witnessed.
Then she wrote him his own book, Forever Home. Jake’s obsessed with it. And so is the agent I sent it to. He’s got an offer for it, an offer and a request from the publisher for an additional two books. I received the email late this afternoon. Now I just need to tell Everly about it. She doesn’t think it’s good enough for the world to see, but she’s been wrong before.
“What are you doing?” I approach her from behind, bending in to nip at her neck and take a peek at what she’s up to. I’ve found it’s best to stay up to date with Everly at all times. She’s not a girl you want a step ahead of you.
She’s curled up in a corner of my couch, all of that remarkable hair piled onto the top of her head in a messy knot. She’s wearing something she refers to as yoga pants and an oversized cotton top that’s slipping off one shoulder as she taps a key on the laptop. She’s beautiful like this. Stunning, really. I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with her.
“Research,” she tells me, and I think I see a castle on the screen. Not a romantic European castle I can rent in order to fuck her in every room, but a Disney castle.
“For?” I prod.
“The honeymoon.”
“Aren’t I supposed to plan the honeymoon?” I ask, walking around the couch to sit next to her. I’m not entirely sure how all this wedding planning works, but I seem to recall that traditionally the honeymoon is the groom’s job. Then again, Everly isn’t exactly traditional.
She was like no woman I’d ever met. High-spirited, to say the least. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, certainly. But more than that, she was real. Maybe it was her belief that she was meant to be with my brother that allowed her to drop all pretences with me. Shooting me dirty looks in my parents’ living room, rejecting me all the way back to Philadelphia. I’ve never been so enraptured. I knew she was attracted to me, yet fighting it tooth and nail, under some insane belief that my brother would be the perfect match for her.
Wooing her became my sole focus. Then keeping her my only concern.
Until Jake came along, knocking my feet right out from underneath me. I had a son. A four-year-old son. And the love of my life was a vivacious twenty-two-year-old who had made it clear that she wasn’t interested in having children anytime soon. And worse, I knew her feelings on exes and custody arrangements. Half-siblings and holidays spent divided. I’d never have stood a chance with her if Jake had been in the picture when we’d met.
So what was I supposed to do?
I knew she’d stay if I told her about him. But was that best for her? For Jake? Would I be forcing a child, an instant family, on her that she’d resent later?
So I sent her away.
It fucking killed me. But I sent her away. I assumed she’d find out about Jake eventually, realize that was the reason why. But I thought it’d be months down the line. She’d move on. Find someone new. Someone uncomplicated. And she’d realize it was the right thing, my ending it with her. She could have the life she envisioned for herself without feeling guilty for walking away from me.
But then she showed up that afternoon in Dilworth Park, and I watched a hundred emotions cross her face when she saw Jake, heard him call me Daddy. I couldn’t let her disappear into the subway thinking everything between us had been a lie. And then she surprised me, asking for a chance to meet Jake, to prove that not only could we make it work for us, she wanted to make it work for my son too.
I watched her fall in love with Jake over the next several weeks and it was the most absolute love I’ve ever witnessed.
Then she wrote him his own book, Forever Home. Jake’s obsessed with it. And so is the agent I sent it to. He’s got an offer for it, an offer and a request from the publisher for an additional two books. I received the email late this afternoon. Now I just need to tell Everly about it. She doesn’t think it’s good enough for the world to see, but she’s been wrong before.
“What are you doing?” I approach her from behind, bending in to nip at her neck and take a peek at what she’s up to. I’ve found it’s best to stay up to date with Everly at all times. She’s not a girl you want a step ahead of you.
She’s curled up in a corner of my couch, all of that remarkable hair piled onto the top of her head in a messy knot. She’s wearing something she refers to as yoga pants and an oversized cotton top that’s slipping off one shoulder as she taps a key on the laptop. She’s beautiful like this. Stunning, really. I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with her.
“Research,” she tells me, and I think I see a castle on the screen. Not a romantic European castle I can rent in order to fuck her in every room, but a Disney castle.
“For?” I prod.
“The honeymoon.”
“Aren’t I supposed to plan the honeymoon?” I ask, walking around the couch to sit next to her. I’m not entirely sure how all this wedding planning works, but I seem to recall that traditionally the honeymoon is the groom’s job. Then again, Everly isn’t exactly traditional.
