Chapter 1

1

Davey

Two Years Later

My gut is tied in knots as I take a car from the airport to home, still reeling that I have an entire twelve weeks ahead with my family.

The last time this happened was … never. For the last eight years, I've been working my ass off for Dayton PR with two straight weeks in the office, followed by two weeks working from home, and now … the promotion to marketing director has never felt so good. Negotiating leave for Christmas and extended remote work for the holiday period was hard-won, but goddamn it, I was determined.

My head swims at the freedom these next three months will bring. Home with my kids and my husband— ex -husband. I shake my head, hoping the reminder will sink in this time. The divorce was amicable, it was what Mack needed, but everything has been so complicated since.

I should have at least moved out of the family home, but with Van and Kiera still so young and me home only half of the month, it didn't make sense to get my own place where my time with them would be even more limited.

So I'd stayed.

Moved as far as the spare room, and every time I'm home, I develop the deepest kind of insomnia, thinking about Mack, asleep in our bed on the other side of the wall.

I swallow roughly, gripping the bag at my feet tighter. It's filled to the bursting with Christmas gifts, even though I know Mack more than has it covered, but every day I've been gone this last month, I've been thinking about them.

My son, my daughter, my ex -husband. Those three will always be the world to me, no matter how legally separated we are. No matter how much Mack might think I put my work first. Everything I do, it's always for them.

The car pulls up out the front of our home, and the warmth I get every time I'm here never fails to catch me off guard. Deep peace settles into my bones, and I get to live with that feeling for three whole fucking months. Nothing to take me away. Nothing to split my attention.

My grin spreads across my face as I jump out and meet the driver at the trunk, where he's already pulling my suitcase out.

"Thanks so much."

He flicks me a wave, jumps back in the car, and takes off.

I turn back to the house and catch two little faces popping up in the window curiously. Their eyes land on me, and Kiera's whole face lights up .

"Daddy!" I'm not sure if I can actually hear her over the breeze or if her voice is embedded in my brain, but the second her lips form the word, Van's little face lights up too, and they both disappear.

I jog for the front door and reach it just as Kiera throws it open and jumps into my arms. Van clings to my leg, and I scoop him up too, taking a minute to squeeze the ever-loving shit out of them. Van wriggles in my grip, stuttering out a barely formed sentence that I have no hope of understanding.

I raise my eyebrows at Kiera. "What did he say?"

"He wants to show you his trucks."

Well, thank goodness for that. I thought he'd said something about fucks.

"Davey?"

I set the kids down, using the moment to steady myself before glancing up at Mack. My smile isn't anywhere near as insane as it was for the kids, but it's there anyway. How this man can make me both so happy and so fucking sad at the same time, I'll never know. "Don't tell me you've forgotten what I look like already."

He rolls his eyes and meets me in the hall, where he hauls me into a hug. "We didn't think you'd be home until next week."

My hands find the place on his lower back where they fit so well. "I know." Him being happy to see me has me feeling smug. "I wanted to surprise you."

"We're surprised." He steps back suddenly, breaking the amazing contact between us, and that's the last chance I'll get to hold him again until I leave.

Van tugs at my arm. "Fuck. Fuck."

"Well, that's new," I say to Mack.

He looks bewildered. "It's truck. I swear. "

"Big fuck. Biiig fuck. See. See."

"Go let him show you," Mack says. "I'll take your stuff up to …" He clears his throat, and I know he'd been about to say our room . "I'll take it up."

"Thanks."

I follow Van into the living area, where toys are spilled all across the rug. The mostly empty bowls from their dinner are sitting on the coffee table, where they've clearly just finished eating, and it's a way too obvious reminder of them going on with their lives without me.

It's hard to be grateful for three months when Mack gets to have this always.

I wonder if he knows how lucky he is?

Van and I zoom cars around on the floor while Kiera grabs one of her schoolbooks to show me all the art she's working on. I missed her first day of kindergarten, which killed me, but thankfully, kids are kids, and that's not something she probably even thinks about.

A bowl of stir-fry is set down beside me, and my stomach immediately growls.

"Figured you'd be hungry after that flight," Mack says. "I know how much you hate airplane food."

"It's the worst," I moan, snatching up the bowl. Fuck, I love Mack's cooking. It's nothing fancy or special, but it tastes like home. "Damn, this is so good."

Mack's cheeks take on that pinkness that I love as he rubs a hand over his lips, trying not to smile. "It's noodles and sauce from the packet. All I did was cook the meat and throw it all together."

"No one knows how to throw prepackaged ingredients together like you do—" I cut off before I can call him baby.

I'd thought that it would get easier. That after the divorce papers were official, it would sink in that he's not mine anymore, and I'd find it easier to move on. I even made a dating profile and everything.

The problem is, he's still my best friend. It's always awkward when I first get home and right before I leave again, like my presence disrupts the dust of our relationship and the reasons for our fights. But once the awkwardness fades, it goes back to how it's always been between us. Easy. Light. He's my favorite person.

It's why I keep ignoring that voice telling me I need to make other arrangements.

"So …" He sits on the arm of the couch, crossing his arms and his legs at the ankle. "You're home early. What does that mean for Christmas? Will you be here?"

Given that every year, I only get two weeks off, I'm not surprised that he's asking. It does hurt that he thinks potentially missing Christmas with my family—especially when the kids are at such a fun age—is something I'd do.

"You have to be," Kiera cuts in. "How will Santa know where to leave your presents if you're not at home?"

I poke her belly. "I'll be here. I wouldn't want Santa forgetting about me, after all."

"You will?" The hope in Mack's eyes gets me right in the chest, and I know he's trying to calculate. It's the start of November; if I'm here for two weeks, gone for two weeks, then back home for two, that would mean that I'd be gone over the holidays. We have a lot to talk about.

"Yeah," I croak. "I got some extended time at home."

"How long?"

"Twelve weeks. I've done a lot for the company, and it's about time they gave me something back. "

"Twelve … weeks?" Mack doesn't look as thrilled as I'd been hoping for. "Huh. Okay."

"Is that a problem?"

" No . No problem. It's just …"

"The longest time we've spent together since before we got married?"

His clear blue eyes meet mine, all wide and unguarded. "Exactly."

"I won't get in your way, don't worry. But I'll be here to take some of the stress off your shoulders for a bit."

He bites at this thumbnail. "And at the end of the twelve weeks, you'll go again?"

"Well, yeah. That's my job."

His lips turn down.

"Hey, I thought this would be a good thing."

"Yeah, I know," he mutters. "That's the problem."

My good mood crashes. "You don't want me here?"

He opens his mouth but snaps it shut again. "It's fine. We'll be fine."

"Fine?"

"And this is a picture I did of a reindeer!" Kiera shrieks, holding up a scribbled body that almost looks like it could be some kind of animal.

"Wow," I say as Mack disappears into the kitchen. "How did you get so talented?"

"Lots and lots of practice."

I hand over the little car I'm playing with and kiss her on the hair. "Play with Van for a minute?"

She drops down onto the carpet, and I go through to where Mack is gripping the edge of the sink.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"I don't wanna … "

"Mack, come on."

He shakes his head. "You'll feel bad."

"Yeah, well, thinking my hu— you don't want me around is sort of already doing that." I watch as he takes a deep breath and lets it out before turning to me.

"They're always so upset when you leave. And that's after only a few weeks. What will months be like?"

Well, way to make the guilt hit hard.

"What are you saying? Do you want me to leave?"

He looks horrified. "Of course not."

"Then move out, or … is it going to be too hard for you?"

"No, I don't want you to go."

"Then what is it?"

He gives me those big, sweet puppy dog eyes that never fail to melt me. "I don't want you to go ."

And there it is. The one and only problem between us that ended up being too big to fix.

"Yeah," I say, rubbing my knuckles over a knot in the wooden kitchen cabinet. "Some days, neither do I." He lights up, and I hurry to continue. "But I have to. You know that."

"Right."

We linger in a prolonged silence.

"It's bedtime," he finally says. "You want to do the story?"