Chapter 44

forty-four

LUKE

I tuck Lucy into bed, pulling her blanket up to her chin like she likes. Bruno is curled into a donut position at her side, but it’s not likely he will stay there. He’s got a bed on the floor with his favorite toys and blankets, but eventually he will nose under Lucy’s covers and burrow beneath them.

They’re the best of friends.

By the time I’ve made sure her lullaby playlist is coming through her speaker, her nightlight is on, her lamp is off, and there’s a clear path to the door, Ella is waiting for me on the couch in the living room.

Lucy didn’t forget about her brand new fairy tale book and requested Ella read it to her before bed. I was a little surprised, but I shouldn’t be. They’ve taken to each other like they’ve known each other forever. I stood in the doorway as Ella read Beauty and the Beast, absorbing the soft giggles and whispers as they added their own commentary.

I woke up yesterday morning in a fake relationship and I’m ending today fake engaged, but semi-real life promised to the woman waiting for me a few feet away. It sounds nuts, like an absurd romcom from the early 2000s titled something like “How to Fall in Love in 14 Days”.

Only it hasn’t been fourteen days yet, and I’m not ready to say the l-word.

Even if I’m ninety-nine percent sure, that’s what I’m feeling.

Every day with her is an adventure, one I jump into willingly. But now that L and Ella are the same person, officially, I want all of her todays and tomorrows.

I don’t want to lose more time.

“Your mom said she isn’t waiting up for either of us.” A smile plays around her lips.

“Living here has its perks, but that is not one of them.”

I drop to the couch beside her, resting an arm on the pillow on my free side.

“Do you like living here? Most of the time?”

“Lucy is never alone this way,” I reply. “You know we work odd hours.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“Most of the time, yes. I love that Lucy is growing up with her aunts and uncles and my parents. I don’t love that there aren’t any nieces or nephews for to play with.”

Or siblings. It’s a lot easier to push to the back of my mind when I don’t see families interacting daily on the farm.

The honest answer is that I want a home of my own. I want a partner. From the time Lucy was two months old, Aubrey was already checked out. I hadn’t realized how much I craved that until Ella showed up in my life and seamlessly fit herself into all the cracks.

The way she brings me my favorite coffee order, or walks around holding my daughter’s hand. The simple conversations and easy silences .

We have a rich and complicated relationship that exists in two parts.

Part One is before the gap, or the ‘blip’, if I’m being really honest about my feelings. Charlotte might actually be worse than Thanos in this instance because he convinced himself he was helping people by snapping away half the population. He wasn’t even thrilled about it. But it kept depleted resources from being a problem. Charlotte is just cruel. The only reason she snapped Ella and L out of my existence was to be cruel. And the only person who benefitted was her.

I struggled with my feelings for two separate people, unaware they were really the same. Although if I’m honest about that as well, I think a part of me always knew.

Now we exist in Part Two. We’re in a world where we have to navigate everything that happened because of the ‘blip’. Her appearance wasn’t as abrupt, but it was close. These worlds are colliding.

“If we’re going to pretend we’re engaged, don’t you think we should probably talk about Lucy’s mom?” she asks softly.

“I think we should talk about her even if we aren’t.”

I pick up her hand and run my thumb across the gemstone setting.

“I have feelings about being a step-mother. A potential step-mother,” she amends quickly.

“This isn’t a fairy tale, Ella. I don’t think you have an evil bone in your body, so I really don’t think you need to worry about it.”

Her eyes round like the sad emoji Gaby likes to send when I tell her we’re not expanding the cafe library on the farm.

“Tell me your feelings.”

“What if I’m not good at it?” she whispers. “I don’t know how to be a mom. I didn’t even know about Paw Patrol.”

“The fact that you’re even worried about what kind of step-mom you might be someday tells me you’ll be amazing at it. Do you think Charlotte ever cared?”

“I know she didn’t.”

“Then you’re already ahead of the game.”

I should be worried that we’re already having this conversation, right? We’re not just moving fast, it’s like we’re trying to break a Grand Prix record of whirlwind romances.

But… are we?

Even if Ella and I didn’t spend heaping amounts of alone time together, we grew up together. I know her. I know the Ella from our secret letters, and the one that’s sitting on my couch. They’re all the same person, and I’ve had feelings for her for years. I think it’s safe to say she feels the same.

“Did you love her?”

I blink in surprise. Ella doesn’t hold back.

“I think I loved her, yes. But I’m not sure I was ever in love with her.”

It’s a complicated answer, but it’s the truth. And if we’re going to be in a relationship, she deserves the answers that aren’t always cut and dry.

“What’s the difference?” She draws her knees up, tucking her toes under a blanket she’s covered herself with.

“You’re asking all the hard questions today.”

“Try,” she shrugs.

“Well. When you love someone, you care deeply for them. You let them into pieces of your heart you don’t share with other people very often.”

“And when you’re in love?”

I swallow, considering.

“You’d set the world on fire for them. If you’re lucky enough, they’re also your best friend. You count down the minutes until you know you’ll see them again, simply because you enjoy their company. It’s everything you’d feel when you love a person, just magnified. More vivid.”

Silence hangs between us for a few long minutes. I worry I’ve been too honest, but I’m not always great with words. Love is complicated. I wrestled with that emotion often where Ella and L were concerned. And now I know why.

But it doesn’t make it any easier to explain to someone.

“When did she leave?”

“When Lucy was a baby. The night before she left, things didn’t really seem that different. I thought about it a lot, especially in the beginning, because I wondered what I’d missed. The farm keeps me busy, and she hated the hours, but that wasn’t anything new.”

“She hated the farm?” Ella’s eyebrows raise high on her forehead.

“I know. That should’ve been a red flag.”

“Not to pour salt in your wound, but yes. You and the farm are a package deal.”

Hearing Ella say that heals a piece of me that’s been broken almost Lucy’s whole life. She’s right, we are. Just like Lucy and I are. It’s a lot to accept.

But I know that the person sitting beside me on the couch would embrace it all in a heartbeat.