CHAPTER 2 JOLENE

Despite the shitshow that was my Saturday night, somehow I sleep better than I have since…Ohio.

Sleeping next to Lincoln calms me in a way I didn't know I could be calmed.

But waking up in his arms…that's a different story entirely. My kid is in the next room, and even though I said he could sleep in, he still won't sleep past eight. And more than likely, he'll come into my room if I'm still in bed.

And so I pop up out of bed the second I wake. I check my phone and see it's a little before eight, and I reach over and shake Lincoln awake.

"Dude, you gotta go," I shout in a whisper. "Jonah's gonna wake up any second and you can't be here when he does."

"Just five more minutes," he mutters, rolling over and pulling the pillow over his head.

"Lincoln!" I'm still shouting but in a soft voice. "Wake the fuck up!"

I'm starting to get a little frantic, which is silly, but I don't want my child to catch whatever this is before we get to define what it is.

"Can't I just go out to the couch and we'll tell him I'm here with Samantha?" he suggests.

It's actually…not a terrible idea for this early in the morning after a late night where we talked and I cried and we only got about five hours of solid sleep.

"Fine, but you have to get out of here."

"Okay, okay," he mutters, and he forces himself up. He grabs his clothes and starts getting dressed. Slowly.

"Out!" I whisper, pointing at the door.

"Sorry!" he whisper yells back, and it would be comical if I wasn't panicking to get him out of here.

He glances out into the hallway, sees the coast is clear, and blows me a kiss before he closes the door behind himself.

Whew. That was close.

I take a minute to soak in that kiss he blew me, and then I rush into the bathroom to grab a quick shower. I look in the mirror and see the giant bags under my eyes—a byproduct of crying before I fell asleep, and I look like hell warmed over.

The shower helps a little, but I still feel on edge. Between Rivera's threats, whatever's going on with Jeremy, and Lincoln being here when Jonah is also here, there's just too many things that can go wrong. I still need to email my lawyer, and I tie my wet hair into a bun and grab my laptop to take it out to the kitchen to try to beat Jonah out there when I hear voices in the family room.

Shit.

I didn't beat Jonah out there after all.

I pull myself together. Fake it ‘til you make it, Bailey.

I stop short when I see the two of them sitting on the couch.

Jonah is smiling. Smiling. And laughing! As if I didn't have to go get him from his dad's house last night because he was terrified. You always hear people say kids are resilient, and maybe they are. I still think it depends on an awful lot of things, and that saying is just something people made up to make themselves feel better about the trauma kids sometimes face. But in this situation…Jonah really seems to have bounced right back.

He's happy.

And Lincoln is smiling, too. I have no idea why. I glance at the television screen and see they're watching some movie with those little yellow minion guys, and I can't honestly imagine Lincoln Fucking Nash sitting down to the Minions movie…yet here he is, laughing with Jonah over some inside joke they'll get to share now, and I'm on the outside and oddly somehow perfectly okay with it when the last thing I should be is okay with this enemy of mine having a moment with my little boy.

"Good morning, kiddo," I say to Jonah, and I essentially ignore Lincoln even though seeing him laughing with my kid on the couch does something to me.

Something terrifying.

Something that feels like forever when I already know we can't possibly have forever.

I walk over and plant a kiss on top of Jonah's head, and I'm close enough that Lincoln runs a flirty finger along my thigh without Jonah seeing.

The thought of what those fingers have the power to do to me makes me shiver, and I give him a glare.

Merriment is still in his eyes as he catches my glare, and I can't help when the glare turns to a slight giggle.

Sam emerges from the hallway rather bleary-eyed, and she freezes when she spots the three of us in her family room. Clearly she just woke up, and even more evident is the fact that she hasn't seen my note yet.

"Oh, uh…there you are," she says sort of half-heartedly to Lincoln.

"Hey babe," he calls from the couch.

And I might be hearing things, but I swear I hear Jonah mutter, "I wish you were dating my mom."

I run from the room toward the kitchen before I say something I shouldn't.

But it's clear from the laughing in there that my son is now involved in this mess, and I don't like that one little, tiny bit.

I take a quick moment to compose an email to my lawyer detailing to her what happened last night so it's on record, and then I end the email by telling her I no longer think it's safe for Jonah to go to his dad's every other weekend. I click send and hope for the best.

"Jonah, can you get dressed, bud?" I yell from the kitchen as Sam walks toward me.

"I wanna stay with Lincoln!" he calls back.

"There's pancakes and bacon in it for you!"

I hear the low rumble of Lincoln saying something to my son.

"Ugh! Fine!" he moans, and then I hear him run down the hallway to his room.

"I take it you let Lincoln in last night?" I say to Sam.

She nods. "Is Jonah okay?"

"Yeah, he's okay. I guess Jeremy came home drunk and he and Alyssa got into it. Jonah was scared and called me to come get him."

"What does got into it mean?" she asks, clearly alarmed.

"It means Alyssa was cleaning up what appeared to be shards of broken glass when I arrived."

"Jesus," she mutters. "You okay?"

"I will be when I hear back from my lawyer confirming that I don't need to continue sending him over there. I can't do it, Sam. It's awful."

"And after our fight at the event last night…just shit piled on top of more shit," she says.

I twist my lips. "More than you know." I'm referring to Rivera, which I still haven't mentioned to her, but I can't when Jonah is only seconds from hopping down the hall so we can go to breakfast.

I text my mom to let her know we're coming over, and Sam is giving me a curious glance.

"What's more than I know?" she asks.

"I'll tell you later." I scramble out of the kitchen toward Jonah's doorway. "Brush your teeth, kiddo. Then we'll go, okay?"

"Can't I hang out with Coach Nash a little longer?" he begs.

"Sorry, bud. I'm sure Mr. Nash has things to do today, and my tummy is rumbling."

"Fine," he mutters, and he heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

When I walk back into the kitchen, Lincoln is waiting around the corner, and he grabs me to steal a quick kiss.

I can't help a breathless laugh when he lets me go. "Have a good day," I say softly.

"I don't know about that," he says quietly.

"How come?"

"I got to wake up next to you and now I'm leaving you. It all goes downhill from here."

I make a sad face at him, but his words hit me straight in the chest.

I don't know how we're going to keep up this ruse—especially not if my son is going to be here every night.

But I damn well know I'm going to move heaven and Earth to figure out how.