Eligible Ex-husband - Marie Johnston Page 0,9
underwear on, but I’ve been slumped on my bed since. The wet towel from my hair is on the floor. I’d get after the girls for that, but I can’t bring myself to pick it up yet.
I didn’t realize you felt that way.
He also doesn’t realize that’s the crux of the problem. We were such good communicators and then he just… quit listening.
A knock at the door startles me. I jerk a sheet over myself. I didn’t lock the door, dammit.
“Mom,” Abby calls. “Can we watch TV?”
I nearly answer before I recall that Simon’s here to be with them. “Ask your dad.”
Footsteps scurry away and I hear Simon get bombarded with requests for TV and breakfast in front of the TV. A smile touches my lips. Abby’s quick to capitalize on her dad’s presence. There’s no food allowed on the carpets and she knows it.
His deep voice filters into the bedroom. I can’t make out the words, but the vibrations course through my body. He has a nice voice. Deep and resonant. I close my eyes and listen.
Shaking myself, I dart for the closet and dress in jean shorts and a T-shirt. I pack a tote with books and a tablet—both paper and electronic.
My hair is all over the place as usual. I tame it into a braid and my shoulders are aching by the time I’m done. I drop my arms and stare in the mirror. My traitorous mind superimposes the image of Simon behind me, his fingers working through my hair.
“Then I do what again?”
I giggle. “Grab another hunk and cross it over between the fingers of your left hand.” My scalp pinches as he tries to tug the curls free. “Ouch.”
“I’m so sorry, babe. I need to quit.”
“No. You can do it. You’re good with your hands.”
His heated stare meets mine in the mirror. “You know it.”
And he did. He braided my hair until after Maddy was born and life got too busy. I’d sit between his legs in bed and he’d comb and tame the locks into a thick braid.
God, I missed my husband.
I spin on my heel and walk out. “Girls, I’m taking off.”
“Mom.” Maddy skids around the corner in her pink and white nightgown. Her hair is bunched up behind her head and I feel sorry for the comb that has to deal with that. She doesn’t take getting her hair brushed, but she’s too young to do it well herself. “I have a picture for Nana.”
She hands over a sheet of paper with two stick figures on it. I can only assume they’re my parents. “She’ll love it. Thanks, honey.”
Abby comes over for a hug and I purposely keep my back toward the kitchen where Simon’s clunking bowls and spoons around.
“Tell Nana we wish her the best.” Simon ignores how I’m ignoring him. “And we’ll visit as soon as she’s ready.”
I look over my shoulder. He’s looming over the island with two bowls and two glasses. My heart tugs. He’s making breakfast for the girls. It’s only cereal but it’s enough to remind me of the husband I lost when his brother died three years ago.
I give the girls one last hug. “I’ll give her big kisses from you all.” Before I head toward the door, I hitch the tote over my shoulder and steel myself to look at Simon again. “Thank you.”
He comes around the island and holds out a ziplock bag with a wrap inside. “A Nutella and banana wrap. You didn’t eat breakfast, right?”
“Right.” I planned to grab a bite at the cafeteria on my way to Mom’s room. Or just go hungry until I traded out with Dad, which was the more likely scenario. Once I got to the hospital, I’d be too antsy to swing through the cafeteria and wait in line.
He hands over a bottle that I didn’t notice before. “OJ.”
I nod numbly and stumble toward the door to the garage with my load in my arms. He made me breakfast. A wrap takes less than five minutes, but the thought behind it speaks volumes.
I spent months before our divorce missing my husband and he was under the same roof.
I have to keep reminding myself that this guy is only the aftereffects of Simon. Like the tremors after an earthquake. Our marriage is over, but my world still needs to settle. Simon’s here, but he’s not my husband. A fault line cracked open and we’re living on separate sides.
Chapter 4
Simon
“Dad, look at the picture I drew.”
I’m hunched