She shrugs, her expression tightening. “I don’t know. I just felt like I needed to be honest. With you. With myself.”
There’s a long pause, and then she chuckles lightly, the sound breathy and uncertain. “I understand the confusion. While I figure out how I feel about what happened two weeks ago—while I process—I think painting is a better way to pass the time than dating.”
I nod, waiting, sensing there’s more.
“But, Corbin?” Her voice softens, like she’s preparing herself for something. “Eventually, I will start dating. I know you moved on a long time ago, and I don’t want you to think I’m just… sitting here, pining away for you. I just—” she takes a deep breath, as if steadying herself “—I process slower than you do.”
God, she has no idea.
There are so many things I want to say.
I’m pining away for you, too. I process things just as slowly as you do. I want you, Jules. I made the biggest mistake of my life when I let you go.
Instead, I settle on the one thing that’s completely, undeniably true.
“I’m not sure I’ve moved on, Jules.”
Her breath catches. She stares at me, eyes swimming with emotions she can’t name—confusion, regret, guilt.
And something else. Something I don’t dare hope for.
Yet.
“I want us to get along,” Jules adds. “It’s been so good for Tate.”
“It has,” I agree.
“So, I’m going to paint,” she decides. “And we’re going to get along.”
“Anything else?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “I think that’s it for now.”
“Tate hasn’t forgotten anything.”
Jules sighs. “I know.”
“He’s doing good,” I tell her. I know she needs to hear it. “And you’re a good mom.”
She stands from her chair and heads back over to the window. I watch the way her hips sway in the skirt she has on, the graceful way she carries herself. Her thighs are toned and tan, but that’s not the most attractive thing about her. Her mind is. The way she just showed up here and admitted to still finding me attractive. The decision to paint instead of date. She’s not the Jules I was married to for eight years. She’s better.
And I hate to think that she’s better because she’s not around me anymore.
I wait for her to say something, but she just stands there, her back to me.
I rise from my chair and walk over to stand beside her, the heat of her body pulling me in like a current. I want to run my fingers through her hair. I want to thread my fingers through hers. I want to touch her. It’s overwhelming, this need.
“Sometimes I wonder if we made the right choice, Corbin.”
The words knock the air out of my lungs. “What do you mean?”
She licks her lips before looking up at me. “We should have tried harder for him. We should have fought like hell to give him the family he deserves. I… I live with so much guilt over the fact that we didn’t even try.”
“We did try, Jules.”
I watch as she scratches her cheek, eyes darting away. “I don’t think I did.”
She’s being incredibly honest today. That’s… new.
