Chapter 53

Lauren

The first full day in Alexander’s house felt like a strange kind of limbo, like I was living in a version of reality that didn’t quite belong to me, or a memory being painted over.

Abigail and I had moved in yesterday, but it wasn’t until this morning that the weight of it hit me. We were here. Together. Under the same roof. As a family.

I remembered when I had wished, prayed, for tiny feet to fill the hallways between Alexander and I… who would have guessed after everything, that wish would come true?

Fate has a cruel sense of humor, huh?

I tried to shake the feeling as I stepped into the kitchen, the soft clink of coffee mugs breaking the silence. Alexander was already at the counter, his back to me as he poured himself a cup. The morning light filtered through the windows, casting shadows on the polished floors and highlighting the lines of his tall, muscular frame.

He stood effortlessly, owning the space. His black shirt clung to his broad shoulders, outlining muscles that made it hard to focus on anything else. His dark hair was tousled, and the slight stubble along his jaw only added to his appeal. Even in sweatpants, he looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine—too handsome, too put together, too early in the morning.

I could feel the weight of his presence from across the room, and it made my pulse quicken against my will.

“Morning,” I said, pulling out a mug for myself. I wasn’t sure if we were still doing the “just coexisting for the kids” thing or if today was the day we’d have to face what was really happening between us. The truth I wasn’t sure I wanted to confront yet.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice low and steady, still focused on the coffee machine. I watched him for a moment, the familiar feeling of him being so close, yet so far away, settling in my chest.

I forced myself to focus on making my own cup of coffee.

Abigail bounded into the kitchen just then, her energy as infectious as always. She skipped past me, her sneakers tapping against the floor as she reached for the cereal box.

“Good morning!” she chirped, practically glowing with excitement. “Is there more cereal?”

I smiled at her enthusiasm. “Yes, it’s in the pantry. Help yourself.”

She grinned and scrambled to the pantry, her usual upbeat self. “Man, this place is huge!”

I watched her, her energy a stark contrast to the quiet tension I was feeling. I wished I could be more like her right now—unaffected, carefree.

Alexander finally turned to face me and he met my gaze for a brief second. I could see the familiar weight in his eyes, the one I knew all too well. It was the same look he’d worn when we’d been married, like I wasn’t the only one reliving memories.

“Cat Pajamas?” he asked, his voice soft, like he was testing the waters. “You still wear those?”

I nodded. “Yeah? It’s not like they’re any less cute?”

A smirk crossed his face as Abigail joined us at the table with her cereal, looking between us. “Are we going to the park today?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

I blinked, a little caught off guard. “The park?”

“Yeah!” Abigail said, bouncing in her seat. “You said we’d go after breakfast.”

I exchanged a glance with Alexander, who shrugged, a faint smile playing at his lips. “If that’s what she wants, I’m in. But we’ll have to ask Owen too,” he said, looking around. “Where is the boy—”

“Present,” Owen mumbled, crawling out of the cabinet below Alexander’s feet like some secret agent.

Alexander and I both froze, eyes wide, then slowly turned to each other, silently questioning if this was, in fact, normal. Me, his former doctor, and him, his father.

“And I like the park,” Owen added, plucking an orange from the basket and sitting next to Abigail. “Let’s go.”

We blinked before Alexander smirked, breaking the silence. “Alright, kiddo. Sounds like a plan.”

We finished breakfast, the normalcy of it oddly comforting. I hadn’t expected things to feel this… ordinary. It was strange, but part of me liked it—wished it could be as easy as Abigail made it seem.

Afterward, we piled into the car. Alexander drove with an ease that made me feel out of place. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to spend time with him, but everything felt so new, yet so familiar.

The park was a few miles away, a small patch of green surrounded by tall trees. Abigail was already running ahead, laughing as she darted toward the playground. Owen trailed behind, distracted by a slug on a leaf.

Alexander walked beside me, hands in his pockets, eyes on the kids. “I didn’t think she’d be this excited over… a muddy playground.”

I smiled, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “She’s a kid. They get excited about the simplest things.”

He nodded, then his gaze snapped to the forest’s edge. I followed his eyes. “What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said, voice tight. “Must’ve been the wind.”

I narrowed my eyes, but he didn’t give me a chance to argue as he stepped forward, the kids’ laughter filling the air.

By the time I caught up, Abigail was already on the swings, laughing as she kicked her legs higher. “Mom, look! I’m flying!” she shouted.

I smiled, letting myself forget everything else for a moment.

As the day wore on, the tension didn’t fade—it only grew. Alexander kept his distance, speaking only when necessary. He didn’t touch me, didn’t look too closely, like he was afraid I might disappear if he did.

And I wasn’t sure if I should try to change that, or just let it be.

By the time we returned home, the evening was settling in, and Abigail was buzzing with excitement, her cheeks flushed from the fresh air. Owen was quieter, his thoughts hidden behind his usual guarded expression.

We had chili for dinner. Homemade. A recipe I’ve made for Alexander before, and he didn’t seem to mind, though I could tell it stirred something in him. Still, the kids were happy, and that was what mattered.

“Can we have dessert?” Abigail asked, eyes sparkling after a few bites.

“Dessert?” I laughed. “You’ve already had so much chili.”

She grinned. “So? It’s a special day! Our first as a family! I want something sweet.”

“Family?” I muttered under my breath.

Owen didn’t say much, but I caught the twitch of his mouth. “We could always go with chocolate,” he said dryly. “Figures my sister likes chocolate more than vanilla.”

Abigail shrugged. “Um, sorry? It’s better?”

I raised an eyebrow, shaking my head. “Wait… we didn’t tell you two why we’re moving in… so you knew you were—”

“Siblings? Yeah, mommy, duh?” Abigail giggled into her fist. “It’s not hard to figure out.”

“Do you want to tell her how you figured it out?” Owen asked Abigail.

I blinked, my fork halfway to my mouth.

Abigail, to my surprise, wasn’t embarrassed. She looked proud. “We followed you.”

I stared at them, confused. “Followed me? What do you mean?”

“We saw you and Dad at the records office,” Owen said, amusement dancing in his eyes. “We knew something was up, so we followed. That’s how we found out about me. About my… mom. You.”

I was silent for a moment, the realization sinking in. “You followed me?” I repeated, my voice higher than I intended.

Abigail nodded eagerly. “We were curious! Then we figured it out. We thought you’d tell us, but you didn’t. I mean, I knew Alexander wasmy Dad but—”

“So, you saw us fight?” I cut in, mortified.

“You always fight?” Abigail shrugged.

Alexander and I both shrank back, the words stinging.

“But you like each other too,” Owen added bluntly.

“True,” Abigail pointed at him with a grin. “So, ice cream?”

The tension in the room thickened as I glanced at Alexander, who was leaning back in his chair, expression unreadable.

“I didn’t think it was the right time,” I said, finally breaking the silence. “I wanted to make sure you both were settled before I told you everything.”

Abigail gave me a look that was half disappointment, half understanding. “I get it, mommy. But it kind of feels like we never talk about the stuff we should.”

Owen didn’t say much more, but his eyes softened. “I second that.”

I exhaled slowly, my chest tight again. I had expected this moment to feel like a betrayal, but instead, it felt like something else. Like I wasn’t in control anymore. Like they were moving forward, with or without me. And I wasn’t sure how to keep up.

Just as Abigail had said, we dropped the conversation and settled into our ice cream.

As the kids happily ate, I found myself watching Alexander. He was quiet, but there was something about the way he watched me, like he was trying to read my thoughts.

Maybe the kids were right. Maybe we needed to talk. Even if it was just to start the conversation.