Chapter 147
For the first time in what felt like forever, the house was quiet. Tammy and her father had left early in the morning to deal with some family issue, and the atmosphere had shifted dramatically. The usual tension that clung to the walls like a fog had dissipated, leaving behind a rare sense of peace.
I stood in the kitchen, sipping my tea and enjoying the stillness. The twins were playing in the other room, their laughter echoing softly down the hall. It felt like a normal day, something I hadn’t experienced in ages.
Jake walked in, shirtless and freshly showered, his dark hair still damp and tousled. I nearly choked on my tea.
“Morning,” he said gruffly, heading straight for the fridge.
“Good morning,” I replied, my voice a little higher than I intended.
He grabbed a bottle of water and leaned against the counter, his piercing gaze settling on me. “What’s with the look?”
“What look?” I asked, quickly averting my eyes.
Jake smirked, taking a sip of his water. “You’re staring.”
I flushed, turning my attention back to my tea. “I was not.”
“Yes, you were.”
“No, I wasn’t!”
He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling. “Whatever you say.”
The morning passed quietly, and I was almost starting to enjoy myself. I sat on the floor with the twins, helping them stack blocks into a wobbly tower.
Jake sat on the couch, watching us with an expression I couldn’t quite read. He didn’t say much, just sipped his coffee and observed.
“Logan, no!” I yelped as he swiped at the tower, sending the blocks crashing down.
Lily clapped her hands, delighted by the destruction.
“Great teamwork, guys,” I said, laughing.
Jake snorted. “You sound like a motivational speaker.”
I turned to him, narrowing my eyes. “And what’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” he said, smirking. “It’s cute.”
My cheeks heated, and I quickly turned back to the twins, pretending to focus on rebuilding the tower.
After lunch, the twins went down for their nap, leaving Jake and me alone. I decided to take the rare opportunity to sit outside and enjoy the sun.
I found a spot on the porch, stretching my legs out and closing my eyes. The warmth of the sun felt amazing, and for a moment, I forgot all about Tammy, her father, and the chaos of the past few weeks.
“Comfortable?”
I opened my eyes to see Jake standing over me, his arms crossed.
“I was,” I said, shielding my eyes from the sun as I looked up at him.
He raised an eyebrow, then sat down beside me. “You’re taking up the best spot.”
“There’s plenty of room,” I pointed out.
He didn’t respond, just leaned back and stretched his long legs out beside mine.
For a while, we sat in silence, the only sounds coming from the birds in the trees and the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. It was… nice.
“I don’t get it,” Jake said suddenly, breaking the quiet.
“Don’t get what?”
“You,” he said, turning to look at me. “You’re always so… happy. After everything you’ve been through, how do you do it?”
The question caught me off guard, and I hesitated before answering. “I guess I don’t see the point in being miserable. Life’s too short for that.”
Jake frowned, his gaze distant. “It’s not that simple.”
“No, it’s not,” I agreed. “But it’s a choice. And I choose to find the good in things, no matter how small.”
He didn’t say anything, just stared at me like he was trying to figure me out.
“What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.
“Nothing,” he said, his lips twitching into a small smile. “You’re just… different.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
Jake’s smile widened, and for a moment, he almost looked soft. “Good. Definitely good.”
The rest of the day was filled with small, quiet moments that felt almost normal. Jake and I played with the twins, ate dinner together, and even managed to have a conversation that didn’t end in sarcasm or awkward silences.
But, of course, there were still plenty of awkward moments.
Like when I accidentally bumped into him while reaching for a plate and spilled water all over his shirt.
“Smooth,” he said dryly, peeling the wet fabric off his chest.
“I’m so sorry!” I said, grabbing a towel and trying to blot the water away.
Jake grabbed my wrist, stopping me. “Ayla. It’s fine.”
Our eyes met, and for a moment, the air between us felt charged. I quickly stepped back, my cheeks burning.
“Right. Fine. I’ll just… go over there.”
Jake chuckled, shaking his head as he grabbed a dry shirt.
The funniest moment of the day came later in the evening, when I tried to teach Jake how to fold the twins’ clothes.
“You’re doing it wrong,” I said, watching as he awkwardly folded a tiny shirt into a lumpy square.
Jake scowled. “It’s a shirt. It doesn’t need to be perfect.”
“It does if you want it to fit in the drawer,” I pointed out.
He sighed, holding up the misshapen shirt. “Happy?”
“Not even a little.”
Jake groaned, tossing the shirt at me. “Fine. You do it.”
I caught the shirt, laughing. “You’re hopeless.”
“And you’re bossy,” he shot back, though there was no heat in his words.
As the day wound down, I found myself feeling lighter than I had in weeks. Spending time with Jake and the twins without any drama or tension had been… wonderful.
We sat together on the couch after the twins were asleep, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of a lamp.
“Thanks for today,” I said, breaking the comfortable silence.
Jake glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “For what?”
“For being here. For spending time with us. It meant a lot.”
He didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on me. “You’re welcome,” he said finally, his voice low.
For a moment, I thought he was going to say more, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned back, closing his eyes and letting out a soft sigh.
I smiled to myself, feeling a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the room.
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