THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO HAS BEEN READING! It means a lot to me, as I'm pretty new to this site. I appreciate feedback, as well! I LOVE reviews and have to give a special shout out to my friend, 18lyztwner, who helped me so much early on when it came to figuring out how to post a story and chapters. I appreciate you always reviewing and reading my work! You've been such a help and I can't thank you enough!

Hope everyone enjoys this chapter!

The fridge in my apartment is fully stocked thanks to my grocery run earlier that day. There is fresh fruit on the table in a bowl, fresh vegetables in the crisper drawer and the cabinets are full. We threw a mish mash of clothes from the camper into a single suitcase so we didn't have much to carry back and forth. Owen sets the bag down in the entryway of my apartment as I try to force the thought out of my head that there should be one more bag for us to take. Someone isn't with us and my heart sinks, missing her. My cell phone rings and I can feel my breath hitch as I try to stay calm and grab for it. I notice Owen stop walking toward the kitchen and freeze in place.

I grab my phone.

Karen.

"It's Karen," I tell Owen. He nods- a single, solid movement. He smiles at me quickly, but I can read his startle in his posture. He doesn't easily startle like that, but the sound of the phone is like the lifeline to Maisie. It could be something.

"Tell her I said 'hi,'" he says. "I'm going to make something for dinner."

I nod, picking up the phone.

"So?" Karen asks after I answer. "Did Zia come and pick up Maisie?"

"She did," I tell her.

"How did it go?"

"It went ok. Some tears. Lots of hugs and a pinky promise from Owen," I say, smiling.

"But she went?"

"Yes, she did. I don't know if she'll be able to stay but she did it."

"And how did you do?" Karen asks gently, knowing my anxiety over the situation.

"I did better than I thought I would," I admitted.

"I told you it would be ok. This will be so good for her. And for you. And Owen. And you two together," she says.

I walk past the kitchen and see Owen chopping zucchini and yellow squash. There's a pot of water on the stove and a pot of something else simmering. I go into the living room and sit down on the couch.

"I don't know about Owen and me, truthfully," I say quietly.

"Still haven't talked?"

"Not really. Not when it comes to, like, us," I say.

"Do you think he wants to talk about things?" Karen asks.

"I don't know. Sometimes, I think yes. Other times, no."

"Why don't you just try to bring it up? What's he doing now?"

"Making dinner," I say.

"Why don't you talk to him now?" she asks.

"I feel too emotional to talk to him about things right now, I think."

"Ok, yeah, I can understand that."

"He's making dinner, but I feel too anxious to eat," I tell her.

"Try to eat," she orders. "Everything is going to be fine with Maisie."

"I know," I say.

"Talk to Owen," she tells me. "Just talk to him."

"I will. At some point."

"Tell him you're sorry for what you said. Tell him the stuff you told me. Just explain things to him."

"Karen-" I start, but she cuts me off.

"For Maisie, Claire. If I had talked to Scott more maybe things would have been…better. For the boys. For me," she says, softly. I sigh. "He's not just staying for Maisie. You know that right? You're basically a family of three now. He clearly still loves you or he wouldn't do what he does for you."

"I just get the feeling he doesn't want to talk to me about things in regards to that fight."

"You sure you're not the one who doesn't want to talk about it?" she says, making it sound like an accusation.

"I don't think-"

"Claire. Just say you're sorry. You deliberately hurt his feelings and you're so stubborn you won't apologize even though you both still clearly want to be together," she says, quickly and sternly.

I sigh again. "You're too bossy," I taunt.

"Yeah, I know," she mocks. "But seriously, I've seen how he is with you. For a long time before you broke up. I saw how he gazed at you with obvious attraction. He always looked like he had stars in his eyes when he looked at you, even late into your relationship. He always looked like he was still in that smitten honeymoon period with you. And I know you love him."

"I do love him," I tell her, sighing.

"Just try and talk to him, ok? Maybe not tonight because of the Maisie emotions. I just thought this would be a good time because she's not there. But sometime."

My breath catches at the mention of Maisie. I had almost forgotten she wasn't here with us; I was so wrapped up in the conversation. I take a deep breath and reassure myself that Owen IS here and everything is ok, even though I would feel much better with him in my range of vision.

As though he can sense my thoughts, he pokes his head around the corner into the living room.

"Hungry?" he asks, holding out a glass of red wine to me.

I nod, suddenly aware of how good something smells and that I feel less anxious just by seeing him.

"I'm going to go eat dinner," I tell Karen. "I'll talk to you later."

"Call me tomorrow and let me know how Maisie does overnight," she says.

"I will," I say, before hanging up and following Owen to the kitchen, where the table is set for us.

"I haven't made dinner for you, just you and me, in forever," he says, sitting down and picking up his fork.

"I've gotten so used to Maisie being with us," I smile at the thought. He smiles and nods too before we both start eating. Our conversation centers on Maisie, neither one of us bringing up the possibility of "us." I don't feel awkward though, I still enjoy being with him, talking with him, having dinner with him. I've wondered if Maisie has been sort of a buffer between the two of us, making him stay but only wanting to remain friends with me. Are we "co-parenting" an 11 year old girl, but still sleeping in the same bed? Does he still sleep with me just because of past terrors or is it because he still wants to be with me? He's still given me goodbye and goodnight pecks on the mouth. But hasn't tried anything else. Because Maisie has been there? The kisses I thought were just his way of making sure I'm still there after everything we had been through. I thought it could just be his way of grounding himself before he leaves or goes to bed.

Right now, he's talking about how truly really good of a helper Maisie is when he's building. He's telling me how smart she is, and I smile, because he doesn't need to tell me her positives. I already love her wholeheartedly.