Damn, I didn't realize how long these chapters were getting lolll sorry? Not sorry? IDK, but thanks so much for taking the time to read and review!

There's still a couple of weeks to vote for your favorite stories of 2021 in the Twific Recommendations daily poll!

Big thanks to Hadley for all her help! See y'all soon :)


11

Riley and I spend the Fourth of July with my family.

It's not a big event, but a couple of my aunts and uncles are there, and some of my parents' neighbors. We barbecue in the backyard, my dad on the grill, my mom rushing around and making sure everyone is happy.

I'm sitting in a chair on the lawn and drinking a beer when I hear Riley announce Chelsea's arrival.

"Mommy!" she screeches, running over to her.

Chelsea grins and squats down to get attacked by a hug. Bunny dangles from her hand as she clutches our girl.

"You're a mess." Chelsea laughs. Riley's got melted blue popsicle around her mouth, and the red and white striped dress she insisted on wearing today is also covered in the sticky sweet sugar.

I stand and cross the lawn. "I gave up on keeping her clean after the third wipe down," I say, and Chelsea straightens, her eyes roaming over me just as Riley runs off.

"Looks like she got you, too," Chelsea says, pointing toward my white T-shirt that's covered in blue popsicle as well.

I rub a hand over my torso. "Love the kid, but she's a bit of a monster," I tease, a phrase we started saying when Riley hit the terrible twos.

"I guess we'll keep her," Chelsea jokes in return.

We briefly smile, and the music spilling out of the speaker by the back door fills the silence for us. Chelsea hands me the knitted rabbit.

"Thanks for offering to bring this. Putting her to bed tonight would've been a potential nightmare," I say, thinking of the tantrum she threw the last time Bunny wasn't around for bedtime.

"Yeah, no problem. I wasn't doing anything anyway. Sorry I forgot to pack it. It wasn't in the usual spot 'cause I had to wash it yesterday."

"All good. How's Vera?" I ask, searching her face for any indication of the conversation her mom and I had the other week.

"She's okay," Chelsea answers. "We stopped by her friends' barbeque for a bit, but not for long. She seemed happy to see them."

Riley runs back over to us, gushing about how Papa Carl is gonna let her hold a sparkler later tonight but only if she's careful.

"Can you stay for sparklers, Mommy?" Riley asks excitedly.

"I don't know, baby," Chelsea replies, looking to me for confirmation. "I gotta get back to Gram."

Riley whines a bit, and I shrug.

"You can stay, if you want. There's plenty of food, if you're hungry. But if you gotta get back to your mom… yeah."

Chelsea looks grateful. "Just for a little, if you're sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

After a beat, my mom comes over and greets Chelsea. She's not exactly warm with her, but not unfriendly either. I appreciate that even after the divorce, my family didn't take sides, likely for Riley's sake. But also because my parents always loved Chelsea. They were hurt, too, when they found out about her infidelity. But they didn't say a bad word about her, even when I did, and it spoke volumes about their character.

I let my mom and Chelsea talk, and I head inside to put Bunny in a safe place. On my way back out, I fix myself another burger, with two patties this time.

When the sun starts to fade, the fireworks come out. They're technically not allowed in the city, but the people down the street from my parents don't give a shit. We all stand in the front yard and stare up at the sky, watching colors burst. Riley's in my arms, oohing and ahhing, pointing and squealing. Sometimes I watch her face instead of the show because her fascination is so fucking adorable.

When it's well past Riley's bedtime, I tuck her and Bunny into the guest bed inside my parents' house and shut the door before rejoining everyone outside. Chelsea grabs a beer from the cooler, which makes me concerned since I saw the Zoloft in the medicine cabinet. I keep quiet and grab a Coke instead of a beer. I'll probably regret the caffeine later but whatever. I gotta drive my baby home tonight.

"She didn't even put up a fight, she's that exhausted," I say, the soda cracking open with a hiss.

"Same," Chelsea says, her gaze a bit distant, parking herself in an empty lawn chair next to me.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to see a picture from Bella.

It's just her, the fading sky, and a sparkler-drawn heart, hanging in the air.

Edward: Cool shot. How'd you do that?

Bella: Rose brought her camera so we've been having some fun with the sparklers and long exposures.

Edward: Gotcha. I'll have to show Riley, she'd love it.

Bella sends another photo, but this time it's Emmett, and he drew a penis with the sparkler… and it's shooting a load.

I chuckle.

Edward: Wow haha new meaning to long exposure. Prob not gonna show Riley that one…

Bella: Hahah yeah, good idea. Em's a loser, but we love him.

Edward: Glad you're having fun.

Bella: Missing you, but yeaaaah.

Edward: Been thinking about you a lot today, too.

She "loves" my text.

Bella and I were messaging earlier today—she's at the lake with some friends. I think she was a little drunk, texting that she wished I was there, then she sent a selfie. The thin red strings of her bikini top were visible, clutching her collarbones. I couldn't see anything else

other than her wet hair, the sun shining on her face, and heart-shaped shades covering her eyes.

As much as I enjoy spending time with my family, for a second, I wished I was there with her, too.

Or maybe I just wished she could be here.

I don't even know what that would look like though. Bella, Chelsea, Riley all in one place.

I let the thought fade away and pocket my phone before looking over at Chels. When my eyes meet hers, she instantly looks away.

Faint pops and bangs sound nearby, but we can't see the fireworks from where we are in the backyard.

Silence expands between Chelsea and me, both of us watching some of my family get a bit rowdy. It's amusing, observing my dad and uncle sing along to Queen, beers in their hands. From across the yard, my mom watches fondly, too, but I know she's about to cut them off any minute.

"I miss them," Chelsea says quietly.

I don't look over at her. "Yeah."

The song and rowdiness continues, and when I glance over to see Chelsea taking a long pull from her beer, I speak up.

"Are you sure you should be drinking?" I ask, maybe overstepping, but I don't care. If she's gonna be taking care of our daughter, I feel like I need to know this shit.

Chelsea looks confused. "What?"

"When I was putting away Riley's Tylenol, I saw the Zoloft bottle in the medicine cabinet."

She nods slowly, understanding. "I'm not taking it yet. I got it because I thought I'd need it, but I've been worried about starting it again. I don't want a crutch like that, but I feel better having it as an option. That's all."

I gauge her expression and decide I believe her. I really do. The last time she was taking the prescription, she was subdued. Not herself. I appreciate her honesty at this moment. And then she speaks again.

"Look. I'm sorry I went through your phone," she whispers. "But I wish you would've just told me about her. About… Bella."

I glower. "Why? I wouldn't wanna know about you and someone else." My brain goes to when I did find her with someone else.

It fucking broke my heart.

"Maybe I'm a masochist," Chelsea mumbles. "Leah texted me last week. I guess your little girlfriend is visiting you at the job site now?"

"Little girlfriend." My laugh is bitter; my heart is torn.

"Well? Leah said she's young."

Fucking Jared. I should've known he'd tell his wife.

"She's not my girlfriend," I tell her, instantly feeling guilty because even though it's true, downplaying what Bella and I have going on feels completely wrong.

Chelsea doesn't look convinced. "Only a matter of time."

"Yeah, maybe," I say. Because maybe. I really like Bella. She makes me feel good—she's on my mind a lot, and we just click. We have since day one.

"Great," Chelsea mutters, shaking her head.

I stare out at the yard, unable to look at her now. The two of us are a stark contrast to what's happening around us. I glance over at my mom. She's too perceptive, trying and failing to not watch us.

"You don't have any right to be mad," I mutter.

"I'm not mad," Chelsea insists. "I'm just… sad."

I scrub a hand over my mouth and sip my Coke.

"I'm not seeing someone to hurt you." Being with Bella has absolutely nothing to do with Chelsea and everything to do with my happiness.

"I know you're not trying to hurt me. You would never hurt me," Chelsea mumbles, and I hear the tremble in her voice.

She's fucking crying but trying to be discreet about it. I hate that the instinct to soothe her sadness creeps in.

She wipes her cheeks. "I thought we were gonna get back together, Edward. I mean, I hoped? I don't know."

"What?" I ask, disbelief in my tone.

She looks at me, long and hard, wiping tears. For a second, I feel like a complete dick because I know exactly why she thought that.

"Can you blame me?" she asks. "After Riley's birthday?"

I swallow thickly.

After Riley's fifth birthday last October, Chelsea and I slept together.

It just… happened. We had a good day celebrating our girl. I stayed after the party to help Chelsea clean up, and when Riley went to bed, we shared a few beers and reminisced over the day she was born.

I don't know.

I don't know what came over us.

We were both sad, I guess. The divorce had been final for a few months by then. After we had sex, Chelsea wanted me to stay. I did, too. It was all I wanted. To be back in my bed. Be a family again. But too much pain and distrust were still there, and I didn't want Riley to wake up and find me at home in the morning when she had just been getting used to me being gone. I didn't want to confuse her or fuck her up more than we potentially already had.

Chelsea and I never talked about that night.

After a beat of silence, she stands from the lawn chair and leaves me sitting alone.

I guess we aren't talking about it now, either.

=.=.=

"Wanna tell me why the fuck you thought it'd be a good idea for your wife to tell Chelsea about Bella?"

That's how I greet Jared Monday morning.

"Ah, fuck." He gets in and slams the truck door, setting my sack lunch on the dashboard. "I swear, Leah just knew something was up. I tell her everything, man. You remember how it was? Can't keep shit from our wives."

I shift into drive and speed off.

"You couldn't have asked Leah not to stir up shit?"

"I didn't think she'd go and tell Chelsea. What does it matter anyway? You're divorced."

"Exactly," I say with conviction. "Chelsea doesn't need to know my business. It makes shit too confusing."

"Well, maybe your business shouldn't be so public," he snarks, and I give him a hard fucking look. "What, man? You run over there every time that chick walks by. People were bound to start talking."

"Chick?" I glare at the road and think about pulling over and kicking him out. "If you keep talking like that, you'll be fuckin' walking to work."

"Okay, okay. Sorry."

He's kind of an asshole, but maybe he's right about some of this. I've been a little too obvious. For being such a private person, I guess I have been giving the guys something to talk about.

So I take my lunch at the normal time today—eleven—and steer clear of the other side of the site, where Bella might walk by. But I send her a text, so she's not left wondering.

Edward: Don't think I'm gonna get to see you today.

When noon hits, I keep working. I feel kinda shitty about it, but I end up not being able to go over there to see Bella anyway because I get stuck helping teach the new guy how to not fuck up his string line again.

My phone chimes ten minutes later. I take off my work gloves to reply.

Bella: Why not? You finally take a day off?

Edward: No, sorry. Just busy, got caught up.

Bella: Bummer.

Edward: Can I see you tonight?

Bella: Yeah, but my last client is at 7, and I have to stay after to clean and close up.

Edward: That's fine. Come over after?

Bella: It'd be like 8:30. I thought anything after 8 was too late lol

Edward: I'll be boring and tired, but I wanna see you.

Bella: You're never boring. Take a nap when you get off work, old man.

Edward: If I nap that late, I won't wake up until it's time to get up for work.

Bella: Good point. Stay up and wait for me. We can crawl into bed right when I get there.

Edward: Sounds like a plan.

=.=.=

I'm dozing on the couch when Bella knocks on the front door. I glance at the time on my cable box—nine pm. I turn off the TV and get up, shuffling over to let her in.

"Hiiii," she draws out. "Sorry, my client showed up late, which put me behind." She groans and rolls her eyes. "Did you get my text?"

"Ah, no. My phone is charging in the room."

She steps inside, and I shut the door.

"Well, I'm glad you're still awake. After I didn't hear back from you, I definitely thought you passed out on me yet again," she teases.

"How long are you gonna rip on me for that?" I smirk. "I made it up to you, didn't I?"

"You most certainly did," she agrees, her eyes lighting up. "What have you been doing?" She looks around the dim and quiet apartment.

"Dozing off."

She laughs and tilts her chin upward to kiss me. I like that she just does it. There's no awkwardness or hesitation between us.

"You do look pretty comfy," she says against my lips. I'm in navy sweats and a white tee.

I smirk, but my eyes are tired. She drops her bag on the couch and heads into the bedroom. Turning off the remaining lights in the living area, I follow after her. The lamp on my nightstand stays on because I don't want to actually sleep yet. I wanna talk to her first. Hear how her day was and what else she did for the Fourth of July.

She slips out of her sandals and crawls onto the bed, on top of the comforter and sitting cross-legged. I sit beside her, my back against the headboard, stretching my legs out.

"Looked like you had fun for the Fourth," I say, thinking back to those photos she sent me of herself and wishing I could've seen more of her in that red bikini.

"Yeah." She laughs. "Got way too drunk and a little sunburned, but it was fun."

I look at her face now—her cheeks are bronzed and freckled. I brush a finger over the sunspots, and she smiles a little.

"Who was at the lake with you?" I ask.

"All of my friends that you met at the show the other night."

"Paul was at the lake, too?" This is the real reason why I asked who was there. I'm not jealous; I'm just curious. It feels like there could be more there with them, but I don't know how or if I should ask.

"Paul was there, and he was the drunkest of us all," she says with a laugh but doesn't expand. "Oh, my sister, brother-in-law, and my nephew were there, too."

I remember her telling me about them. "They live in your hometown, right?"

"Yeah, they live with my parents and help out with the farm. They're still here visiting actually. Kate's husband, Garrett, has family here so they stay with them."

She grabs her phone and shows me some more pictures from the Fourth. There's a selfie with her and her nephew, Grayson. Kate and Garrett looking out at the lake, beers in hand. A shot of the water at sunset. There's the selfie Bella sent me with the heart-shaped sunglasses, and right after that one there's one of her and Paul with him standing behind her, his arm draped around her neck, a scowl on her face.

"You don't look too happy," I mumble.

"Paul likes to lick his finger and stick it in my ear before we take photos. It's honestly disgusting."

I think my assessment of him the other night was spot on—he's fucking annoying.

"You two are close, yeah?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"Like… close?" I ask, feeling stupid for not outright asking her if anything has ever happened between them. It feels like none of my business, and I immediately regret asking.

She searches my face. "Paul is just my friend. Always will be. Nothing more."

"Sorry, I just…" I laugh awkwardly. "If I lived with someone who looked like you, I don't think I would want to keep it friendly."

"Oh?" She smiles coyly. "That's because you and I have chemistry. Hard not to act on that, you know? Paul and I have…" She thinks about this. "Nada. Nothing. At least not romantically."

"You think we have chemistry?"

She looks at me in disbelief, an amused smile on her lips. "Yeah? Don't you?"

"I mean, yeah. Yes." We do. It's more than me just finding her attractive. She's easy and fun, and we definitely have that spark that I haven't felt with anyone in a long fucking time. Maybe ever, actually.

"Some people have that thing. It's why I wanted you so badly that first night," she explains. "Just had to have you, really."

"Yeah?" I ask, my voice lower now.

"Yeah. One-night stands aren't really my thing, so for a hot minute I was kinda worried the next day that you might've thought… I don't know. That I was some fucking floozy." She laughs, shaking her head. "Or that you thought less of me. Which is stupid. I got over that thought process real fast when I remembered just how fucking good we were together."

I swallow and reach for her hand, our fingers lightly touching. "It was good. And I didn't think less of you after that. If anything, I thought of you more."

Her face softens and she stares at our hands. "You know what I mean, though."

"I like that you're forward. I sure as shit wouldn't have made a move if you hadn't been."

"No?"

"No way in hell. I wouldn't have thought you'd give me the time of day."

She clicks her tongue and scoots to lie next to me, so she's on her side and tucked under my arm. "You're so off base, old man."

"Trust me, I know. I've been out of the game for a while."

There's a lull in our conversation now that we're curled up together, but we let it linger, not rushing to fill it.

"So, you're back to early lunches again? Or I guess your regular schedule?" she asks, shifting to look up at me.

That wasn't necessarily something I was gonna get into, but since she asked, I'll tell her.

"Yeah. I guess I am. There was some… drama, I guess." I don't know if that's the right word to use, but it's what I say.

Bella makes a face. "What kind of drama?"

"I guess it's pretty obvious that I changed my schedule so I can talk to you, and some of the guys wanna give me shit over it."

Her fingers trace a featherlight pattern over the inked forest on my forearm. "That's annoying. Maybe they're just jealous," she teases.

I don't have a doubt in my mind that might be true.

"Yeah. Probably. On top of that, one of the guys' wives texted my ex, Chelsea, and told her about you." Right after I say it, I immediately regret telling her.

Bella's face stays serene, but she's quiet for a moment. "Why would she do that?"

"Beats me. She probably wants to start shit, honestly. Or maybe she feels loyal to Chelsea since we were all friends before the divorce."

Bella stops tracing the pattern, and I worry for a second this is too much for her.

"So, how did you find out one of the guys' wives texted Chelsea?"

I swallow. Her name sounds strange coming out of Bella's mouth.

"Chelsea told me. She was at my parents' place for a little bit on the Fourth."

She contemplates this. "Are you two still pretty close? Even after everything?"

"Kinda. I dunno. Not close, but we have to co-parent Riley, so it's important that we get along."

"Makes sense. Did that conversation with Chelsea go well, then?"

"She… wasn't thrilled."

"But you're divorced, so."

I hesitate. "Yeah, but she didn't want us to be."

"Oh." Bella's brows pull together a little, and she gets lost in thought. "I just assumed she was still with the guy she cheated on you with."

"No. She immediately ended it," I admit then add, "As far as I know."

I tried to make it work with Chelsea. Maybe not hard enough or for long enough, but I did try for two months after I found out about everything.

The first couple of weeks I refused to sleep in that bed with Chelsea, so I camped out on Riley's floor, pretending like it was a fun adventure. Those weeks being around Chelsea were torture. The silent suffering. Orbiting around each other. Moving on autopilot. My back killed me, but sleeping on the couch would've led to Riley asking questions, and I needed her to not know that something was wrong. So I endured the hard floor. Didn't matter, anyway. It's not like I was sleeping.

I think about all of the long conversations Chelsea and I had. About why she did it. About how she did love me and was so, so fucking sorry. At some point, the word lost its meaning. I was emotionally and mentally drained. Physically, too, because I worked longer hours, desperate for the distraction.

But I tried. For two months I fucking tried. I thought I might be able to move past it. Not even for myself, but for Riley. But I couldn't get that image of them in our bed out of my head.

So, I asked for a divorce.

"I think her concern is more because of Riley," I finally tell Bella. "She wants to know who I bring around her, which is understandable." What's not understandable is Chelsea going through my phone, but I keep that part to myself.

"Gotcha," Bella replies, her expression so hard to read. I wanna know what she's thinking. "But… it's not like I'm ever around your daughter, so is that really the concern?"

Deep down I know Chelsea being wary and upset has everything to do with me moving on. But for some reason voicing that feels difficult. It feels too honest, and I'm not trying to scare Bella off.

"I don't know," is all I tell her.

"Okay. So… is this gonna be a problem?" she asks, shifting a little closer and draping an arm over my stomach.

"What? You and me?"

"Yeah."

"No," I tell her. "Nothing about you is problematic. I love spending time with you."

"Okay." She smiles softly, the awkward topic ending as quickly as it began. "Back to more important issues… are you actually changing your work schedule again to have an earlier lunch? I won't get to see you on my way to the salon anymore?"

I sigh. "I dunno."

"Fuck those guys," Bella says simply. "Who cares?"

"I care. I hate being the center of attention or the topic of gossip. It kinda got to me today," I admit, fully knowing why. "Thinking back to after Chelsea cheated, there was a lot of talk around the site. It was… embarrassing."

Bella frowns and holds me tighter. "I'm sorry."

My lips brush her temple. "It's okay."

"If they're talking about you now, it's only because they're probably jealous you're with the 'feisty one with the mouthwatering ass…'" she says lightly, repeating the words that were hollered at her.

I release a breathy chuckle. "Yeah, actually."

"So… fuck 'em."

"I guess you're right."

"Of course I am," she says triumphantly. "Hey."

"Yeah?"

She's quiet for a moment.

"How do I say this without sounding like a complete sap?" she begins, looking thoughtful. "I know when we met a few weeks ago you said you weren't looking for anything serious, but… I'm really glad we didn't just have that one night together."

"Me too," I murmur. I thought it was what I needed, one casual night. No strings attached. But clearly I can't do casual, and especially not when it comes to Bella.

"Also… I'm not seeing anyone else," she admits. "Not sleeping with anyone or whatever. I haven't, since that first night we were together."

"Me either."

"Is it cool if we keep it that way?" she asks, a hopeful look on her face.

"I'd prefer that," I say honestly. I don't really have the capacity to see more than one person, but even if I did, I wouldn't want to, anyway. "I've only got eyes for you."

Her smile is fond. "Same." With a kiss to my mouth, she moves from her spot to straddle me. "So, did you really invite me over just to sleep or…"

I swallow, loving the way she feels on top of me and the sexy way she stares down at me.

"I dunno," I say again, licking my lips. "I am kinda tired, but…" I run my rough hands up her back, under her shirt, feeling her warm skin.

"I'll gladly do all the work," she promises.

"Yeah?" I palm her ass through her jeans, giving it a squeeze, feeling myself grow hard.

"Oh, yeah," she says, her voice husky as she slowly circles her hips, grinding into me. "It'd be my pleasure."