It's strange to creep down the stairs of my own house, but that's what I've been doing for the last week. Up and down them as quietly as possible. Thankfully, when I get to the living room, Chloe and Joey are there playing with their toys.

When Joey catches sight of me, he lets out a screech of joy, and Chloe mimics him. They both clamor to their feet and rush at me, and I get down on my knees to greet them. Their soft bodies hit me with an oomph, and I let out a chuckle.

I listen to them babble about the various things they've been doing all week with Aunty Gwen and Ash.

When I glance up, Ash is standing in the doorway to the living room, a tea towel clutched in one hand. Our gazes connect, and an electrical current shoots through my body. A massive jolt of awareness and longing that would have brought me to my knees if I wasn't there already. It's the same kind of intensity I feel when I look at Joey—fierce and overwhelming.

"Hi," Ash says.

"Hi," I say, and my voice sounds thick to my ears.

I can do this. I can go back to seeing him as attractive and not as mine. It's possible; it has to be. The alternative is not having him in my life at all, and I don't know how to do that. England and Ash are so intertwined in my heart and mind that I can't untangle them. If I am still in England, then Ash must be in my life.

"You hungry?" His expression is blank, and I can't read him.

"I can get myself—"

"I've got your smoothie, if you want it."

"Oh, um. That'd be great." Weekends are usually a full English breakfast, but I've been leaving so early that I haven't had a smoothie all week.

"Mummy," Joey says. "We've been playing restaurant." He takes my hand, and I rise to my feet to let him drag me toward the kitchen. When I pass Ash, I catch a whiff of his minty cologne, and my stomach releases a riot of butterflies.

Joey sits me at the table, and then he works with Ash to get my smoothie while Gwen looks on with an amused expression on her face.

"Do you think tension this thick would need a dull knife or a sharp one?" Gwen whispers. "I can't decide."

"Shut up," I mutter.

"Can I get Diya's number off you? She said last time I was here that she'd take me out to a club, and I think tonight's the perfect time for that."

"No," I say as Joey comes over to the table with the smoothie in a tall glass. Behind him, Chloe is carrying cutlery for some reason, but I decide I'm not questioning anything.

Ash is still over by the stove and fridge, leaning against the counter, watching them. It's unnerving to be back in a place where it feels like we don't know each other at all. How does one shitty conversation topple my life on its head? Okay, maybe it was one shitty conversation coupled with my shitty reaction. I just need to get over myself. Going into this, I knew where we'd end up. For me to pretend otherwise, is childish. This isn't me, but I can't seem to unstick myself.

"Thank you, my loves," I say, and I kiss Joey and then Chloe on the head.

"Taste it," Joey says. "Ash let me help."

I take a big sip and make a fuss over how delicious it is. Joey beams, and Chloe seems to be experiencing some secondary pride as well, basking in Joey's glow.

"How was your week?" Ash asks, his words clipped.

"Good," I say without looking at him. "Busy. Trying to get everything back on track now that HR is behind me."

"Right. Well. I've got some things to take care of today, since I've worked such long hours this week."

That gets my attention, and I meet his gaze across the kitchen. "Gwen was here."

"I didn't realize you and Gwen had an arrangement for childcare that included my daughter." He stares at me, and it occurs to be that he's angry.

"You left the kids with Gwen on Monday with no issues."

"She told me you were on your way home."

Which makes me think he was avoiding me, at least on Monday.

We do have an arrangement between us, especially on weekends. When he's had the kids all week, if he's got something to do, I watch Chloe and Joey. No questions asked. But Saturdays have been ours since we started going to the indoor pool—the day where we do everything together from the minute we wake up to when we fall asleep. It's part of the reason I was so reluctant to get out of bed this morning.

I've been so wrapped up in my own feelings that it hasn't occurred to me how he might feel about my absence. My complete obliviousness is another indication of how discombobulated I've been this week. Purposely, I steeped myself in as much work as possible, and the end result is a pissed off Ash.

"Yeah," I say, and I swallow, wondering whether he'll be with Imogen. "I can keep Chloe while you do whatever you need to do."

He gives me a curt nod, and he leaves the kitchen without another word.

"Oh, boy," Gwen whispers. "He's seriously pissed at you. It reminds me of how he used to be with me last time I was here. For the record, he's been much nicer to me this time."

"That wasn't mean...it was professional." I'm reaching on that one.

Gwen laughs and takes her plate to the sink to deposit it in the soapy water Ash left. "Angst is actually really delicious when it's not your own," she muses. "I could eat it with a spoon." She gives me a wicked grin.

Joey and Chloe have followed Ash out of the kitchen, and I let out a deep sigh.

"Seriously, though, when I agreed to come here, I thought him picking Imogen was a done deal. You made it sound like a done deal. Nothing that just happened in here—" she makes a circling motion with her hand to indicate the kitchen "—or anything he's said this week to me backs up what you said that night."

"Ash wants something I can't give him."

"You just told me you've got another five years if you want it." Gwen practically hisses while glancing toward the kitchen doorway. "You're not going to tell him?"

"It's not just the amount of time." She wouldn't understand. Gwen is the type of woman to inspire a grand passion. I've seen the mess she's made of multiple boyfriends who end up torn to shreds, willing to do anything to get her back. Ash and I are done, and he's mad that I've been inconsiderate. Surely, she must see that.

"Were you in this room just now? The guy is pining for you. If we were on Bridgerton, he'd be burning for you."

Would he? Seems just as likely that the angst Gwen is sensing is all mine. Or it's coming from Ash, but it's because he's such a good man that he's upset he's hurt me. Or it's Ash and it's actually about whatever has been happening between him and Imogen this week and he doesn't have me as his sounding board anymore.

"You showed up a week ago," I say. "You can't play couch psychologist as though you understand everything. You don't know about all the conversations Ash and I have had. About how uncertain he's been this whole time about Imogen returning. You might think I'm jumping to a conclusion, but when it walks like a duck and talks like a duck—guess what?—it's a duck."

"Were you always a pessimist?" She holds up her hand. "Actually, don't answer that. It's not a nice way to phrase the question, even if I think the answer is yes." She glares at me. "Does this mean you didn't tell him about the job offer in Michigan?"

"Never came up," I say, and I take my cup to the sink. In the living room, I can hear Joey and Chloe playing cars together.

The front door closes, and I realize Ash was in the house during our whole conversation. "Did you know he was still here?" I ask.

"I kept my voice down," she says. "Doesn't matter. These are things you should be talking to him about. This feels like self-sabotage, and I am not here for it."

"In what world is a broken home better than a loving, two parent household? If they can make things work, they should." I throw out my hands, but there's a sour taste in my throat. "Me stepping back is the right thing to do."

"You're not stepping back, you're giving up, and that's a whole other mood."

"I can't make someone feel something they don't."

"Have you asked him how he feels about you?"

"If someone feels it, they say it."

She laughs. "Like you have? God, Paige. You're so afraid of getting hurt that you're hurting yourself. Life isn't neat and tidy. It's messy. If you haven't learned yet that he's worth getting messy for, then I can't help you."

"I'm trying to make things easier on him. If he wants to be with Imogen, he can be, and we can—we can—"

"You're not. You're trying to make them easier on yourself. You spending eighteen hours a day at work isn't helping anyone but yourself. Last time I was here, Ash asked me what I loved about you, and I said that you were never afraid to start over. Seemed pretty admirable at the time."

Joey lets out a yell of outrage, and I fly from the kitchen, from this conversation with Gwen. In the living room, Joey is balled up on the coach, sobbing, and Chloe is on the floor, staring at me with wide eyes.

"What happened?"

"Hit," Chloe says, and she holds up a car.

"Joey hit you?" I whirl on Joey. "Joey!"

"She hit me!" His words are garbled but understandable. "Ash says we no hurt people we love. Chloe no love me."

I close my eyes and breathe for a beat. "All right. Chloe, you're in timeout." I point to the square of carpet. "Joey, do you need a cuddle?" Truthfully, I could use one too.

When I sit on the couch, he crawls into my lap, and as he sobs, I wish I could join in.

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