It Starts with Us (It Ends with Us #2)(76)

“All this time I imagined him to be really poor, without a way back to Boston,” he says. “I even thought maybe he never came because he wasn’t physically able to drive, like maybe his vision was too bad or something. I don’t know. But he has a truck and he never even tried.”

I don’t interfere with his thought process. I just want to be here for him when he finalizes it.

“He doesn’t deserve me, does he.” He says it like a statement rather than a question.

“Neither of them deserves you.”

He doesn’t move for an entire minute as he stares past me out the window. But then he looks at me firmly, sitting a little taller. “You know that homework I’m behind on? The family tree?” Josh pulls at his seat belt and begins to fasten it. “They never said how big the tree needed to be. I’ll just draw a baby seedling. They don’t have branches.” He pats the dash. “Let’s go.”

I laugh hard at that. I wasn’t expecting it. The way this kid weaves humor into the most depressing moments gives me hope for him. I think he’s gonna be okay.

“A seedling, huh?” I start the car and pull on my own seat belt. “That might work.”

“I can draw a seedling with two tiny branches. Yours and mine. We’ll be on our own brand-new, tiny family tree—one that starts with us.”

I feel heat behind my eyes, so I grab my sunglasses off the dash and put them on. “A whole new family tree that starts with us. I like it.”

He nods. “And we’ll do a much better job of keeping it alive than our shitty parents did.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard.” I am absolutely relieved by this decision. Josh may change his mind in the future, but I have a strong suspicion that even if he contacts his father going forward, he’s never going to choose him over me. Josh reminds me a lot of myself, and devotion is a trait we have in spades.

“Atlas?” Josh says my name right as I put the car in drive.

“Yeah?”

“Can I flip him off?”

I stare back at Tim and his truck and his house. It’s an immature request, but one I happily respond to with, “Please do.”

Josh leans as far toward my window as his seat belt will allow. I roll down the window and honk the horn. Tim looks over at us right as I start to drive away.

Josh flips him off and yells, “Ass hole,” out my window. Once we’re out of Tim’s eyesight, Josh falls back against his seat, laughing.

“It’s asshole, Josh. One word.”

“Asshole,” he says, pronouncing it the correct way.

“Thank you. Now stop saying it. You’re twelve.”





Chapter Thirty-Two Lily




Are you at home?

The text is from Atlas, so I respond to it with, For a minute. Why?

I pack baby food into Emmy’s diaper bag and then rush around the room, grabbing her a change of clothes. I throw a can of formula in as well, since I’m no longer breastfeeding, and then I scoop her up. “You ready to go see Rylee?”

Emmy smiles when I say Rylee’s name.

When I picked her up this morning from Allysa’s, I had a talk with both her and Marshall about everything that’s happened with Ryle. Allysa agreed that it was smart to show my lawyer the texts he sent me. She also agreed that it’s time we have a serious sit-down with Ryle. I’m nervous, but knowing she and Marshall have my back is extremely reassuring.

As soon as we make it to my front door, there’s a knock. I glance through the peephole, relieved to see Atlas standing there. But Josh isn’t with him, so my heart immediately sinks. Did he actually choose to stay with his father over Atlas? I swing open the door.

“What happened? Where’s Josh?”

Atlas smiles, and the assurance in his smile fills me with instant relief. “It’s fine. He’s at my house.”

I blow out a breath. “Oh. Why are you here, then?”

“I’m on my way to my restaurant. I was driving by and thought I’d run up and steal a hug.”

I smile, and he holds the door open for me. He can’t give me a full-on hug since I have Emerson perched on my hip, so he gives me a quick kiss on the side of my head. “Liar. My apartment isn’t on your way. And it’s Sunday—your restaurant is closed.”

“Details,” he says, waving off my point. “Where are you headed?”

“Allysa’s. We’re having dinner with them tonight.” I hoist the diaper bag onto my shoulder, but he takes it from me.

“I’ll walk you out.” He slings the diaper bag over his shoulder. Emmy reaches for him, and I think we’re both a little surprised when she willingly transfers from my arms to his. She tucks her head against his chest, and the sight of it makes me pause for a second. It makes Atlas take a pause, too. But then he smiles at me and begins walking down to my car. He holds my hand the whole way.

I take Emmy from him and buckle her into her car seat. We’re finally in a position where Atlas can give me an actual hug, so he pulls me to him. His hug feels like an entire conversation. He’s holding me in a way that makes it feel like he’s needing strength—like he wants to take a piece of me with him. “Where are you going again?” I ask him, pulling back.