When You're Ready (Ready #1)(14)

~Clare~

I stared at myself in the full length antique mirror, tucked away in the corner of my bedroom. It had been a while since I had actually done this. I still looked in the mirror when I was putting on makeup or trying on clothes, but I don’t think I really looked at myself in years. After Ethan became sick, I was constantly on the go, taking care of him, Maddie, and everything else. After he died, I just avoided looking at myself, afraid of what I might see. I was so afraid to look in the mirror and see what grief had left me, so I just kept moving. Yes, I went through all the stages you were supposed to go through. At least I think I did. It was only recently that I felt like I had finally come to a place where I could actually say I’m a widow without choking on the words. After three years, I was confident in my skills as a mother, and now knew I could conquer being a single parent no matter what life may throw at me.

But I still hadn’t mustered the courage to look at myself in the mirror. The only reason I was doing so now was the man currently standing in my family room. When he looked at me, what did he see? I don’t think I had thought about it up until this moment, but when a man looked at me now, what did he see?

Did he see a tired, single mother? A widow? Or just a woman?

I leaned into the mirror, turning my cheek to the light. I can't quite explain what I was looking for, and it wasn’t any attempt at vanity. I wasn’t on the hunt for wrinkles or laugh lines. I think I was trying to see if, after Ethan’s death and all the grief that came with it, there was any of the old me left.

Yes, I knew I was pretty. I was self-confident enough to admit it, but I spent the majority of my adult life with one man, and when you're with the right man, after a while, every other man disappeared. Yes, I noticed them, in that I knew they existed, but no one could hold a candle to what I saw in Ethan.

I knew he felt the same. I’d see his eyes melt when I entered a room. I watch them flame in heat when we shared a bed, and felt them warm when he said “I love you”.

When Logan looked at me, did he see me in a similar way? Did he find me sexy?

Could I do sexy anymore? Wow, I was lame. Twenty-eight and I was asking myself if I could still be sexy. I used to be able to drive Ethan insane with a single arched brow.

"Shit, Leah is right. I do need to get out,” I said to no one, again.

Whatever it was, whatever I used to have that made Ethan go crazy...I needed that back.

Even if I didn’t use it. Even if it was just for me. I felt like I’d lost a part of me, the part that made me feel like a woman, and I needed it back to feel whole again.

~Logan~

"Did you grow up here?" I asked Clare, trying to keep my mind and my eyes occupied.

We had been in Maddie’s room for a few minutes now, moving furniture and pulling out the supplies that she had bought. Maddie’s room was exactly like the girl who lived in it - adorable. The walls were cotton candy pink with ballerina posters and family photos scattered everywhere. The quilt on her small bed was a life sized ballerina with an actual tulle tutu peeking out from the fabric. There were pointe shoes hanging next to the dresser and stuffed animals piled high in the corner next to a giant pink bean bag. It was a little girl’s paradise, and somehow I knew that Clare had spent hours picking out every detail in this room, making sure it was special and unique for Maddie.

Clare set Maddie up downstairs with a movie and a snack and told her the ballet barre would be even better if it was a surprise. Maddie had happily agreed, settling into the family room with a bowl of popcorn and some entertainment. Clare had changed into a pair of tight fitting yoga pants and a long sleeved V-necked shirt. Every time she bent down to pick up another toy, I had to look the other way to keep myself from sneaking glances down her shirt, or checking out her ass. She had a really nice ass.

I said I was trying. I didn’t say it was always successful. I am a guy after all.

"Yeah, my parents still live in the same house I grew up in a few miles away. I like this area of Richmond. It’s far enough away that we still have that small town vibe, but close enough that I can take Maddie downtown for the circus or a Broadway show when they come to town," she said, moving about the room with a familiar grace.

"How about you?" she asked. “I know you didn’t grow up here. But I don't know much beyond the last name. I mean, I know who you are. Leah told me that much, but I don't keep up much with gossip."

Ever since the divorce and the newspapers splashed my name everywhere, there were very few people who didn’t know my scandalous history. My father was known for his pristine reputation, and I’d sullied it. The papers had a field day.

"No, it's a relief. It makes introductions quite awkward when the person you’re meeting thinks they know more about you than you do yourself."

"Well then, why don't you tell me?" she suggested, with sincerity in her eyes.

Dear lord, what could I tell her that wouldn't scare her away?

Basics. I’d go with that.

"Well, I'm from the East Coast, New York mainly. Although I have lived in several other places while I was in boarding school. My father, well, gossip or no, I’m sure you know who my father is." Everyone knew who my father was. I hated talking about him. I hated talking about my family in general.

"I went to Yale for my undergraduate, then Harvard for medical school. I moved back to New York, where I finished my residency and began my career there. I, uh, got divorced and moved here about three years ago.”